??Check and see if Trey??s got a pulse,?? said Landon as he crept out onto the porch, his own weapon still drawn, in case the assailant reached for the gun again. Close enough to kick the gun away, Landon finally saw who the man was. Lewis Titus. Mother-fucking sack of shit. Lewis laid there, a bullet wound in his chest, eyes blinking and struggling to breathe. Landon picked up the gun, promptly turned his back on Lewis and darted back inside.
Now, the panic level was blossoming full force in Landon??s head. He jammed his own weapon in the back waistband of his jeans and dropped to his knees beside Trey.
??He has a pulse. He??s still breathing a little,?? whimpered Nina.