Page 13 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
Chapter Five
Anthony
Waiting for the cops to arrive makes me feel like a circus monkey. Bobbi’s pacing, looking like she wants to shoot something, while Ivy sits on the curb.
I sit next to her, holding her hand—the good one. Ivy has a cut on her right palm. I have no idea how she got it, but it must’ve happened when I pushed her away from the SUV and rolled on the ground with her. It’ll heal, but damn it. Her beautiful, talented hands are so important to her.
Residents of the building are looking down from their balconies. A few moments later, Byron and Julie appear, their faces white.
“Are you okay? What the hell happened?” she demands. Then, without waiting for a response, she hugs Ivy, who’s huddled on the curb, her face too pale.
I let her sit on the other side of Ivy. What the hell happened is exactly what I want to know too. How did the driver get past the gates? You can’t do that unless you live here or somebody within lets you in. I highly doubt the driver lives here, though. It’d be too much of a coincidence. And he wouldn’t be dumb enough to betray himself that way.
Restless energy bubbles inside me. I want to hit something. If the bastard hadn’t run, not even his own mother would recognize him.
Byron examines the Escalade. “Good lord, what the hell happened? Hit and run?”
“No.” I swallow the rest of angry words squirming to get out. I don’t have time or mental energy for petty squabbles with him. My priority is making sure Ivy’s okay.
“Are you all right?” Byron asks, looking at my shirt and pants.
Huh. He actually sounds like he cares. I glance down and see the bits of grass and stains. My right elbow is scraped. That’s nothing. I would’ve given up my life to spare Ivy the horror of what happened here. Her bloodless face and wide gray eyes full of terror flash in my head again. It’s my fault. I should’ve been more vigilant. More alert.
“Some idiot drunk driver or something?” Byron asks.
“No.” Although I don’t want to, I stand up. Byron needs to understand how serious the situation is, and I don’t want to say it out loud in front of Ivy, make her relive the trauma. I pull Byron aside and lower my voice. “The guy who hit us pulled back and came at us again.”
Terror refilms my mouth with something bitter and nauseating. I’ve never felt such helplessness before because I knew I couldn’t protect Ivy. I raged inwardly that the son of a bitch didn’t resort to shooting, because then I could’ve blocked the bullets with my body.
Byron sucks in a breath. “On purpose?”
I just look at him.
“Shit.” He puts his hands on his hips. “All right, let’s be clear about one thing. We both care about Rizzy. So if there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it.”
I start to sneer, ready to tell him to go fuck a tree. I catch myself just in time. No matter how much I hate Byron, if he can help me keep Ivy alive, then I’m willing to set aside my hostility.
Besides, I didn’t pull him aside to fling insults. “Watch your back. Julie’s too. The asshole who did this tonight doesn’t care who he has to plow through to get to Ivy, and it’ll kill her if anything happens to either of you.”
I look away, feeling guilty and hating it. As much as I despise Byron, that doesn’t mean I want him or his sister harmed. But because of their association with Ivy—and because I haven’t been able to do anything about the asshole after her—they’ve been drawn into the mess.
The police and paramedics arrive. The scene becomes chaotic, lights flashing, the driveway cordoned off so the officers can start an inspection of the debris and tire marks. It’s too bad they can’t tell who was behind the wheel from the rubber on the concrete.
While paramedics examine Ivy and Bobbi, I talk to one of the officers about how it went down. I keep it short and to the point, but as I speak, my head replays the whole scene. Panic wraps around me like an icy vine. It was so close. If Bobbi hadn’t been in the car…
Don’t go there. It won’t help.
When I’m finished giving my statement, I turn to Byron, who’s been listening next to me, his expression growing darker. “Ivy and Bobbi need to go to a hospital and get checked out. X-ray, MRI, CT scan…everything to make sure nothing’s broken, nothing’s bleeding inside. Sam Peacher died of internal bleeding.”
I clench my teeth for a moment. The Pearces have a wing named after them at a huge hospital nearby. For Ivy, I’m willing to swallow my pride.
“I know your family probably has better connections than I do with the local hospitals,” I say to Byron. Why didn’t I donate more to medical charities? “If you can arrange for Bobbi and Ivy to be checked out as quickly as possible, I’d appreciate it. Also, extra security at the hospital.”
“Of course,” he says without hesitation or a hint of smugness. “I’ll come along and see to it personally.”
“It’s best you don’t.” I don’t have the mental bandwidth to deal with his presence any more than I have to, and I can’t protect him or Julie. “Didn’t you hear what I said about Ivy being a target? Whoever came at Ivy tonight didn’t care that she was with me and Bobbi. You need to stay here and watch Julie’s back. The fucker knows she and Ivy are friends.”
The muscles in his jaw flex, but he finally nods, then makes a call.
