Best Friends (New Species #15)(3)



The phone rang again.

Answer, she silently pleaded.

“Who wants to get shot first? Move and you’re asking for it,” a second voice threatened. “I knew if we waited long enough, you bastards would show. You walk around in clothes pretending to be men—but you’re fucking animals.”

They weren’t interested in money from the diner. They were after the New Species.

The fifth ring worked, and a man’s voice came on the line. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

Mel found herself in a pickle. The men would hear her if she spoke, even whispering. She placed the phone on the floor and prayed the operator would be able to listen to the voices of the gunmen

“Don’t move,” the first guy with the high-pitched voice shouted. “Not a fucking muscle. I’ll blow your damn heads off.”

“We’re going to do it anyway…but who wants to be first?” The second man had a colder, calmer tone. It made Mel shudder.

Mel’s hands shook as she eased her fingers into the side pocket of her apron and wrapped them around the set of keys she kept there. She was terrified they’d jingle. She was also furious. Those men planned to shoot Mr. Blue Eyes.

She looked down and momentarily panicked when her mind blanked. It took a second to remember which key fit the cabinet to her left. She inserted it and turned the lock. It made a soft click but she hoped they couldn’t hear it when the second man started to list his issues with New Species. He’d embarked on a rant about how they were ruining the country, and how he’d become a hero for taking some of them off the face of the Earth.

Crazy bastard. She set the keys on the shelf and grabbed what was inside the cabinet. Her heart pounded a mile a minute. She was facing one of those life-changing moments that no one should ever have to.

Can I really do it? I’m going to die.

A gun went off on the other side of the counter—and time ran out.

Mel stopped thinking and just reacted.

She rose up to level Joel’s old shotgun at the first shooter her gaze locked onto, adjusting her arm in a jerky motion. She braced her legs and fired.

The armed man had been gripping his gun with both hands. The shotgun blast hit him in the side of his chest in the rib area. The impact threw him onto one of the empty tables. He rolled off it and hit the floor, the table crashing with him.

Mel still stumbled back from the kick of the heavy weapon but the first masked man spun her way. She pumped the old shotgun even as he fired at her.

It felt as if someone punched her upper arm near her shoulder, hard, but she managed to stay upright. She aimed the barrel at him just the way her papa had taught her and fired again. The shot nailed him mid chest since he’d turned her way. The impact flung him backward and he landed on the floor.

New Species moved fast, going after the two downed men. They tore the handguns away, pinning both men in place.

Shock held Mel frozen.

She’d just shot two men.

They weren’t hay bales piled in a stack with red paint mimicking a body outline.

Motion out of the corner of her eye had her shifting her gaze from the pile of bodies on the floor to something coming right at her. It was Mr. Blue Eyes. He’d jumped on top of the tables they’d combined, stomping right on plates and knocking over glasses. He leapt toward her when he reached the end.

He cleared the top of the counter and landed next to her. She turned her head to stare up at him as he took the shotgun from her hands. He flung it to the floor.

She knew she should say something but her mind refused to work. No words formed.

He darted a quick look down her body. “You’ve been shot.”

It took her a second to let his words sink in. She lowered her chin and glanced toward her shoulder. Bright red stained her white T-shirt near the side of her upper arm. The blood was dripping downward along her bared skin.

“Mel!” Mary yelled. “Oh my God!”

Mel glanced over and noticed Mary stood at least ten feet away, clutching her apron in a death grip. Her friend looked pale and terrified.

Mary took a step closer, glancing at the big man next to Mel before backing up. It was clear she was too afraid to come any closer.

Mel didn’t feel pain. It should hurt, right? Her arm just kind of throbbed as if it suddenly had its own heartbeat.

Mr. Blue Eyes put his hands on her waist. They were large, and she could feel the warmth of them through her thin work T-shirt. He turned her toward him more, and it made her stumble since she seemed suddenly unable to control her legs.

Mr. Blue Eyes looked at something over her shoulder. “Don’t. Stay back.” He looked down at Mel again and his grip tightened. “It’s going to be okay.”

I’m shot. I shot people. Real people. Not pesky vermin.

Mel was afraid to turn her head to see if either of the men still lived. She just stared deeply into Mr. Blue Eyes’ gaze. He held onto her. It was probably the only thing that kept her upright because she felt as if she might collapse as reality slowly sank in.

I shot people. Real people.

“How is she, Snow?” They were growled words from the other side of the room.

Mr. Blue Eyes didn’t look away from her. “She needs a doctor.”

Snow. That’s his name. She’d wondered for a long time but it had seemed rude to flat-out ask since it was a rule around town to treat visiting New Species as if they were royalty. Sheriff Cooper was known for being a crusty old bastard who was fond of the New Species, and he let everyone know not to mess with them in any way. That included asking questions. He said they got enough of that from the reporters that sometimes showed up in town.

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