40
Conor slipped out the back door, and I found Reggie sitting in the corner of the living room, watching the news coverage of the bombing. Much of it was speculation and updates of body counts. So far, eight were confirmed dead.
“Hey, sorry about the confusion earlier,” I said. “Conor’s a bit protective with all the craziness going on.”
“Man nearly kilt me. Pointed a g*n at me.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Last year, I had someone stalking me. People died. So when he found a stranger in my house, he went a little overboard.”
“I’ll say.” He stared at the TV as a reporter interviewed someone. “You down there when that explosion went off?”
“I was.” The euphoria I’d been riding evaporated as memories of the chaos returned. “White Nation set off the bomb after driving the crowd to
