“Oh my God, oh my God,” Mercy whispered, rocking Farrah, who was sobbing silently. “Did he hurt you?”

Farrah shook her head and clung to Mercy. Rafe had joined them, looking grim as André reappeared, a scowl on his face and Ephraim’s knife still embedded in his upper arm.

“Fucking sonofabitch,” Gideon swore as he got out of his SUV.

“Why didn’t you follow him?” André yelled, breathing hard. “He got away, for fuck’s sake.”

Gideon lifted the hood of the Suburban, shaking his head as he stared at the engine. “Because that bastard took my fucking spark plugs,” he shot back. “Fucking asshole.”

Rafe popped the Subaru’s hood. “Mine too,” he muttered once he’d checked. “I bet he disabled Erin’s Rover, too.” He checked the Range Rover’s engine, his shoulders sagging. “Motherfucker. We’re stranded here.”

André was now kneeling beside Farrah, and Mercy let her go so that André could hold her. Trembling, Mercy stood, took a few steps, then sank back into the snow when her legs gave out.

“André,” Mercy croaked out. “Your arm.” The knife sticking out of his biceps, all the blood in the snow . . . It felt like a bad horror movie. Except it’s real. “I’m trying to remember my first aid. Do we pull it out or not?”

Holding on to Farrah with his good arm, André gave the knife a disgusted glance. “Depends on how far away we are from help. If more than two hours, we yank it and pray. I’m fine at the moment. It hurts like a bitch, but I can deal.” He turned his attention back to Farrah, crooning comfort into her ear. “You’re okay. I love you.”

“Gideon!” Daisy shouted.

Mercy’s attention was yanked toward the hill, where Daisy and Sasha supported a pale Erin between them. Daisy waved a phone at them. “Molina’s sending backup.”

“Thank you,” Gideon called back. “Sat phone,” he explained before making his way to Erin and taking Daisy’s place when Sasha stubbornly refused to relinquish her hold.

Mercy forced herself to stand, meeting the others at the tailgate of Rafe’s Subaru, which he’d opened so that Erin could be lowered into the hatch. Sasha climbed in beside her, using the blankets and parkas to elevate Erin’s head and feet.

“She needs a hospital,” Sasha said quietly. “She’s lost a lot of blood and she’s still bleeding.”

“I’m right here,” Erin gritted through clenched teeth. “Not dead.”

“Hush,” Sasha admonished. “Let me help you. Rafe, where’s your damn first-aid kit?”

While Rafe got it for her, Mercy pulled the scarf from her neck and handed it to Sasha. “Wrap her leg. It’s no tourniquet, but it might help stop the bleeding.”

Sasha obeyed, her hands shaking. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” Truly nothing. With a nod, Mercy stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. All this pain, this . . . havoc was because of her. Because Ephraim wants me back. Leaning against the Subaru, she closed her eyes, feeling very helpless. Very alone.