44
Conor and I shuffled ahead of Richie out the front door into the yellow glow of the porch light. I bent down, reaching for the revolver in my ankle holster, and instantly felt Richie’s foot kicking me in the same place I’d been shot. Stars exploded in my vision as I tumbled down the steps, rolling down the hill until I collided with a tree. I struggled to breathe, despite dizziness and chest-crushing pain.
“Jinxie, you okay, love?” Conor sounded as though he was next to me.
I reached out but felt only the bark of the pine tree I’d collided with. “Oh . . . okay.” I dug deep and pulled myself shakily to my feet.
“Just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Richie stood five feet away in the darkness.
“Yeah, I’m funny that way.”
“Not so funny when you’re dead.” Richie pulled the cuffs out
