by Linda Kage
Closing her eyes briefly, Paige leaned in to him so she could inhale his scent from his shirt. Still relieved he hadn’t been at work and wasn’t the blob she’d seen lying in the middle of the street on TV, she whispered, “Do you know who the shooter is?”
“No.”
“How are we going to get back to Grammar Hall?”
“No idea,” he murmured only to stop dead in his tracks, making her bump into him.
Paige looked up over his shoulder to see what had stalled him. A shadowed figure blocked their escape, and he had a nasty-looking semi-automatic rifle hooked over his shoulder with a sling.
“Logan!” She hissed and instinctively tried to move around him, worried how much more exposed he was than she. But he became like steel, nearly crushing her fingers as he refused to let her wiggle out from behind him.
“Who’s down here?” a shockingly familiar voice called. “More sheep? Baa.”
“Einstein?”
The gunman reacted violently, rotating the gun around on its sling until he swung it in their direction and held it in firing position. He lurched a step into the alley toward them. Paige yelped out her shock while Logan whisked them nearly sideways, turning their bodies just enough that he could pin her to the brick wall, completely protecting her with his own body as he tucked her behind him.
“Paige?” Einstein called, sounding almost frightened. Lost.
“Oh my God. Einstein! What’re you doing?” She couldn’t believe…it couldn’t be possible. Just because he’d been a little strange…but he was so harmless.
Einstein stalked close enough for her to see the sweat gleaming on his face. He never once lowered the gun or took his aim off them as his pale brown eyes focused on her. What she’d once thought was an innocent baby face had contorted into the face of an executioner. Dull lifeless orbs stared from his blank gaze. She trembled, experiencing fear as she’d never experienced it before. The stranger before her could kill…mercilessly.
Eyeing Logan up and down, he asked suspiciously, “Who’s he?”
“Wh-what’re you doing, Einstein?” Paige repeated, her voice wobbling, her fingers digging deep into Logan’s arm, wishing he wasn’t so visible. “Put the gun down. Did you actually shoot someone?”
Taking his gaze off Logan, Einstein looked at her again. His face crumpled into a piteous expression, and his voice whined. “I did it for you, Paige.”
“Wha—” She licked her dry, cracked lips, afraid to ask. This was worse than a nightmare. She couldn’t even dream up something this horrific. “What did you do?”
Oh, God. What had he done?
“I killed him.” A rusty sob grated from his throat. “I killed him because he hurt you.”
She gasped, and Logan’s muscles tensed against her. “Dorian? You killed Dorian?”
Nodding, Einstein gulped. “I killed him.” Then a strange gleam entered his dead eyes before he smiled. “And it felt good. It felt like…justice. So I decided to kill them all. Everyone who ever made fun of me. Slaughter the sheep.”
Logan lifted his free hand in a surrendering kind of way. “Then why are you pointing that gun at Paige? She never made fun of you.” His voice was calm, placating.
It irritated Einstein. Slashing his gaze to Logan, his eyes flared with a rage Paige had never seen her friend turn on anyone. Gritting his teeth, the sixteen-year-old pulled the butt of the gun snug against his shoulder and focused his aim on Logan.
“Paige didn’t, but I don’t know about you. Who the hell are you?”
He didn’t give Logan a chance to answer. The crack of light and explosion of sound that followed dragged a scream of terror from Paige’s lungs.
In front of her, Logan jerked backward, bumping into her hard. Then his grip on her hand went slack. His body sagged, beginning to slip down hers like a limp sheet fluttering toward the ground.
“Logan?” She caught him around the waist and slid her hands up to support him by the armpits.
Head lulling against her shoulder, he didn’t respond.
“Logan!” This time the scream came from her very soul. “Noooo!”
Vaguely, she realized the danger was far from over, but a part of her had gone numb. Logan slumped in her arms. Sounds like a tortured animal rose in her throat, and she tilted her cheek to press it against his temple as she squeezed her eyes closed.
Logan.
“You like him.” The words came at her like an accusation.
Paige trembled and lifted her wet lashes. “I love him.”
Einstein gaped at her, looking thunderstruck. “I killed for you, and you went out and got a boyfriend?”
“Einstein.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “Please.”
Sobs consumed her, making her chest raw from the pain that tore through her heart. Her arms began to burn from holding Logan’s dead weight.
“Please.” She had no idea what she was begging for. Life maybe. Logan’s life. Einstein’s surrender.
Einstein watched the tears slide down her cheeks, a look of awe on his face. Then his eyes widened and horror crossed his expression. He jerked the gun away from her and awkwardly ripped the sling off his shoulder. When she realized he was trying to position the long barrel to aim at himself, her eyes flared open wide.
“Don’t. Einstein!”
He didn’t hear her, didn’t even pause.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tucked her face against Logan’s cooling cheek and everything inside her jumped when the next shot blasted a second later. It deafened her, but she still heard the rifle clatter to the asphalt a split second before the body dropped beside it. She didn’t have the courage to check, but she knew.
Einstein was gone.
Quivering, crying, panting hard, she shuffled backward until her back met the wall, then she slid down in increments, cradling Logan carefully so as not to jar him. When she was finally seated, his long legs sprawled away from them as she gently supported his head in her lap. His eyes were closed and lips slightly parted.
Even though she braced herself before looking, the sight of his wound still sent a shockwave of electric proportions shooting to every nerve in her body, waking the numb sensors with a zap of terror.
“Logan?” Her voice shook. “Logan, please open your eyes.”
Blood pooled from the hole, making the stain on his torn shirt grow bigger. She closed her eyes, prayed not to vomit, and slapped her hand over the area, pressing down hard.
Stanch the blood flow.
He gasped, and his muscles seized. Paige opened her eyes to find his own had opened. Gritting his teeth, he wheezed, “What…where…”
Moaning with relief, Paige kissed his hair, his forehead, the side of his face. “Shh. Don’t talk. Don’t talk. You were shot. You’re going be okay. You’ll be fine.”
Except she could feel warm liquid life ooze between her fingers. He wouldn’t stop bleeding. A chest shot couldn’t be good. Couldn’t be—
“Einstein?” he rasped, trying to look around but immediately falling still with an injured grunt.
“He’s…he’s dead.” Still too afraid to glance Einstein’s way to confirm her own words, she kept her gaze on Logan’s as she stroked his face. “It’s okay now. It’s over. We’re gonna get you help, and everything’s going to be fine.”
The only thing on him he could seem to move was his eyes. He kept shifting them around as if he wanted to assess the situation. Then he stopped, his glazed gaze landing on her face. “But blood makes you woozy.”
Of all the things to say. Of all the things to remind her.
Paige swallowed and gave a quiet nod, refusing to look at her hand pressed against his ribcage. Her stomach was already rebelling, and her head felt heavy. He went briefly out of focus in her vision. She concentrated all her attention on his face, making that the center of her universe.
He looked pale. Pasty pale. And he wasn’t breathing so well.
“I won’t leave you,” she promised, thinking how strange she sound
ed and wondering why she’d said that. People said such odd things in extreme situations. Her thoughts were so weird.
There was so much sweat on Logan’s face.
He covered her hand she was using to bandage his wound as if to comfort her. His fingers felt freezing against her own. “It’s okay,” he slurred. “You can pass out if you need to.”
Paige shook her head, refusing to leave him. Her lashes fluttered as she fought his suggestion.
What sounded like a stampede of clopping boots on concrete invaded her consciousness. She looked up just in time to see half a dozen military-looking men in black combat gear toting long rifles stream into the alley, shouting orders and questions.
“Oh, thank God,” she mumbled dazedly—they were saved—just as the blackness swarmed in and enveloped her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
SHIFTING IN HER SEAT, Paige decided the cushions in a hospital waiting room chair lost all sense of comfort after five hours. She straightened and twisted her spine to work out the kinks while she checked the clock on the wall.
Almost midnight. Thank the Lord. She was ready for this day to be over.
Weary yet wired, she pushed to her feet to pace again. Other worried families of other wounded Granton students had gathered in the same room. But she ignored them.
A cooking show began on the television hanging from the ceiling. Since the thought of food turned her stomach, she climbed onto the chair below the TV and turned the channel…for the tenth time today.
Pushing the next arrow, the next station in line flipped to CNN. Immediately, aerial footage of Granton sprang onto the screen.
“So far, there are six confirmed deaths, including the shooter, and at least two dozen injuries. Lisa, on the scene, has spoken with authorities and—”
Her vision graying at the fringes, Paige stamped the next button again, and no one in the waiting room objected to her hurry. The station landed on a cartoon of a carpenter with talking tools. She left it there.
But six deaths?
She stepped off the chair and stared sightlessly at the sea of worried faces surrounding her. It didn’t seem possible or real. She wanted to pull her hair and scream and make the day—the entire weekend—start over again…well, except maybe for last night, with Logan.
How could Einstein have done what he’d done?
And how could he say he’d done it for her, putting some of the culpability on her shoulders? She didn’t want anything to do with it, didn’t understand any of it, just wanted it gone. But mostly, she wanted to see Logan.
When a doctor appeared in the entrance of the room, looking grave, she held her breath. He called a name familiar to her, the name of someone she was sure she’d shared her chemistry course with last semester. A handful of people rose and followed the doctor into a tiny room to the side. The cries and wails that followed had Paige shaking all over.
One more life gone.
Blinking rapidly, she glanced toward the television as if she could still see the emergency vehicles flooding her beloved campus on the screen. She closed her eyes and tried to settle her erratic breathing.
Seven people. Dead. For no good reason.
Realizing news of the shooting had been broadcasting on CNN, a national network, Paige winced, thinking of Kayla, who had no doubt seen the coverage. She was probably worried sick. Paige strode from the waiting room, glad she had something to do while she waited for word from Logan’s doctor about how his surgery was going.
She approached the nurses’ station. She knew the hospital was busy—Logan certainly wasn’t the only gunshot victim with a critical injury who was being treated. But the nurses had been kind to her so far. They’d given her an extra pair of scrubs to wear so she could change out of her blood-splattered clothes. Then they’d let her use the phone so she could call Logan’s family because she’d left her cell in the dorm room when she’d snuck away from Tess and Bailey. One more request shouldn’t be asking too much.
“The doctor’s just finishing up with your boyfriend’s surgery,” a sympathetic RN told her as Paige approached. “I bet he’ll be out in a few minutes to update you. ’Kay?”
Paige blew out a breath, not sure if she was relieved she’d get news soon, or scared to death it might not be positive news. “Thanks.” She gulped once more before asking, “Is it okay if I borrow the phone again? I forgot to call my own family the first time and tell them I was okay.”
Pity filled the nurse’s gaze as she nodded. “Yes, today it’s fine. Go ahead, hon.”
Paige slid gratefully behind the counter to the phone. She’d yet to mention it to anyone, but she’d found a hole in her shirt when she’d changed into the borrowed scrubs.
A bullet hole.
Actually, one of the nurses had spotted it. For the longest time, Paige had just stared at it, confused. The nurse had searched her for an injury Paige already knew she didn’t have. The only thing they discovered was a bruise forming on her breastbone. And suddenly, everything became clear.
The round Einstein had fired at Logan must’ve passed through him and caught her. She was unharmed only because she’d been wearing her brother’s thick, metal cross amulet—now dented and the ruby shattered.
After the nurse had confiscated her old clothes to give to the police for evidence and loaned her a pair of scrubs to wear, Paige kept rubbing the necklace with awe.
She fingered it now as she dialed Kayla’s number.
It was a sign, she told herself. Trace had helped protect her, letting her know he wasn’t upset with her, so he must approve of her decision to be with Logan.
At least, that’s what she chose to believe it meant.
The phone barely rang once before Kayla answered with, “Paige?”
Paige closed her eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t—”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Kayla began to sob. “I thought you were dead. We saw the news on TV, and I called you immediately, but your roommate answered your phone, hysterical, saying you had run off. She didn’t know where you were and was sure something awful had happened. I thought I was never going to see you again. Oh my God, I thought—”
“Kayla. Kayla!” Paige laughed as tears prickled her eyes. “I’m fine. I swear to you, I’m okay.”
“Oh my God, why didn’t you call sooner?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I just…everything’s been so insane. Logan was shot. I’m at the hospital. He’s been in surgery for hours, and I can’t…I just can’t think straight. I’m sorry.”
“You’re at the hospital? We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” Paige nodded and closed her eyes, relieved to know she’d soon have her best friend in the world with her. Then her eyes opened wide. “Wait. Did you say a few minutes?”
“Yeah. We’re in Granton now. We left as soon as we saw the report on TV. God, this entire town is a chaotic mess. They’re not letting anyone on or off campus, and no one seems to know anything. We’ve been driving around the streets, just looking for you for the past hour.”
Astonished to learn Kayla had jumped into a car to come to her, Paige pressed her hand to her heart. “Who’s we?” she asked, expecting to hear Kayla say her boyfriend or her parents had come with her.
But instead she answered, “Your dad and I. Who else?”
Paige blinked. “My dad?”
“Yeah. He’s busy driving right now, but he says to tell you he loves you and we’ll be there soon.”
A tear dripped down Paige’s cheek as she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder than that. “Hurry.” Knowing that support was on its way made her nearly dizzy with relief. She’d been so preoccupied just holding herself together through most of the day, the thought of not having to do so any longer actually drained her.
“I love you guys.”
“We love you too. See you soon.” When Kayla hung up, Paige stood, frozen in her shoes. When the dial tone blared in her ear, she quickly punched in her dorm r
oom.
Bailey answered as quickly as Kayla had. “Where the hell are you?”
After another five minutes of getting lectured at by Bailey and then Tess for scaring the life out of them, they spent another five minutes telling her how much they loved her and were glad she was safe. If officials weren’t sequestering everyone on campus to their dormitories, she had a feeling her suitemates would be on their way to sit with her at the hospital as well.
By the time she hung up with them, she was a watering pot. She was wiping her soggy cheeks when Logan’s family rushed down the hall. His parents and two brothers skidded to a halt when they spotted her.
Taking in Paige’s wet, red eyes, Mrs. Xander pressed a hand to her heart and hiccupped a sound of agony. “We’re too late.”
“No.” Paige shook her head. “Actually, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten an update yet.”
His mother blew out a breath and nodded, though she looked scared spitless. Logan’s family entire family looked shell-shocked.
Logan’s father went to the nurses’ desk, demanding answers just as the doctor appeared in the hall, striding toward them.
“Logan Xander family?” he asked.
Mrs. Xander reached out and clutched Paige’s hand, and Paige held on to her for dear life as she whispered, “Yes.”
Paige held her hands against her chest as she cautiously trailed Logan’s parents and brothers down the hall to his recovery room. The doctor might have told them he’d come out of surgery very well and was awake and cognizant, but she couldn’t actually believe it until she saw him.
Holding back as his parents, then his brothers, went in first, she remained just outside the doorway, eager to catch a glimpse of him.
When his mother whispered his name as she crept close, the figure lying on the hospital bed moved his head to the side and opened his eyes.
“Mom?”
Tears flooded Paige’s cheeks as she watched his mother grasp his hands and weep over him. “We were so worried. We’d thought we’d lost you for good, that it was too late.”
His dad and brother corralled around his bed, chipping in their own greetings of deep regret, and then thanksgiving that he was alive.
