Page 102 of Sheltering You

After Derrick’s shower, Jasmine tortured him with the hydrogen peroxide again, then put another bandage on his wound. It was past noon by the time they were ready.

Not that they had anywhere to go.

The night before, Michael had told them to sit tight until they heard from him. Derrick had called his brother that morning, but he hadn’t answered, only texted back saying he was working on it and to stay out of sight.

Which meant being stuck in that tiny room with a beautiful—and embarrassed, Derrick guessed—woman and a sullen kid.

Fun for everyone.

He ordered a pizza and a family-sized salad for lunch, which they ate sitting on their separate beds while they watched a superhero movie.

After that, they played a few rounds of Uno, and Derrick even let Rabie win the second one, hoping it would shift the kid’s mood.

It did, a little.

The sun was sinking on what seemed like a beautiful day outside when the burner finally rang. Derrick swung his long legs off the end of the bed where he’d been sitting cross-legged, teaching Rabie and Jasmine how to play gin rummy—the tiny room didn’t have a table or any chairs—and grabbed the phone from the bedside table. He saw the familiar number and answered with, “Please, tell me you have a plan.”

“Going a little crazy, are you?” Michael sounded amused.

“You have no idea.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

“How about the wound?”

Derrick turned to find that Rabie had gone to the bathroom. Jasmine was watching Derrick.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Jasmine’s been having all sorts of fun pouring salt into it.”

Her jaw dropped, and amusement danced in her eyes. “Not much fun,” she said. “Only the proper amount of fun.”

Michael must’ve heard because he laughed. “She’s hilarious when she lets her guard down. It doesn’t happen very often.”

It did with Derrick. Or it had, before this…adventure.

Not that he wanted to kill the mood, but he needed to know… “What about the guys at the parking lot?”

“One’s dead.”

Oh.

Wow.

Derrick had killed a man. Actually killed him.

He, who’d never taken a shot at a deer, had killed a human being.

“The other’s critically wounded,” Michael continued. “We got someone at the hospital to take him into custody if he wakes up, but it’s not looking good.”

Maybe Derrick had killed two men.

“You with me?”

“Yup.” Derrick couldn’t seem to force anything else out of his mouth.

“Couple things about that.” His brother’s tone softened the slightest. “First, it was them or Jasmine and Rabie. You didn’t have a choice.”