Chapter 13

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Killian

The mound up ahead resembled a tree stump, but after a few more steps, the truth of it ripped my heart out. Noah under Simon , not moving.

Simon brought his gun down to finish him off.

"Hey!" I aimed up.

Simon swung his gun toward me.

I fired, the gun boomed and bucked in my hand, and the round punched through his gut. He gasped, teetering, taking too damn long to fall. I crossed the last few strides in a blur and kicked him off Noah. He sprawled on his back, moaning and swearing, bleeding from his stomach.

I tore the gun from his loose fingers—he wasn't going anywhere—and dropped beside Noah. He gasped, wheezed, trying to breathe too fast. Fuck, he was pale, his lips blue, his eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed.

"Noah?" His cheek burned cold under the palm of my hand. His mouth worked but made no sound. "It's all right, I've got you." I hauled him off the icy ground, into my arms, trying to wrap him in warmth. He was hurt, hypothermic, bleeding. Dying. I clutched him close, needing him to be okay. "Hold on, I'm here, hold on." All the times I'd saved him, nothing had hurt like this one.

His small hand scrunched my shirt at my back. "I don't… want to… die."

"You won't. I've got you. I'll always have you. You hear?"

Simon had managed to lift himself onto his knees and was crawling away, oblivious to the smears of dark blood he'd left behind. Then he dropped again and slumped against a tree, clutching at his gut. He saw me with Noah, and his face scrunched in disgusted confusion.

Maybe he'd die from the bullet in his guts. But I didn't have time for that.

I raised my gun a second time, aimed between his eyes. "Nobody hurts Noah King."

This time, the round punctured his forehead, smacked his head back against the tree, and left him slumped over, twitching.

"I've got you, Noah, hold on, all right? Don't fall sleep. Stay awake."

He mumbled something, but his eyes drooped. His soft breaths fluttered against my neck. Fuck, I needed to get him warm, fast.

"Better… dig… 'nother… hole," he whispered, maybe meaning for him?

Fuck that, Noah wasn't dying here. But Simon had. "Nah, let him rot."

He trembled in my arms, so small, when he'd always been larger than life before. I retraced the tracks in the snow, carried him into the cabin, kicked the door closed, and laid him by the fire. I had to warm him slowly. Too fast, and his body would go into shock.

He bled from a gunshot wound in the shoulder, but the round had gone clean through. If I got him warm, cleaned his wound, he'd be all right. I needed supplies, blankets, might need to stitch him… I shifted to stand and his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. He yanked me back down, eyes wide, pupils blown.

"Is my shirt… ruined?"

His shirt ?! I snorted. "Sorry, baby, your shirt ain't gonna make it."

"Fuck." He let his hand drop but managed a little tic of a smile. That smile told me all I needed to know.

Noah King was going to be all right.