Not one of those experiences compared to the limb-shaking, heart-seizing terror I experienced when Hammer forced that gun into Mim’s ribs. I froze. Paralyzed.
Mim’s wide, tear-rimmed eyes stayed focused on Dane, while I stared at her, the terrified little girl, and silently willed her to stay still. To stay calm.
Dane, although his muscles tensed against mine, kept his voice low and steady, his gaze narrowed on Hammer.
“What’s happening, Hammer.”
“I want the necklace.”
“What fucking necklace?” Dane asked through gritted teeth.
“The necklace her mama gave her to wear.”
“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ ’bout, brother.”
Hammer wrapped an arm around Mim, pulling her closer to his side, and bent, lowering his mouth to her ear. “She knows what I’m talking about, don’t you, doll?”
Mim flinched and then shrank, but never tore her gaze from Dane.
Hammer continued. “Where’s that necklace, little doll? The one your mama gave you to keep safe?” He fisted her hair, then yanked, exposing her bare neck. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”
The tears she’d been fighting spilled down her cheeks, her face scrunching. Still, she stared at Dane. Her safe place.
“Hammer.” Dane’s voice remained impossibly calm, drawing attention away from my niece. “She wore a necklace the day we pulled her out of that pit. I haven’t seen it in weeks. But I’ll help you find the damn thing. Just let the ladies walk outta here.”
“Naw. I’ll take the little one with me. She can show me where that key is hidden.” The sick bastard kissed the top of Mim’s head. “We’ll have fun together. Make a game of it, right, little bitch?”
Dane’s thigh twitched against mine. “You’re not leaving with the girl. You wanna shoot her? Shoot her. She’s better off dead than with a piece of shit like you.” He leaned forward, challenging. “But you sure as hell will not walk out that door with the kid.”
“Aw, Trailer. You ain’t foolin’ no one. You won’t let me shoot this little princess. Any jackass can see you got a thing for this baby girl. After all, she looks exactly like that cousin of yours, the one you couldn’t save.” He made a tsk sound, shaking his head. “Sweet piece-a-pussy, that Addy. Real tomcat. I mean, take a look. Same hair color. Same damn freckles. Same sweet, fuck me lips.”
His sinister smile sparked a violent shiver, and sent a hellacious wave of nausea through me, every muscle in my body clamping tight as I fought to remain seated.
Until the bastard brushed a thumb under Mim’s bottom lip. I lost all control, throwing myself over the table, screaming, “Get off her!” at the same time Mim opened her mouth and bit down on his appendage, hard enough to make him howl.
The second Hammer flinched, Mim slid under the table. Dane attacked, and fast as a blink, the men were tangled on the ground, tables and chairs flying. Somebody screamed. I reached down for Mim, but she was gone.
Pinned between the bench seat and table, and two brawling men, I had nowhere to move, but Mim managed to crawl away, scrambling toward the kitchen.
“Mim!” I yelled, but she pushed to her feet, escaping behind the counter.
“The fuck, Dane?” Tango burst through the swinging doors and jumped in to stop the fight, grabbing Dane by his nape, slamming a palm into Hammer’s chest, unaware of the weapon, clueless to the danger.
An ear-shattering crack split the air, and I slammed my hands against my ears, against the pain, my body going ice cold. Dane crumpled, releasing his hold on Hammer. Tango fell to his knees, covering his ears, and Hammer pushed to stand, gun aimed at Tango.
A dark pool of crimson puddled under Dane’s leg. My vision blurred, and I moved toward my fallen man. Hammer’s aim shifted to me, and I froze.
“Nobody fucking move.” Hammer staggered, his left eye swollen and bloody. “On the floor. All of you.” He gestured toward Charlie. “You, fat fucker in the kitchen, out here. Now.”
The man at the bar was the first to obey. He lay on his belly at Dane’s feet. I followed suit, then the waitress. Charlie moved slow and steady from his post, and last to comply was Tango, who seemed to weigh his options before conceding.
“Mim!” Hammer yelled, though his words sounded muffled, everything was muffled. “Time to go, little dolly. We have a necklace to find.”
Silence.
“Blondie, I know you’re back there. Bring me that little bitch, or all these people die.” He stepped toward the bar. “You want all of these people to die because of you?”
Still nothing, then again, I could barely hear a thing through the ringing in my ears.
“Okay!” he shouted, waving the pistol from head to head. “Who’s first?”
He pointed the gun at my face, flashing another sinister grin. “One.” He waited three heartbeats for a response.
“Two.” He swung his arm and pointed the muzzle at Charlie.
“Three.”
Slade burst through the doors, hands in the air, face pale but determined.
Hammer stepped over the waitress and aimed the weapon at Slade. “Where is she?”
Slade pursed her lips, and slowly shook her head. “You’re not laying a finger on those kids.”
Movement caught my attention out the window. Unfortunately, Hammer noticed as well.
Rocky and Mim ran hand in hand across the lot, heading toward the hill that led to Tango’s home.
Tango had seen them as well. He pushed to his feet and dove at the gun-wielding psychopath. Two seconds too late.
Hammer swung, striking Tango with the butt of his gun, then sprinted out the door, shouting, “Fucking cunts!”
That man would not touch my Mim. Adrenaline fueled my limbs and kick-started my brain. I gave chase.
The kids continued forward, their little legs no match for Hammer’s long strides. He gained ground.
“No! God, no!” I sprinted behind, pushing harder than I’d ever pushed. The wind rushed through my pounding ears, my heart protesting the pressure, and I focused ahead, forcing one foot after the other.
Up ahead, Rocky tripped and fell, but Mim continued up the hill.
Hammer stopped in his tracks. Ordered Mim to stop. Then aimed. Not at Mim, but the boy who was struggling to get back to his feet.
“I’ll shoot your little boyfriend, you don’t come back right now,” Hammer shouted.
Mim continued onward, now at the steepest part of the hill, practically clawing at the dirt to gain ground.
I reached Hammer, out of breath, my legs rubber, and when I reached for his arm, hoping to knock the gun from his hand, he swung. Blinding pain stuck my face, knocking me off my feet. I reached for his leg, desperate to stop him from reaching the kids.
The toe of his boot met my gut, the force knocking the breath from my lungs. My body curled in on itself, but not before he landed another kick, harder than the first. I couldn’t draw a breath. My stomach cramped, the sky swirling into a nauseating vortex above me.
He aimed again at the scrambling boy. I screamed, “Hammer! Please. Don’t!”
A blur dashed past and headed for Rocky. A crazed laugh erupted from Hammer. I watched, helpless, while he squeezed the trigger. Pop. Pop. The figure dropped.
No. No, no, no. I tried to stand, to do something, anything. I couldn’t get upright, my stomach protesting any movement.
Pop. Pop.
The earth spun in a kaleidoscope of color before fading to black.
# # #
“C’mon gorgeous. Wake up for me. Wake up, baby.”
My surroundings came back into focus. Blue sky. White clouds. A bloody beard. Sad eyes. Wetness. A sickening metallic scent.
Dane held me in his arms. Rocking. Rocking. Whispering, “Wake up. Please. Please. Please.”
“Dane.” I raised a heavy arm to touch his bloody face, curling my fingers into his beard. “Mim. Where’s Mim?”
Dane’s chest vibrated. He let out a half-
laugh, half-sob and kissed my cheek, pulling me closer to his hard, trembling body. “She’s fine. She’s right here.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer. Angry voices rumbled all around me.
“Trailer. You good? We gotta ghost,” came from somewhere behind me.
Dane stiffened. “Get outta here.” Rock. Rock. “Make him fucking suffer.”
“You have our word,” someone growled.
More shouting. Engines rumbled.
“What’s happening?” I tried to sit up, Dane’s hold tightening.
“Don’t move, gorgeous. Hold still for me, okay? You’re bleeding. Just don’t move. The ambulance is almost here.”
I raised my head to examine the damage, bile rising in my throat. My clothes were stained from the chest down. Blood. So much blood. Tears erupted, and I searched Dane’s face for explanation, though I already knew the cause. “The baby?”
“You’re gonna be fine,” he promised. “Everything’s fine.”
Liar.
Rock. Rock. Rock. His hold was fierce and steady, but cold. So cold.
Not our baby.
“Get those assholes up here!” he shouted, voice hoarse. “What’s taking so fucking long?”
Sadness consumed me, erupting into selfish sobs.
Mim dropped to her knees beside me, combing her fingers through my hair in soft strokes. I felt no pain. Only anguish.
Why wasn’t I in pain?
Dane pressed a kiss to my head. “They’re here, gorgeous. They’re gonna take you to the hospital. I’ll be right behind you.”
His face was so pale. His lids so heavy. His grip loosening.
His words slurred. “Mim. Go with your aunt.”
I was lifted out of his arms, laid down.
Our baby. Our baby. Our baby.
“Sir, you’ve been shot,” I heard someone say.
Who’d been shot?
Dane pushed a uniformed man out of the way. “She’s pregnant. Take care of her first.”
Two men surrounded Dane.
“Get them to the fucking hospital,” he roared, rising on shaky legs.
Only then did I notice the blood oozing from his chest. So much blood.
“Dane!” Oh God. “Dane!”
I needed to get to him. I needed to hold him. Why were they taking me away? He needed me.
Slade ran to my side, scooping Mim into her arms. “He’ll be fine, Moriah. They’ll meet us at the hospital. They’ll take good care of him.”
I stretched my neck, tried to call out, but my voice failed me, overcome by pure terror. And I watched, helpless, as Dane fell to the ground.
More uniformed workers surrounded him. I squeezed my eyes closed. I prayed. I prayed. I prayed.
All the way to the hospital, I prayed.
While they examined me.
When they told me there was no heartbeat.
While they scraped my uterine walls, I prayed.
When they moved me to a private room, and Mim crawled into the bed with me, we cried, and I prayed.
I wasn’t brave enough to ask about Dane. I’d lost our baby. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, too.
The sleeping girl in my arms kept me from falling apart.
God, I loved her.
# # #
“Hey.” Leticia caressed my wrist, rubbing a soothing circle with her thumb.
“Morning.” I rolled to my side, laying a hand over the dull ache in my abdomen. “How’s Mim?”
“She fine. Having breakfast with Slade and Rocky in the cafeteria.”
She moved to adjust something on the monitor above my head. “You’re okay to go home today. But if you feel like you need more time, the room is yours.” She leaned closer, a smirk highlighting her dimples. “Apparently, the Rossis have quite some pull here.”
Apparently, they did. My surroundings resembled a five-star hotel more than a hospital room. They’d even brought in a twin-sized bed so Mim could stay with me overnight.
A bitter question burned the back of my throat. I feared the answer, but the longer I waited, the greater my anxiety. I had to know the facts, so I could deal. And heal. And be whole for Mim.
“Is he alive?” The question burst out on a sob.
Leticia grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Yes.”
I’d never heard a more beautiful word.
“And he’s going to be fine. By some miracle, the bullet missed his heart and any vital arteries.”
Oh, God. Thank you. I nodded, swiping at my tears. “Does he know we lost the baby?”
Her own eyes welled. “He’s been in and out of surgery. But when he is conscious, his only concern is you.”
“I don’t know how to tell him.”
“There’s no easy way, I’m afraid.” She brushed a hair from my face and offered a heartwarming smile, those blue eyes comforting and bursting with motherly love. “But the good news is, you’re healthy, and there’s no reason the two of you can’t try again after you both have healed.”
Would Dane want that? Would he want me, still, after I’d lost the one thing binding us?
As if reading my thoughts, Lettie offered assurance. “He loves you. Anybody with half a mind can see that. The two of you will get through this. And you’ll be stronger because of it.”
Her words hit me hard in all the right places, giving me courage, dulling some of the pain. I couldn’t voice my thoughts, though, emotion balling in my throat like a lump of paste.
“You wanna see him?” Tango’s voice broke the silence. “I’ve got a sweet ride, and twenty minutes before the nurses hunt us down.” He stood in the doorway, hands on the back of a wheelchair, bandage above his right eye, devilish grin on his face.
My stomach lurched, nerves taking hold, but I managed to whisper, “Yes. God, yes.”
Leticia and Tango helped me into the chair, my legs rubber, my stomach a hot throbbing mess.
“I’ll go check on the kids.” Leticia gave my shoulder a squeeze. “See you in a bit.”
Tango led me down the hallway, hospital beeps and chatter filling the silence between us. Before we entered the elevator, he squatted at my feet. “I’m sorry about the baby.”
I only nodded, curling my lips between my teeth. I didn’t want to cry again. He cupped my cheek, kissed my forehead, and called the elevator to our floor.
When the doors sealed us in the small space, I asked, “What happened to Hammer?” I hoped he was dead.
“You remember anything?”
“No. Not really.” I remembered chasing after him. I remembered he’d pointed the gun at the kids.
Tango huffed. “He shot at Rocky. But Dane…” His voice broke. He cleared his throat. “Dane took the bullet for my son.”
“Oh God,” escaped my lips, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to hold back the sobs.
“The Slayers showed up. Hammer knew he was cornered, aimed the gun at his own head, but someone shot him in the leg, and took him down. They dragged him off before the police or ambulance arrived.”
I shivered. “Please tell me the kids didn’t witness that.”
Releasing a long breath, he said, “Mim had made it up the hill. Rocky was hot on her heels. They didn’t see a thing.”
Thank you, Jesus.
Another long silence before Tango asked, “What was he after?”
“Mim used to wear a necklace that her Mom had given her. But a few weeks ago, she took it off. I haven’t seen it since. He wanted the necklace. That’s all I know.”
Eyes narrowed, he stared right through me. “I had an unpleasant conversation with their president. Only thing I got out of him was that Hammer had dug himself an early grave. Turned on his brothers.”
Surprisingly, the hows and whys didn’t bother me, my only concern was that the right people were still breathing on the other end of the horrible ordeal.
The elevator doors opened. We cleared one hallway, then another, my nerves spiking with every room we passed.
<
br /> Tango stopped at number 411, and I started to tremble. He pushed me inside.
Dane was sitting up, his chest bare but bandaged, rising and falling in slow rhythmic pulses. He had an IV attached to his left arm. He looked peaceful, his eyes closed, jaw slack.
“I want what he’s having,” I joked, though feeling not an ounce of humor.
Tango kissed my forehead again. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Thank you.”
When the door clicked behind me, I wheeled closer to Dane, not trusting my legs to hold me. His hand was warm, a reminder that blood pumped through his precious veins. I kissed his fingers, one by one, then pressed his palm to my face, roughing the calluses over my skin, desperate for his touch.
“Are you mad at me?” came his gruff voice. My hero’s voice.
I couldn’t contain my joy, a garbled laugh escaping my chest. “How could I possibly be mad at you?”
He groaned, his head rolling to the side, his eyes peeling open. “I brought that piece of shit into your life.”
“You saved Rocky’s life.”
“I put you and Mim in danger.”
“You saved us.”
He stared, long and hard, eyes glassy, then whispered, “I love you.”
His proclamation slammed my chest, a sneak attack, battering my bruised heart. When I should’ve been celebrating, kissing him dizzy, giving him those very words back—I love you—I only avoided his gaze, staring at a smudge on the window.
“Moriah,” he rasped.
“I lost the baby.”
A sharp inhale. He reclaimed his hand. Swiped at his face.
Painful silence swelled between us, minutes passing with silent tears and sniffs.
“Are you mad at me?” I forced the words through gritted teeth.
“Moriah,” he sobbed. “Fuck. No. God, no.” He offered his hand again. “C’mere. I need to hold you.”
I pushed to my feet, crawled into his bed, and tucked into his uninjured side. Then I let the tears fall. His fell, too, wetting my hair. And there was something cathartic and healing, holding each other through our grief.
He fell asleep, his arms around me going slack, but I stayed in his bed, content to hear his heart beating. So thankful that I hadn’t lost him. So effin’ thankful.
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