Without delay, I hurried to Marko, kneeling at his level. He’d forced himself up in a sitting position and was gripping his shoulder with a wince. I grabbed at the small flashlight on the ground and aimed it at the blood oozing out of him.
“Fuck,” I cursed, pulling off my black sweater. I shoved his hand away and pressed it against the hole. My mind was going a million miles an hour. Where the hell was I going to get help now?
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he muttered, his face already breaking out in sweat.
“You’ve been fucking shot!” I hissed at him, my heart nearly crashing out of my chest at the fear of losing him.
“In the shoulder,” he replied calmly. “By a nine millimetre bullet. Whoop-de-fucking-do. Hasn’t been my first time.”
“I thought you were dead.”
He chuckled weakly, grimacing as he took over applying the pressure against his wound. “Yeah, I thought I was too. I got knocked back and my head hit the wall. I didn’t want to move in case he finished me off, and then I heard you talking to him about money and shit.”
I looked back at the man still lifelessly sprawled on the dirty ground.
“We gotta get out of here before he wakes up,” I said. “I’ll help you in the car.”
“Put the bags in first,” Marko responded.
“You sure? You don’t look great.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just getting over the shock.”
Suddenly alert, I swiftly grabbed the bags and took them out to the truck. Outside, I spotted a small, dinged up car. It was empty and as I approached the opened door, I spotted coke and unused needles on the front seat. Maggot had come here to get high.
I quickly tucked the bags of money into the backseat of the truck and raced back inside to help Marko. The second I opened the door, another gunshot erupted and I stopped, frozen solid to the ground.
What in the actual fuck?
I slowly inched to the room, relaxing when I saw Marko’s solid figure standing tall. Staring down at the floor, he tossed the gun down and covered his wound. I walked in cautiously and realized, the more I drew closer, what he had done. My stomach churned at the sight of the guy dead with a bullet through his head.
“I had to do it,” Marko said in a hushed tone, completely aware of my presence. “He saw your face. He knew who you were. I couldn’t risk something happening to you. He couldn’t wake up.”
I swallowed hard, tearing my gaze away from the body. I ran my hands through my hair, gripping the ends as I breathed in and out. I forced my eyes shut and blocked the emotions away. I was completely numb. I couldn’t think about this. I didn’t want to process it. Life had gotten too ugly for me.
Without saying a word, I helped Marko to the car. He was pale and in a lot of pain, but he was surprisingly holding up well. I returned to the scene and picked up the gun and anything else we’d left behind. I didn’t look at the body on my way out. I felt responsible for all of this, but I didn’t have time to be melodramatic about it. I pocketed the gun and made to leave when I accidentally kicked his phone that he’d dropped somewhere in the middle of our struggle.
Sighing, I picked it up, and when my finger touched the screen, it lit up. I halted immediately and saw the word “Boss” on the top of the screen and the call time beneath it… still going…
11:34… 11:35…11:36…
Hardly breathing, I slowly raised the phone to my ear and listened in on the line. It was quiet, but I could hear the ambient noise in the background – a dog barking in the distance and the slight squeak of a chair – confirming the caller was still on the other line.
The bastard had called him! I couldn’t even think when he could have done it, but he’d heard everything. And now I was really losing my shit, wondering if Marko and I had spoken each other’s names aloud in the last eleven minutes and fifty two seconds.
“I’m gonna find you,” the voice on the other end said. “Boy, I’m gonna find you and kill you. You just wait.”
I ended the call abruptly and slipped the phone in my pocket.
I needed to get the hell out of here. My nerves were shot to shit. I fisted my hands and tried to control my breathing, but my heart was stampeding inside my chest as the chilling words ran like a broken record in my head.
Calm down, Heath. Calm down and get out now.
My legs moved and I took off out of there.
“Do you need the hospital?” I asked Marko when I slipped into the driver’s seat.
Pained, he replied, “No. Isla… Isla will take care of me.”
Isla.
I eyed him resignedly. The last thing he needed was to see her. She’d crushed his heart, and now he expected help from her?
“Just go,” he told me, ignoring my disapproval. “She’s a nurse, man. I’m not doing this for other reasons. She can take care of me. It’s a flesh wound. She’ll clean it up and I’ll be on my way.”
Sceptical of that, I decided not to pursue the topic. There were other more dire things to think about. I kept my mouth shut most of the way, recapping the man’s voice on the other end of the line and Marko’s decision to just end a man’s life like it was as easy as flipping a switch. He had a lot more secrets than I realized.
“I did it for you,” he told me, reading me like a goddamn book, something no one has ever been able to do. “Heath… bro, it was for you. I’m not going to see another friend of mine murdered by a useless thug just because he saw your face. He would have killed you. Sold you out. I know it and you do too.”
I slowly nodded but didn’t reply.
“Don’t look at me any differently,” he stressed. “You knew this was a possibility. Stick to the plan, right?”
“Yeah…” I exhaled. “Now you sure Isla will help you? Because… the phone back there… that bastard called their Boss up and he heard everything.”
Marko’s face whipped in my direction. “What do you mean everything?”
“I mean the last eleven minutes. He’d dialled the number to tell him about me, but he hadn’t hit call until after. I guess it was around the time he heard you or something. I don’t know. But the point is, if he knows you’re hurt, he might send his guys out to ask around. Which means you need to hide away for a little while, until you heal up, and you need to make sure you can trust Isla.”