Someone wraps a coat around her shoulders.
"We should get her out of here," Pierre says. "What do you want to do with him?"
Reynard is kneeling in the snow, a gun at his temple. But he doesn't look cowed, his dark eyes locked on mine.
"I hate you, Mark," he spits.
"I say we kill him," Pierre adds. But Nicole wouldn't want that.
"We take him with us, give him to the cops," I say, scooping Nicole up in my arms. She's still shaking, but not as hard. I have enough warmth for the both of us.
"You sure you want to make that mistake twice?" Pierre asks, but I'm already walking away.
"Fine, lock him up somewhere," I say over my shoulder. "I'll deal with him later. Call an ambulance."
Because all that matters right now is getting Nicole safely away from here.
Nicole
Fuzzy white light gree
