Page 172 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

Rick had Lia pinned, straddling her as he yanked her arms behind her back. She thrashed beneath him, but it was over.

Jackson never spared them a glance. His wild eyes raked over me, taking in the blood on my clothes, the tremor in my limbs.

“Fuck. Baby. Are you hurt?” His hands roamed over me, searching for injuries.

“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him.

“You’re not okay,” he growled. “You’re bleeding.”

I glanced at my shoulder. Blood soaked my sleeve, the pain now a dull, pulsing ache.

“It’s just a graze. A little bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Jackson didn’t look convinced. He yanked off his shirt and pressed it firmly against the wound, his hands steady even as the bond between us screamed with barely-leashed panic.

A few feet away, Jason’s voice cracked. “Lia, what the fuck were you thinking?”

He paced in front of his sister, fingers tangled in his hair, Naomi’s blood smeared across his shirt and hands. He looked wrecked, like the ground had split open beneath him.

Lia lay on her stomach, Rick straddling her back to keep her pinned. Tears poured down her face, her breath coming in short, ugly gasps.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whimpered. “It was an accident. Naomi and Thomas made me do it.”

I stayed cradled against Jackson’s chest, his arms locked around me like iron. The bullet wound in my shoulder throbbed in time with my heartbeat. Warm blood still seeped through the makeshift bandage.

“It’s over, Lia,” I said.

Her head snapped up. Those wild eyes locked onto mine, and the mask shattered completely.

“This is all your fault!” she screamed, thrashing violently under Rick. “You took him! You ruined everything!”

Jason dropped to his knees beside her. His own tears spilled freely as he struggled to keep his sister still.

“Lia… please. Stop.”

Her struggles slowly weakened. Her body sagged against the concrete, but the hate in her eyes never dimmed.

“Is she on drugs?” Jason muttered, voice breaking. “What the hell is this?”

I watched her, that strange knot of pity and unease twisting tighter in my chest. Had she always been like this, just better at hiding it? How had I not seen it?

Jackson's hand moved slowly over my uninjured arm. Through the bond, I could feel the storm raging inside him. Fear for me. Relief that I was alive. Fury so sharp it bordered on murderous. But underneath all of it was grief. Lia had been his friend. And he hadn't said a word since she'd started talking.

In the distance, sirens wailed, growing louder until red and blue lights flashed through the warehouse windows.

Officers spilled out of the cruisers, hands on their holsters, shouting commands. Jason lifted both hands immediately.

“Over here! We need medics — now!”

Paramedics rushed in. One team dropped beside Naomi and started CPR. Another headed straight for me. Someone tried to pull me away from Jackson. They failed. The paramedic took one look at Jackson’s face and wisely decided not to argue.

I hissed as they cleaned the wound. The bullet had torn a path through the meat of my upper arm, close to the shoulder. It hurt like hell, but the bone was untouched.

“Through-and-through,” the older paramedic said. “Missed anything vital. You’re lucky.”

“Doesn’t feel lucky,” I muttered.

He snorted. “No, but it could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.”