The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,240

I come down the other side. But I just keep sinking and sinking.

And sinking.

Chapter Forty-Three

Cass

When I step inside the upstairs bedroom, my mind balks at what I see. So while I’m still pointing my gun, I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to be shooting at.

Shock makes my brain slow as fuck as I try to work through it.

There’s a thick trail of blood leading from the passage outside into the bedroom.

A kid’s bedroom.

The one from the video. Even still has the same furniture, except some of it’s been moved around and the paint is faded.

The blood leads to a woman propped up all awkward against the side of the bed like she’s attempting an advanced yoga pose.

She’s a suspect. Definitely.

Then there’s the big dude on the bed. But he’s taking a little nap. Fuck knows why he decided to take his dick out first, but I’m sure my brain will get to that in just a sec.

Then I see her.

My little Trinity.

And then the gun pointed at her beautiful face. My finger squeezes the trigger without bothering to get me up to speed first.

Trinity recoils when the woman’s head goes splat inches from her face.

The woman—kinda dead looking now, especially with the hole in the back of her head—slides down and sprawls on the carpet.

Trinity looks like she just got done auditioning for Carrie, and they made her do the scene with the bucket of pig’s blood.

But then Rube’s in front of me, and all I see is his back as he charges the bed.

He grabs the guy off of her and tosses him to the floor like a sack of rubbish. He goes to lift Trinity, but I manage to dart forward and catch his arm.

I shove my pistol against his chest.

If I could have spoken, I’d have told him to back off with his big fucking hulk hands so he doesn’t break her. But my chest’s all clogged up with panic.

Trinity’s eyes flutter. Her blood is everywhere. But somehow, she’s still got some left. It wells out of the crater in her chest, and then disappears into the already blood-soaked fabric of her dress.

I smooth her skirt down her legs as I study the wound.

I’m the furthest thing from a paramedic, but Apollo and I were the fixer-uppers back in the basement. I know a hole like that can’t keep pissing out blood, or else Trinity’s going to run dry.

The sudden high-pitched whine in my ears tries to compete with my pounding heart. And there’s more noise on top of that. But I have no time to listen to any of that. I have to keep Trinity’s blood inside.

I slap the flat of my hand over the wound and press.

Hard.

Her pained groan goes through me like a fork through the heart. But I can’t let up. When it starts seeping through my fingers, I grit my teeth and I put my knee on her.

Her whimper sounds exactly like the kind a kitten would make while I’m crushing it between my bare hands.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Rube, call an ambulance.”

But he doesn’t answer.

At first, I don’t know why. And then I hear it.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

I drag my head around.

My eyes shut on their own.

Christ.

Jesus fucking Christ. That is not how you use a gun.

“Rube.” I swallow down bile. “Rube!”

Thud.

… . . .

Thud.

I retch anyway. “Rube, Christ, call the fucking ambulance!”

Rube’s knees creak as he stands. He lets out a blustery breath, sounding more animal than human. Something falls to the carpet, and I can only assume it’s the gun he was using to cave in the man’s skull.

I’m not going to be able to sleep for a week.

I keep my eyes closed until I’m facing Trinity again, and only then dare open them.

I think the bleeding has stopped.

Dear God, let the bleeding have stopped.

But she’s passed out, and that’s not good.

“Trin? Baby girl. Wake up.”

“She’s been shot,” comes Rube’s voice.

My skin goes cold. He’s not even out of breath. He sounds…

Like he always does.

Maybe even a touch calmer than usual.

Shock, that’s all. He’s obviously in shock. Fuck, I’m in shock.

But I’m keeping her blood in, and that’s all that matters.

Rube doesn’t matter right now. What he was doing to the dead guy over there, that doesn’t matter either.

My stomach convulses.

Nope. Keeping my puke in.

“I’m not sure of the address. Hold on.” I only hear Rube’s footsteps when he reaches the tiles out in the hall.

“Apollo!”

I jerk at his bellow.

“What’s the address?”

2142 Maude Street, Trinity whispers.

My eyes fly open. But those