that’s when I see the folder. The single folder that I’ve missed again and again. It was hidden so deeply in his shit that I skimmed past it.
Can this be it?
I take a deep breath and double click on the folder. The images are small, hard to make out as I hover over one, unsure if I can take this step. Do I want to know? I feel like a part of me has always suspected it, but to know… should I know?
I click on the photo and the computer takes a moment to open it. It’s not like the computer my father bought me that allows me to seamlessly move through things. This one’s old, and it’s chugging. But the moment the photo opens I reel back.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I bury my head in my hands.
Breathe. Deep breath. Deep breath.
It’s okay. It’s okay.
When I glance up again, I see her face. I see her lifeless eyes and I know… I fucking know that she’s dead because of me.
I killed another one.
Twenty-Four
“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing Shepherd has slowed down some.
“I’m good. Just listening,” he says, but I’m not sure that’s what’s happening. Blood is leaking through the bandage and I know that we need to get him to a doctor or the hospital. But will Tony or my father’s men instantly find him then?
“We’re almost to the next spot.”
“Let’s just take a few minutes of a break,” he says as he sinks to the ground, pulling me with him since his hand is still on mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I hate seeing him like this. I hate that he’s hurt and we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere with no one to help. “Shepherd, I need to get you to a hospital.”
“Why? So I can die faster? You know they’ll just kill me before we can get away. I wouldn’t even be surprised if your father knows you’re with me and has a warrant for my arrest. I’m just a bit loopy because of the pain pill. I shouldn’t have taken it. I didn’t know it’d make me this loopy. Right now, I don’t think I could shoot a tree and we’re surrounded by them.”
That’s not good. “I can’t shoot a tree on a good day.”
He gives me one of his confident smiles. “We’ll be okay.”
I wait a few minutes, but I’m anxious to keep going. Our plan was to get to the secluded spot to stay hidden, and it’s getting dark and we probably still have another mile to go. “Can I carry you?”
He waves me off. “I can walk,” he says.
I kneel and grab his good arm, tugging him toward me, but he remains unmovable. “Shepherd.”
He tries waving me off again. “I’m fine.”
“Can you rely on me for once?” I ask as I realize what this is. “Don’t you know how much I rely on you? For literally everything. To keep me safe, to know what to do, to know how to do it, everything. Just… rely on me for once. We have supplies there that could help you feel better.”
He takes a deep breath and reaches out to me. I grab onto his arm and tug him against me before grabbing his legs and hoisting him up. Thankfully, he doesn’t weigh so much that I can’t carry him, so I’m able to hang on to him as I walk.
When I start, he’s clinging on to me, but the longer I walk, the slacker his arm gets. It’s less than a mile at this point, but my anxiety is escalating by the minute. And he feels so heavy that my arms are burning.
“Shepherd?” I try to turn my head to look at him, but he has his head tucked against my neck. No, no, no. Is he going to die? “Shepherd!” I practically shout, having forgotten all about keeping ourselves hidden and protected.
He jumps and nearly knocks me off balance. “What the fuck?”
“You weren’t answering.”
“I heard you, though. What’s wrong?”
“I need to get you to someone with medical knowledge so they can help. Shepherd, this isn’t worth you dying.”
“Killian, will you please listen to me? I don’t know what you think will happen when we hit the hospital. If Tony’s men don’t find us, then the police will. You’ll be taken back to your father and I’ll likely be arrested. What then? I go rot in prison and you get locked up with your father? I’d rather die. I’ll be fine. The drugs are