Page 71 of Perfection

She tried to move. “Hurts.”

“Take slow, deep breaths.” She did as he instructed.

“Better?”

“Yes, I… I think s-so,” she stuttered. “Why would anyone…shoot me? I don’t understand.”

“Well, you’re working on a cure for the virus. Someone might want to stop you. Or someone could blame you for whatever it is about the D Generation that allows the children to be vulnerable to the virus. Or some crazy Coder activist wants to make a statement. It could be any number of reasons.”

He listed the scenarios, but his gut told him whoever had released the virus was now targeting Kindra. It made sense. After all, she had effectively stopped the deaths by getting the children into cryo units. Did the perpetrator think she was the only one who could come up with a cure? Or was there another reason? Was this connected to Vi’s murder?

“Let’s get you inside,” he said.

She attempted to take a step, but her legs gave out. The only thing supporting her was his arm. She tried again and failed. Finally, he gathered her up with his arm as he slipped his other arm beneath her knees. “It may be a little while until you regain your strength,” he said, taking brisk strides toward the parking lot elevator.

As he walked, he kept a trained eye out for anything unusual. As soon as he got a chance—after he saw to Kindra’s safety—he’d check with Captain Avery to see what the parking garage surveillance cameras might reveal. Surely something must have been captured by the cameras.

To his surprise, she didn’t argue. She melted into his cradled arms with a drawn-out sigh. Thankfully, they didn’t pass anyone on their way to her apartment.

He wasn’t sure if she was aware of their progress, but she hadn’t said a word since he’d picked her up. He used his police ID to enter her apartment. Inside, he set her on the sofa. He heard splashing noises from down the hall and thought it must be Brianna’s bath time.

She winced. “Ugh, my back hurts.”

“Where?”

“Between my shoulder blades.”

His brow furrowed. She’d been shot in the arm, not the back. He sat down beside her. “Lean forward and let me take a look.”

She moved so her elbows rested on her knees and her head hung forward. He gently scrunched up her shirt, revealing her pretty pecan brown skin. His chest tightened. Inch by inch, he approached the center of her back. There, the flesh turned bright pink, and when he lifted the fabric even higher, the wound changed to a darker shade of vibrant reddish purple. Small blisters formed in the middle. “There’s a two-inch welt. You’re going to be sore for a few days, I’m afraid. We should get you medical attention.”

“No. I’ll be fine. Better than being dead.”

He eased her shirt back down. “Don’t joke about that.” He thought of Vi and how she’d often joked about thwarting death. His chest hurt. He missed her.

They both sat back, angling toward each other. “Do you think someone is after me because of my job?”

“Yes. They’re out to stop you.”

She gasped. “But he didn’t kill me.”

“A warning, perhaps.”

“Astrongwarning.” She inhaled too sharply and winced again.

“And since it occurred in your parking lot, I’m worried,” he admitted. “Whoever did this could get to you again far too easily.” He searched her face. Vi had lost her life in her own home, and they had yet to discover why someone had killed her. He swallowed, nervous about how Kindra would react to what he was about to propose. “I want you and Brianna to leave for a few days and stay somewhere else.”

“But where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere that isn’t your usual location. Somewhere I could watch over you. A hotel, the precinct’s safe house, my place.”

Her head snapped around and her eyes met his. The last idea seemed to shock her. He had to admit, he couldn’t believe he’d suggested it. At the same time, something primal about the idea appealed to him. “I doubt the shooter would know where I live or venture there.”

She stared at him as if he’d said the most outrageous thing. She pressed her lips together, seemingly speechless. She opened her mouth to speak, smiled uncomfortably, then said, “Do you think that’s the best solution? I’d hate to impose. Perhaps a hotel…”

It was a polite way to say no. But her reaction didn’t surprise or stop him. He pressed on. “You won’t be an imposition. It’s just me at my place, and I’m adaptable. But on second thought, the safe house is the best solution. It’s a condo near the lake and would be connected to police monitors.”

Her lips thinned. “I don’t know.”