Controlling his breathing, he pushed the door the rest of the way and slid his free hand up the wall in search of the light switch. When his fingers brushed it, he flipped the switch, instantly illuminating the large space.
The air in his lungs froze from the sight before him.
Sophie was lying on the floor in a growing pool of blood. And she wasn’t moving.
“Sophia!”
Jason holstered his weapon and ran to her. His knees hit the plush carpet beside her still form, and he held his breath as he put two fingers to the side of her exposed neck.
There!
Her pulse felt weak, but it was there. With a quick assessment, he found the source of the blood—a bullet wound to her upper left arm.
Jesus, she’s been shot!
“Sophie?” He wrapped a hand around her wound and held on tight. “Baby, can you hear me?”
A soft moan was her only response.
“Sophia!” Jason sharpened his tone. “I need you to open your eyes.”
Her eyelashes began to flutter. After a long, agonizing moment, her brown eyes were staring back up into his.
“Jason?”
He wanted to cry with relief.
Thank you, God.“Just stay still, sweetheart.”
Using his free hand, he yanked out his phone and dialed the only Dallas detective he trusted to take on this case. The seconds it took for Eric West to pick up felt like hours.
“West.”
“It’s me.”
“Ryker? What’s up, man?”
“There’s been a shooting. I need your best people on it, including you.”
There was a pause and then, “You do know that’s not how this sort of thing works, right? You can’t just call and demand—”
“I need you on this one, Eric,” Jason cut the fucker off . “Consider it a personal favor.”
“So...you’ll owe me one? Damn.” The other man chuckled. “That’s a mighty tempting offer.”
Jason ground his teeth together. “Eric.”
“Wait.” The detective’s tone changed. “You’re serious?”
“As a fucking heart attack.”
Some papers shuffled around in the background. “What’s the address?”
Rattling off the address to Sophie’s house, Jason quickly added, “And send a bus.”
“Who’s the victim?”
“Sophia Ruiz.”