Page 32 of Bullseye
Still no sign of Celia, so they must be on the outs, too. It’s going around.
I glance at Seneca’s gorgeous face clouded with worry. She gives me a small smile.
“Nick and I will take Seth in. Bucky and Tex, you watch the Taphouse, and Bullseye, take Seneca home,” Harry instructs.
“No.” Shaking my head, I turn to her. “We’re coming. We’ll meet you there.”
She nods.
Nick revs the engine, ready to go.
Harry yells over the engine. “Bullseye—”
“—I need this, Harry. Selfishly, I need to see that he doesn’t die.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Suddenly, I feel a warm, slender hand in mine. Looking down at my hand, I see Seneca has interwoven her fingers with mine.
“Go, Harry. We’ll be right behind you.”
Nick peels off, and I turn to Seneca.
“Something tells me you also need to know he doesn’t die.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Reluctantly, I drop her hand so we can rush to our bikes and take off, chasing Nick’s truck to the hospital.
Chapter Nine
Bullseye
“Harry.” I rush up to him and take his hand. We shake. “What’s happening? How is he?”
“They aren’t sure yet. It seems the shoulder is a bad place to get stabbed.”
“I would think there’s really no good place to be stabbed.” I knew it. The shoulder is freaking dangerous. That’s why the weak pulse, paleness, and shallow breath—with that much blood loss, even Dynamite is at risk of going into shock.
Harry stands stiffly and eyes Seneca.
“Harry.” She nods to him.
“Hi, Seneca. Thanks for coming.”
“We’re a brotherhood, right?” She shrugs.
“Yeah, we are. That’s right. A brotherhood.”
The way he says it.
Glancing over, I see Nick sitting on a chair in the waiting area, with his arm draped across the back of another plastic chair. His face is drawn and for once, he looks his age. We make eye contact, and then shaking his head and sighing, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs.
Oh crap. Glancing down at Seneca, I see her soft face contort with worry. She knows there’s something going on.
