Page 54 of Stella's Christmas Rescue
“I’ll be alright, Stella. Is everyone else okay?”
Two more gunshots ring out.
Jordan answers, “I’m not sure. I wish?—"
I’m staring at the blood spreading up Alex’s jeans under my hand, so I don’t see what has Jordan’s attention, not at first. But then I worry he’s been hit. I look up and his eyes are glued to a firetruck. It’s slowly crossing the street, so people can hide behind it. A second one follows tightly behind, almost completely blocking the road from whoever is shooting at the parking lot.
Jordan says under his breath, “Thank you, Michael!” Then he uses the scope on his shotgun to look for the shooter.
Two firefighters run to us from the trucks, medical bags in hand. “We’ll take over from here, Miss.”
I stand up and stagger backward. My brother’s blood is on my hands and being so cold outside, my hands ache from it almost instantly. My hands are the only thing I can feel. It’s like a distraction, until I look at them again and see they’re covered in blood. Jordan yanks my wrist to pull me back down. He scolds, “What’re you doing?”
“I…I don’t know.”
He studies at my face. “You alright?”
I blink and shake my head. My hands are so red and painful. Alex’s jeans are cut and ripped, and the firefighters are working on him. People are still running and screaming, but now most of them are behind the fire trucks or back in the store. I want to throw up and I’m dizzy. “I’m not good.”
“Take your coat off, roll it up, and put it under Alex’s head.”
I nod, then do it. The cold hits me hard. “Now what?”
Jordan asks the firefighters, “He’s good?”
“Yeah, he’ll be alright. Jordan, you’re the Marine guy. What do we do?”
“I need to get her out of here, someplace safe. And I need the shooter to see me do it. They’re after her.”
“The office,” the firefighter says.
Jordan nods, then grabs my wrist again. “Come on,” he tugs at me, but I’m like a stone.
“I can’t leave Alex!”
“He’ll be fine, we have to get you out of here!”
I shake my head, “No! Someone should call the police!”
He drops the gun and takes my shoulders in his hands. “Stella, listen to me. If they see you’re gone, then they’ll stop shooting at everyone. Sheriff Brinks is on vacation. We have to handle this ourselves.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t keep staring at Alex’s leg, if my feet are gonna work. “Okay. Alex,” I open my eyes onto his face, “You have to live.”
He chuckles and insists, “I’ll be fine, I swear.”
I nod and tell Jordan, “Let’s go.”
He pulls me along, and we dash from behind his truck to behind the firetrucks. When we’re in the gap, another shot is fired. He saw me. Good. He knows we’re on the move and going away from Bailey’s. We run behind the next firetruck and across the street to the firehouse. At the gap between the trucks and thebuilding, he fires again. Once we’re inside, my feet stop without a thought. “We’re safe, right?”
He shakes his head, “Not at all. I’m putting you in the office.”
I go with him, but ask, “Why the office?”
We go up the stairs and I realize why. The office is a small room with one window that overlooks the firehouse and one that looks outside. Limited access, easy to defend. Jordan says, “I’m going back out there to find that asshole, and I need to know you’re going to stay here. I know you hate doing what other people tell you to do, but you have to stay put, okay?”
I nod rapidly. “I won’t go anywhere until you come back for me.”
“You sure?”
