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I exhaled hard and nodded. “Yeah.”
He glanced at the open door beside me. “You gonna let me in, or do I have to patch up whoever has been shot out here?”
Shot…shot…he’s not.I swallowed hard, unable to move for a second…
And he saw. A scowl came before he softened his tone. “You want to let me in, buddy?”
I scanned the street and stepped aside. “He’s inside.”
The guy moved like a fighter, thick shoulders bunching as he hauled the bag with him and stepped inside. He didn’t even flinch at the body lying in the kitchen. I locked the front door and followed, watching him as he neared Tobias, who still had dad’s shirt clenched in his fist.
“He didn’t tell us who,” my brother said as he slowly lifted his gaze. “He didn’t tell us who.”
“You want me to have a look?”
Care. Compassion. The kind of carefulness that only came with years of practice echoed from the guy as he reached for my brother’s hands and gently pulled them away. “Let me look.”
Tobias did, watching with a shell-shocked stare as the guy did his best. He pressed two fingers to my father’s neck and waited. I could’ve told him it was useless. But what was the fucking point?
What was the point of anything?
They had our sister.
And now our brother.
“I’m sorry.” Freddy’s guy dropped his hand and shook his head. “He’s gone.”
Tobias slumped to the floor, his hands resting on the top of his drawn-up knees as he stared at me blankly. “What the fuck do we do now?”
He looked at me as though he hadn’t thought it’d come to this. What did he think was going to happen when he took aim and squeezed the trigger?
“There’s no easy answer,” Freddy’s guy answered. “What I can tell you is, he’s gone, so I guess you need to think about family.”
Tobias glanced his way, frowned, and focused as though he finally realized someone else was here. He glanced at our father’s body. “Not about him. Abouther…our stepsister.”
“Stepsister?” The guy glanced my way, confused.
But it wasn’t just confusion, was it? He was…wary. “They have your stepsister?”
They?
Tobias stared at the guy. “What the fuck do you know?” My brother pushed upward, climbing to his feet. His eyes darkening to that terrifying glint.“Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“DeLuca,” he answered. But it wasn’t out of fear. He was concerned, but not about us. “Who has your stepsister?”
“The Order,” I answered, earning a glare from T. One I met with my own. “Freddy sent him, right? So that means we can trust him.”
Trust him to patch a wound maybe, but trust him not to go to the cops? I stared at T. The last thing I wanted was my brother charged with patricide. My heart raced and my mouth went dry. In my head, I saw them when I raced through the trees…T with his gun in his hand and our father bleeding in his arms.
“Trust?” T glared, snapping me back out of my head. “Hasn’t the last twenty-four fucking hours told you anything, brother? We can’t fucking trust him. We can’t fucking trust anyone.” He glared at Dad. “Not even blood.”
“I’m not with The Order.” DeLuca shoved up from the floor.
“Yeah?”T was pissed now, more than he was before. “Who do you work for?”
“Sacred Heart Hospital.”
My brother grew furious, stepping closer to the guy. “I said,who the fuck do you work for?”
