Page 87 of Falcon

Cates went to answer when blood splattered my face. In disbelief, I gaped as Cates gazed at me.

“Whose is that?” I stupidly said.

Cates crumpled to the floor slowly.

“Cates!” I yelled as another bullet pinged close by.

“Die, you filthy redskin!” someone shouted. A truck sped away as bullets rained down.

Catching Cates, we hid behind a car as I checked for injuries. Damn, she had two. A shoulder wound that appeared to be a through-and-through. The second was more serious. Cates’s leg had been torn open, and I could see blood pumping from the bullet hole. Fuck, the artery had been hit. Cates blinked, looking surprised as I yanked my belt off and made a tourniquet, and tightened it around her leg.

“Hold on to that,” I ordered, giving Cates the end of it. I pulled my cell out and dialled emergency.

“Officer down!” I bellowed as it connected and shouted the address. More bullets were fired, and I guessed the shooter had come back. I crouched over Cates, protecting her. There was a squeal of tyres as the truck sped away, and I grabbed my gun.

“Cates, stay with me.”

“Put the phone to my mouth,” Cates ordered weakly. I did while keeping my head on a swivel.

“This is Sheriff Cates. I’ve been hit twice and need assistance. On scene is Falcon Blackelk; he is protecting me and not a suspect. I repeat, Falcon Blackelk is assisting me and is not the shooter. The suspects are Dawson Beauregard and Rawson Beauregard. I saw them clearly as they shot me. Do not arrest Falcon Blackelk. He was the intended victim.”

A screech of brakes echoed down the street, and two sheriff’s SUVs came speeding down the road. Cates was still giving the vehicle description, and I raced into the road.

“They went that way!” I bellowed to the second as Farell jumped out of the first. He waved to the deputy, who shot off.

“What the hell happened?” Farell demanded. “Fuck, Cates!” he snapped as her eyes rolled up. Her head bounced off the pavement as a crowd formed. Two paramedics exited the ambulance that had arrived. They rushed over as Farell snapped orders into his radio. I stared at my hands, covered in the sheriff’s blood.

Cates had been shot, but the bullets had been meant for me. She was injured because of me. Guilt swamped me. The Beauregards had aimed and missed, but they’d taken out an innocent. The family needed exterminating, like the rodents they were. Around us, the crowd began talking amongst themselves as they stared at Cates. Mrs Maple forced her way through and took my arm.

“Falcon, come with me.”

“Mrs Maple, I’m fine,” I replied, but she kept on tugging.

“Falcon!” she snapped in the tone elderly women use when berating someone younger and with little sense. I obeyed as Mrs Bunton appeared and grabbed my hand. Together they led me across the road and into the diner.

“Julia, a hot sweet tea and a coffee and cake,” Mrs Maple ordered.

“Fetch some cloths so Falcon can clean himself up,” Mrs Bunton also demanded.

“Ladies, I’m fine. Sadly, this isn’t the first attack I’ve seen. It won’t be the last either,” I muttered.

“Criminals!” a familiar voice spat, and I sighed.

“Skye, I don’t need your fuckin’ bullshit!” I said loudly.

Skye stared with pure hatred. “This is on you. Shooting in the streets, you’re lowering our standard of living.”

I was straight out of my chair, but Mrs Maple got there before me.

“Skye Golding, you really don’t learn your lesson, do you, my dear? You’ve lost your job, apartment and car so far. You’re already living back with your parents. I would think that you would stop the slander and hatred. Things can always get worse.

“This isn’t on Falcon or his club, but this town for allowing the Beauregards to bully it for so long. Those simpletons believe they’re above the law, and everyone encouraged that belief by being terrified of those uneducated thugs!” Mrs Maple raised an eyebrow, and Skye glowered.

“While you refuse to learn a lesson, Skye, you won’t get another job, dear. Develop some humility. Now move along, Skye; this town has enough hate,” Mrs Bunton ordered.

Skye, clearly beside herself with rage, strutted out, giving me the dirtiest look in her arsenal. Yeah, someone still needed an attitude adjustment.

“How is Sheriff Cates?” Mrs Bunton asked.