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Chapter 82

“That was Tray,” Hellabeth said. “Cleaning up what the bombs didn’t take out.”

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Fury said.

“No, you won’t.” Hellabeth yanked her hand out from under Fury’s, and she grabbed him by the ear. “You will get the fuck out of here,” she said, shockingly calm and sure. “I will stay with Dennis. I will finish telling the cops what I know. They will find Tray. They will deal with him.”

“What if they don’t?” Fury asked.

“They will.” Hellabeth’s face contorted into an evil rendition of a smile. “He’s gut-shot too. He won’t get far.”

“How—”

“You know how.”

“You shot him?” Nathan gaped at Hellabeth, and he had to fight the urge to run away. He wanted to find a dark hole, hide in it, and stay there until further notice. The desire made him hate himself so much for being a coward that he wrenched his hands off the pavement and helped Fury hold in Dennis’s guts. They squished. Nathan wanted to puke. He didn’t.