Kacey headed toward Colt. She needed to touch him. Bring him back and save herself from the terror now crawling over her skin like scorpions.
“Don’t,” said Bear Den, clasping her arm and holding her back.
Colt made a feral sound between a snarl and a roar as his eyes were pinned on the place Bear Den touched Kacey.
“Let go,” said Kacey.
Bear Den’s hand dropped away. Kacey continued forward to Colt as he drew his pistol, holding it down and at his side. Behind her, she heard handguns leaving their plastic holsters. When she reached Colt, she took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his.
“I’m here, Colt. You’re safe. You’re home.”
His body relaxed and his breathing slowed. “Stay with me,” he said.
“It’ll be all right.”
“Don’t go with them.”
“I have to. I promised them, my friends, that I would send help. I have to go. Can Jake take you home?”
He nodded. The pistol slid from his fingers, thudding to the ground.
“All right. Wait for me. I’ll be right back.”
It was what he had said to her before he shipped out for boot camp. I’ll be right back. That had been nearly two years ago.
He shuddered and turned to Jake, who was already holding his brother’s abandoned handgun. The two brothers walked back along the line of cars to Jake’s police unit, which had been driven by Chief Wallace Tinnin. Jake helped Colt into the rear seat and then shut him in. Colt’s eyes darted about the closed compartment. What had happened to him? Kacey wondered. Jake hurried behind the wheel as Colt locked his fingers together behind his head and ducked like an airline passenger preparing for impact. The vehicle made a U-turn and sped away.
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