I dropped my chin to my chest, and let the water sluice over my scalp and down my back before I shut it off. “Alright.” As I stepped out of the tub, I reached for the towel hanging on the rack, but it slipped off and fell on the floor.
As I bent down to pick it up, red hot pain lanced through my shoulder a split second before Decker dove onto me and knocked all three of us down to the tiled floor.
All at once, a riot of bullets hit the bathroom wall, leaving holes the size of large grapes in the plaster wall. Regina screamed, and Decker roared, “Stay down, Regi!”
I lay there, slightly disoriented after knocking my head against the tile floor, while Decker hovered over me like some dark avenging angel. His face was marred with a fierce frown and a deep crease formed between his brows.
I glanced up at Decker and then at Regina, who was next to me. I reached out, she quickly grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. “I’m okay,” she admitted and trembled.
Not entirely sure whether she was reassuring herself or me, but it eased my worry that she hadn’t been hit by one of those bullets.
“You’re hit,” Decker said, his voice firm but void of emotion.
“My shoulder,” I uttered, peering at where the throbbing radiated from. “I’m okay, Deck.”
Still in a crouched position, his eyes fixed onto the blood seeping out of the wound, before he turned his narrowed gaze back to my face. “Don’t move from this spot.” I nodded as he turned to Regina. “Regi, I need you to put pressure on his wound.”
“With what?” Panic seeped into her voice. Her dark eyes were wide and centered on my wound.
“I can do it,” I said, but Decker shook his head.
“She can do it.” Decker disappeared from my sight, returning a moment later with two blue towels. “Regi, listen to me. I need you to press on the wound and don’t stop until I come back, or Krew will bleed out. Understand?”
“I—I…”
“You can do it,” his tone brooked no argument.
“K, lift up your shoulder.”
I did as he directed, assuming that Decker was checking for an exit wound.
“Through and through. Good.” He then proceeded to place one towel under me, and then pushed me back down. “Press here, Regi,” Decker explained in a throaty whisper as he pressed the other towel over the bullet wound. “I’ll be back. No matter what, don’t leave this spot. Don’t stand. Don’t move. Don’t do anything other than what I told you to do. Understand?”
He peered into Regina’s eyes then mine, wanting confirmation that we wouldn’t be hauling ass out of the house.
We both nodded. Then Decker took off. I wanted to call him back, and from the stricken look on Regina’s face, she wanted the same. To ease her fear, I said, “He’ll be back.”
“How do you know?” Fat tears streamed down her face as she pressed hard against my gunshot.
I groaned from the pain, then breathed through it and said, “You know Decker. When did he ever break a promise that he’d made?” My question had Regina dropping her eyes.
“I don’t know Decker, or you, anymore. I know I sound like a broken record, but it’s been years since we’ve seen each other—I don’t even know if I should have slept with you both,” she confessed.
“What do you mean by that?” I didn’t mean to be harsh with her, but the sting of her words was like taking several more bullets—this time to the heart. “What did we do to make you question us?”
Her eyes went wide again. “It’s not you or Decker, damn it.” She wiped her trailing tears with the back of her hand. “There were things that happened in the…” She gulped; her spine straightened like she was steadying herself before telling me one of her secrets. “The past messed me up. And I don’t know if bringing it up will help any of us.”
It was my turn to be surprised. “Us? What happened in the past, Regina?”
She opened her mouth, but more gunshots echoed off the battered walls. I wrapped my good arm around her and brought her flat to the floor, and covered her with my body.
My injury made my movements awkward, yet her hand never left my shoulder. If anything, she put even more pressure on the wound. Or was she trying to push me away?
As I looked down at her, utter terror overtook her face. Her skin went pale white, like she was staring at a ghost. Her mouth gaped opened, ready to let loose a scream.
I clamped my hand over her mouth to keep her from exposing our location. And I wasn’t going to give the shooters any indication that we were still alive.
Regina began to buck—she was fighting me—her fisted hands flung about and knocked me in the face a few times, catching me in the left eye. For a second, I pulled back and she screamed like her soul was torn out of her body. I felt her anguish down to my own soul.
