Chapter Sixteen

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I held the handkerchief to my shoulder and shifted in the passenger seat of Kyle's truck. My arm was throbbing, but I couldn't focus on that. Right now I had to get back to Collinsville for this conference. I would deal with the bullet hole in my arm later.

Beside me, Kyle gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "I can't believe you talked me into this." He grumbled as he checked the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have told me I wasn't going. You ought to know by now I don't take kindly to being told what to do."

"I'm just trying to help you, you know that."

"These kids are gone, Walker. And more lives are on the line. Why don't you focus on that?"

"How about we change the subject?" Kyle suggested. "I don't want to argue the entire way. I'm stressed out enough as it is."

A pang of guilt struck my heart. The poor guy was only trying to help. I needed to cut him some slack.

"I'm sorry I upset you. But why on earth is it stressing you out this much?"

Kyle pressed the brake as we approached a stop sign. "Why? You can't be serious." He turned in his seat to look at me. "You came this close to getting your head blown off. How could I not be?"

I didn't respond. Instead, I clutched my wound tighter and laid my head on the headrest. "So have you come up with any more theories on the murders?"

"No. I've been racking my brain, but I can't figure it out. You?"

"Nope. From the looks of it, I've been more of a hindrance than a help. The task force might have been better off if that bullet had gone through my heart."

"Don't be ridiculous. We need you, Taylor. I'm more convinced than ever you're the key to all this."

I bit my lip. I was beginning to think he was right. Drawing my phone from my pocket, I looked down at that text. You should have stopped investigating when you had the chance. Why did this man want me dead so badly? "Hey, Walker?"

"Yeah?" Kyle didn't take his eyes off the road.

"I'm about to tell you something, but I don't want you to overreact, okay?"

"What is it?" Concern overshowed his handsome features. "Are you feeling worse?"

"No, it's not that. I...I just wanted to tell you something that happened right before I was shot."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Well, I was in a booth at Sonic when everything went down. I was waiting on my order when I got a text. It...it was from the shooter. I'll let you read it when we get to..."

Before I could finish my sentence, Kyle pulled onto the side of the road. He parked, yanking my phone from my grip. His blue eyes widened as he read the text that was intended for my eyes only.

"Justice," He handed my phone back to me. "We have to share this with the task force."

"I know, but if Anderson catches wind of the fact that I didn't let the paramedics check me out, he'll kill me, and I'm not exactly using kill as a figure of speech here. So I was thinking...maybe we could tell them that the bullet missed me."

"I'm sorry, let me make sure I'm hearing you correctly: are you asking me to lie to our boss? About you nearly being murdered?"

"I guess that's one way to put it." I shrugged.

Kyle sighed. "Justice, I can't do that. I'm a Christian, remember? If he directly asks me, I can't lie to him. But unless he heard it on the scanner like I did, I doubt he even knows. Just leave me out of it, and I won't tell anyone. But honestly I don't know how you plan on hiding this. You're pale as a sheet and your shirt is covered in blood. Besides that, I doubt you'll be able to walk into the building by yourself. No offense, but you look pretty weak right now."

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