But then there’s a deafening roar. Something warm and wet splatters over my face. And I’m dragged out from under the motionless bear by my arm. Mal drops his shotgun, falls to his knees on the ground beside me, and starts ripping at my clothing. “Where are you hurt?” he shouts, clawing at my shirt with shaking hands. “Riley! Talk to me! Where are you hurt, baby?” I’ve never seen him like this. His eyes are wild. His face is white. He looks completely unhinged. Like a totally different person. A terrified person. Not at all like a man who thinks I’m nothing to him but a means to an end.
