“I- I think so. What was that? Gunshots?”
“Yeah,” is my only response because I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck just went down. Putting my gun back in its holster, I help her sit up and take a closer look at her gash. Thankfully it doesn’t seem too deep. “Is your head okay? Can you see clearly?”
“Yes, I can see fine,” she answers numbly.
I help her up carefully, and then look behind me to see a large crowd in front of the theatre. Taking Emily’s hand I rush over, dragging her behind me. “Is everyone okay, anyone hurt?”
Most people shake their head. “No, man, cops are on their way and this dude here is a doctor,” a teenage boy explains.
A guy in a suit stands up, after assessing an older lady. “Yes, I’m a doctor. I work across the street. I was doing paperwork when I heard the gunshots and came running over.”
“Did you get a good look at the car by chance, or the driver?”
He shakes his head. “No. I just saw the back of it when it was turning the corner.”
“Did you see anything?” I ask the kid next.
“No, my buddies and I were walking out when glass started shattering and we instinctively dropped to the ground. Good thing we did or else we would be toast right now. Why the hell would anyone shoot up a theatre?” Why indeed. I think about the timing of the car pulling out onto the street, suspicion rearing it’s ugly head.
“Are you a cop?” I feel Emily tense behind me at the doctor’s question.
“No. I’m not a cop.” She tries pulling her hand out of mine but I grip it tightly. The doctor nods then goes back to checking on everyone. The sound of approaching sirens echo in the distance, and my suspicion becomes stronger.
“We need to get out of here,” I mumble to no one in particular. Looking at my vehicle, that’s parked down the street, I decide to leave it and see if my suspicions are confirmed. “Come on.” I tug on Emily’s hand but her feet stay planted.
“Shouldn’t we wait and talk to the police?”
“No.” I pull on her hand again but she resists.
“What? But why? We…”
“Emily, I don’t have time to fucking explain everything right now. We just need to get fucking moving!”
I feel like an asshole when she flinches, but I don’t have time to sugarcoat shit. She doesn’t resist me when I pull her forward again and I move quickly, making sure to keep an eye on our surroundings. Slowing for just a second, I reach down and grab my gun again before turning down an alley between two buildings.
Grabbing my cell from my pocket I call Nick, and he answers on the first ring. “What the hell happened?”
“I need you to come pick us up. I’m at the corner of Eighth and Bouchard. Meet us at the back.”
He doesn’t hesitate or ask questions. “I’ll be there in five.”
I hang up then look at Emily who’s leaning against the wall, watching me with the gun in my hand. She looks away when I make eye contact and crosses her arms over her chest. I notice her tremble, her body probably still in shock. I shrug off my plaid button-down and pass it to her. “Here.” She doesn’t acknowledge me. “Come on, Em, just take the shirt.”
“No, thank you!” she grinds out.
With a frustrated sigh I step closer to put my shirt over her, but she pushes me away. “I said no th…” Her words trail off on a gasp. “Oh my god, Ryder, you’re bleeding.”
Huh? I look down to see the left side of my white T-shirt soaked with blood. What the fuck? Lifting it, I realize a bullet grazed me.
“Oh god!” I look up to see Em’s face ghost-white. “We have to go back, Ryder, we have to get that doctor to look at you.” She pulls at me in a panic. “Oh never mind, you stay here. I’ll run and get him.”
She bolts for the street but I grab her from behind before she can make it. “Hold up, baby.”
She pulls away then spins around. “You need to get looked at. You’ve been shot. You’re going to bleed to death… Oh god, oh god.” Her breathing turns erratic and she looks like she’s about to pass out.
I grab her upper arms and shake her before she can go into complete hysterics. “Whoa, Em, it’s okay. I’m fine, it’s just a graze.”
“A graze?” She stares at me wide-eyed, not understanding what that is.
“Yeah, the bullet just skimmed me. It didn’t penetrate. I just need to clean and bandage it. I’m not going to bleed to death.” Although now that I know about it, the fucking thing is starting to sting like a bitch.
She swallows thickly then looks back down at my shirt, which was a mistake. “Oh god.”
I put my fist under her chin and lift her gaze to mine. “It looks worse than what it is. Don’t look at it.”
She stares at me as if she can’t process what’s happened, and her bottom lip begins to tremble. “What the hell is going on, Ryder?”
I pull her against me when she starts sobbing and drape my shirt over her shaking body. “I’ll explain everything soon, Em. We need to get out of here first.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Nick pulls up at the end of the street. “Come on.” I lead her down the alley quickly then crawl in the back behind her.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Stone asks, looking at my bloody shirt.
“It’s just a graze. Drive and I’ll tell you the story.” I give him Emily’s address then relay the events of the shooting. I sense Emily look back and forth between us, piecing together that Nick is my partner. I reach for her hand but she moves to the far side of the seat, her intention of not wanting me to touch her loud and clear. It fucking sucks. By the time I finish telling Stone the story, we arrive at Emily’s complex. He parks behind the building and we walk in the back exit unnoticed.
Emily unlocks her door but I hold her back from entering, and signal for Nick to do a quick check. She watches me with questions but she doesn’t ask any. When her dog runs over she drops to her knees, burrowing her face in its neck, clearly needing it’s comfort. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of the little fucker, because I want to be the one to comfort her, but I doubt that will be happening anytime soon. Nick comes back, giving it the all clear.
“Do you have a first aid kit?” I ask, needing to attend to my ribs.
“Yeah.” She goes and grabs it from her bathroom then hands it to me without looking at me, then walks to her room without another word, the dog following closely behind her.
Nick quirks a brow at me. “Busted I take it?”
I glare at him, wanting to blame him for it because of the stupid phone call, but I know I have no one to blame but myself. Ignoring his question, I take my shirt off and head to her kitchen. As I clean and bandage myself I try not to think about the fact that this bullet would have hit Emily if I hadn’t made it in time.
“So I take it you don’t think that shooting was coincidental,” Nicks says, sensing my suspicion.
I shrug. “It’s possible, but no, I don’t think so. Something doesn’t feel right. Especially with the timing the car pulled out.”
“Are you thinking it was meant for you or her?”
“I…”
“Me?” Emily shrieks, cutting off my reply. Looking over, I see her standing at the edge of the kitchen. She’s changed into a pair of black yoga pants that mold to her lithe body like second skin, and an oversized sweater folded over her as if she’s trying to keep warm. She stares at Nick like he’s lost his mind for even suggesting it. “It’s not me, no one wants to shoot me.”
“But they want to shoot him?” he asks with a smirk, pointing at me.
She shrugs. “It’s possible. I know I do.”
I grunt and Nick chuckles, finding her sassy ass amusing. “I like her, Jameson.” He walks over to her and formally introduces himself. “I’m Nick Stone, Ryder’s partner.”
She accepts his hand timidly. “Hi. I’m Emily Michaels, which I guess you already know since it seems I’m part of whatever case you guys are working on.” Her tone drips with betrayal, making me feel like shit.