18. Cara #3
Maggie comes in with three mugs of tea, gives one to each of us, and Ice Pick walks through the front door a second later, his expression telling me something's shifted.
I put the mug down. "What."
"The police got what they needed. One of the women appeared at an office window and held up a piece of paper."
Sarah goes pale.
"What did it say?" I ask.
His jaw tightens. "HELP."
Everything in me goes cold. "When?"
"Seven minutes ago."
"The police?"
"They’re moving. Vulture put Falcon on the rear route with Rook and Zip. If Merrick's people try to push the women out the back instead of through the front, that's where they'll come."
The mug's still warm in my hands and I can't feel it anymore. "Falcon's there? At the warehouse?"
"He’s covering, not entering. Vulture gave him the assignment this morning." Ice Pick says it like it should reassure me, and some old version of me almost lets it.
"Since when does covering mean safe," I say, and he doesn't have an answer for that, because we both know it doesn't.
"What do we do?" Sarah asks.
Ice Pick looks around the finished house. "Exactly what you've been doing. Wait."
We sit in the living room without the television on, without pretending to talk about something else. Updates arrive slowly.
Security Phone:
Police on scene.
Security Phone:
Warehouse surrounded.
Then nothing for six minutes, which is a very long time when you know women are trapped in a building with men who consider them property, and the man you love is standing at the one door those men might choose instead.
Sarah holds my hand. Maggie sits on my other side.
Ice Pick stands by the window without pacing, which is worse than watching him pace, because it means he's listening to something on an earpiece he hasn't told us about.
His posture changes. Just slightly, but it’s enough that I'm on my feet before I've decided to be.
"What?" I ask him.
"There’s contact at the rear," he says, already moving toward the door. "Shots fired."
The room goes white at the edges. "Cara…" Sarah starts.
"I'm fine," I say, which isn't true and isn't the point.
My phone buzzes. Not the security channel. Zip, direct.
Zip:
Women secured. All four out, being processed by police now.
I read it twice before the relief even has room to land, because that's not the message I need.
Cara:
Falcon?
The three dots appear and disappear twice before an answer comes, and each time they vanish I stop breathing a little more.
Zip:
He's hit. Ambulance en route. Knox is with him.
The mug shatters on the floor before I understand I've dropped it. Sarah's hands are on my shoulders, saying my name, and I can't hear her properly, because the only sound in the whole world is the word hit sitting behind my eyes like it's been carved there.
"Cara." Maggie, is gripping my arm hard enough to ground me. "Breathe. What did it say?"
"He's hit." My voice doesn't sound like mine. "They're bringing him here."
"Here?"
"The hospital, I mean, I don't…" I can't finish the sentence. I call Zip instead of texting, and he picks up on half a ring, gunfire and shouting somewhere behind him.
"Zip. Tell me." My voice is shaking.
"Gunshot, right side, below the ribs." His voice is fast, controlled, and the voice of a man holding himself together by main force. "He's conscious. He's talking. Knox has him, there’s pressure's on the wound, and we're five minutes from the hospital."
"What happened?" I need to know. I need to understand what happened, not just the wound.
"One of Merrick's men tried to push a woman out the rear door as a shield.
Falcon put himself between them." A pause, and when he speaks again his voice cracks once before he catches it.
"He took the shot meant for her. She's fine.
He's not, not yet, but he's talking, Cara, he's talking and he's cursing me out for not covering him fast enough, so hold onto that. "
"And Merrick?"
"He’s not in the building. He must have cleared out before we moved. Police are widening the search now." He says it flat, like he’s already filing it away as tomorrow's problem, because tonight only has room for one thing. "It doesn't matter right now. Get here, now."
I'm already moving toward the door before I've told my body to. "Which hospital?"
"Same one as Emily."
"I'm coming."
"Cara…"
"I'm coming, Zip." My voice doesn't shake this time. It's gone somewhere past shaking, into a place that's just certainty. "Tell him I'm coming."
Maggie's already got her keys. Sarah's pulling on her coat without being asked. Ice Pick appears in the doorway; his face carved from something that doesn't have room for softness right now.
"I'll drive," he says. "Fast."
We're in the car within ninety seconds, and the whole ride there I hold onto one sentence like it's the only rope left between me and the ground. He's talking. He's cursing Zip out. Hold onto that.
I do. I hold onto it the entire way, because it's the only thing standing between me and the five years I already survived once, and I am not doing that again. Not without him. Not ever again.