I looked behind us to the smoking house with not many soft thoughts for my childhood home, but a shot of sadness at the realization that all mother's things would genuinely be gone rather than simply unreachable. I didn't have time to dwell on my sense of loss. And we needed to get away from the building before I had fresher losses to grieve.
“Leave her there, and let's get further away.” I looked up and saw the paramedics rushing toward us with stretchers.
“They can move her,” Claire murmured as she took my hand and led me away from the house. Mila followed, a step or two behind us.
“Yeah, they can.” I agreed. The eight paramedics rapidly approached us, and while we needed help, being trusting never served me. I pulled out the gun I snagged from Daniel and held it up. They all stopped, putting their hands up and looking at each other in fear and confusion.
“What's this?” Officer Barns asked as he jogged up behind the men and interrupted our standoff, “Mr. Sharp, is there a problem?” he didn't sound threatening or defensive, and I was so fucking tired I could barely hold my gun up.
“Are these your men?” I bit out, not sounding half as tough as I would have liked. I actually sounded more like I was about to fall over dead.
“They are. They’ll get you guys sorted out.”
I nodded, “Okay, please. Take care of them.”
I put the gun away, and without much pause, the paramedics got to work securing Mila and Claire to the gurneys. Another two went to the woman on the blanket, and in a few minutes, they were moving them toward the ambulances to treat them. The flames picked up intensity behind me, and the last pair of paramedics cautiously approached me.
“I can walk,” they nodded but looked at each other with concern. Of course, they didn't know that most of this wasn't my blood. I still wasn't entirely sure of our surroundings, and while I trusted Barns well enough, I didn't have cause to trust those men. Hell, none of these people knew my father was dead.
“What's happening?” I asked Barns as I limped my way over to the ambulance, where I would let them treat me when we arrived, provided everything seemed safe. On the plus side, I hadn't heard any more shots since we'd been outside.
“The fire department is on the way, and the shooting is over. When I got here, your men had taken out nearly all of David Sharp's men. There were a few casualties on your side, but not many.” I hoped Vick and James weren’t counted among that number.
“What about their allegiances?”
“They're all on Sharp's payroll, so they're being detained while waiting on the big boss' order on how to handle them.”
“They’re going to be waiting a long time for that.”
“Why’s that?”
“He's fucking dead.”
He didn't respond. Instead, he seemed to absorb and process the information silently. Hell, maybe he thought it wasn't true. At first, I hadn't either, but there was no waydear old dadwouldn't have shown his face by now.
I stayed on my feet as long as I could, making it to the ambulances and police cars before I fell on my ass, unable to keep myself up for a moment longer. The two paramedics who shadowed me now helped me up and into the ambulance. I insisted on taking off my shirt, and they cleaned the wounds.
“Do you know if James and Victor are okay?”
“I don't. I'm sorry.” Barns answered. He stood there, staring at the ground as I cursed the cleaning solution burning the fuck out of my wounds.
“I need to check on Claire.”
“Let them sort you out first, so you don't scare her!” Barns offered, and I sighed in acceptance.
“Stitch me up, and give me some saline,”
“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” one of the paramedics argued.
“Just do it,” officer Barns said. The man shrugged, and then the two set to work on my wounds. Those men were used to tending to wounds outside of their prescribed profession. They wiped on a numbing agent and began injecting me with lidocaine. The gashes weren'tallthat deep, and I wouldn't need surgery, but they were long. I did my best to hold still and not react as they worked. The numbing agent eliminated the worst of the pain but not the irritation.
“What is it, Barns?”
“What do you mean your father's dead?”
And so I told him everything I knew. He left a few minutes later.
They set up a saline drip, helping to counteract the blood loss. I felt like shit and could barely see straight, but I knew what I needed to do, and this wasthepivotal moment.