by J. E. Parker
“Good,” I replied, sliding out of the truck. “Because I’d hate to have to chase after you.” Winking at him, I slid out of the truck and yelled to Carissa, who was walking across the lot beside Heidi. “C, wait for me!”
Stopping in her tracks, she took her sister’s hand in hers and nodded in return. I’d just started to shut the truck door when Evan called out my name, drawing my attention back to him. “Hope, baby, wait.”
“Yeah?” I asked, turning to face him again.
He exhaled, and a smile stretched across his handsome face. “You looked beautiful today. I was proud as hell to have you on my arm. I may not say it often, but I hope like hell you realize how much I love you.”
And cue the butterflies.
Taking a shaky breath, I clasped my locket in my hand, and replied, “I do realize it.” Blowing him a kiss, I added, “And I love you too.”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply before turning on my heel and running toward Carissa. Her eyes twinkled as she looked from me to Evan. “I love seeing you two together. It makes my heart happy.”
Looking back at Evan, I blew him a kiss. “Want to know a secret, C?”
She nodded once. “Always.”
Stepping closer, I whispered, “For the first time in almost four years, I’m happy. Like, genuinely happy.”
And I meant it.
Every. Single. Word.
Over the last few weeks, I’d gone from being miserable to feeling like I was floating on cloud nine. It was amazing and breath taking all at once. The only problem was that, unbeknownst to me, my newfound happiness was only moments away from being shattered into a million little pieces.
And this time, the pain would be unbearable.
Forty
Hope
I walked into the gas station with Carissa and Heidi right on my heels.
After looking for the store clerk, whom I didn't see anywhere, I turned down the candy aisle. Grabbing a handful of Hershey's bars and a bag of powdered donuts-listen, I was hungry-I headed to the back of the store and grabbed a half gallon of chocolate milk out of the cooler.
I hadn't paid any attention to where Carissa and Heidi had gone-nor Clara or Grandmama for that matter-and the store was eerily quiet.
That probably would've been enough to set off warning bells for most people. For me, it wasn't. As embarrassing as it is to admit, book smart I am, street smart I am not...
Lord knows Ry and Evan teased me enough about that simple fact.
Humming to myself, I yanked a bottle of blue Gatorade from the second cooler and made my way to the front of the store where the rack of beef jerky and sunflower seeds hung on an end shelf near the checkout counter.
Still humming to myself, I was busy thumbing through the bags of jerky, trying to find a Teriyaki flavored one when Carissa whispered my name. "Hope."
I froze, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as I slowly looked up and toward the direction her voice-one which was laden with enough fear to suffocate an elephant-had come from.
Heart pounding, I just knew something was wrong.
Even though I hadn't figured out what was going on yet, I still had a feeling that whatever it was, was bad.
Like, really bad.
And that feeling? It turned out to be right.
"Oh, God." Terror, hot and heavy, ripped through me causing beads of sweat to break out along my forehead and spine as I locked eyes with a man who was holding a gun in his hand.
A gun that was aimed directly at Clara's chest.
No, no, no!
Mouth gaping, I dropped the milk and Gatorade to the floor by my feet. The milk carton burst open, sending splatters of chocolate milk flying all over my feet and legs. Ignoring it, I held up my left hand in a placating gesture. "Mister," I said, whisper-quiet, "please, put the gun down."
The man who was wearing tattered clothes and covered in filth from head-to-toe shook his head. Judging by the pink scars on his face, the yellowing of his eyes, and the scabbing on his arms and hands, it was evident that he was an addict.
But I didn't hold that against him.
I'm a social worker for goodness sake.
Still, seeing the condition he was in terrified me because he was obviously unstable. I would've bet money that he was likely robbing the store so he could get cash for his next fix.
That made him desperate.
And desperate people were dangerous.
When the man still didn't speak, I took a small step forward. Calling on my training, I forced my voice to remain steady. "Honey," I said, my tone gentle. “I don't know why you're doing this but if you'll tell me I can help you."
Remaining stock-still, he looked from me to Clara.
Please, please, please listen to me.
"Is it money that you need? If so, I have cash. I'll gladly give it to you, but I need you to put the gun down first. We wouldn't want to accidentally hurt anyone now would we?"
I was trying my best to remain calm while talking to him in a caring tone; I suspected I was failing miserably. All it took was one look at my shaking hands to see that I was anything but calm.
When the man still didn't speak or move, I took another small step forward.
"Stop, Hope," Clara whispered. "He'll shoot you."
He probably will.
With that thought I probably should've stopped walking. Yet, I didn't. Why? Because if the man standing in front of me was going to shoot anyone, it would be me.
After all, I was the only logical choice.
God, please let it be me.
Clara was a single mom to two amazing little boys who needed her, and I couldn't let anything happen to Heidi or Carissa. Those two were close-extremely so-and I wouldn't let them lose each other. I knew how it felt to lose a sibling that was the other half of your heart and I'd be danged if I let them experience that kind of pain.
For them, I'll gladly give my life.
I only had one regret about quite possibly laying my life down.
That regret? Leaving Evan.
Please let him understand.
I know other people in my shoes would've been worried about Mama too.
But I didn't.
Like Ryker, she was strong. She'd understand, and I knew for a fact if she were in my place, she wouldn't hesitate in sacrificing herself for the other woman standing in that room.
Mama was kind and selfless, but above all, she went from zero to peed off lioness when you messed with her family. And well, I wasn't her daughter for nothing.
Like mama, like daughter.
I pulled my shoulders back and took another step forward as every protective instinct I possessed roared to life. "Let her go," I said, my tone more forceful. "If you feel the need to point that gun at someone then point it at me."
"Hope," Carissa cried. "Stop."
I didn't stop.
I won't let Clara be hurt.
I won't let her be taken too early.
I won't let her be shot to death by a junkie.
I won't watch as her casket is lowered into the ground.
Determined to keep my family safe, I kept moving, inch by inch.
I hadn't been there to save Ryker, and the guilt had eaten away at me for over three years. But standing in that store, I was in the perfect position to save Clara, and that's precisely what I intended to do.
The man's hand began to shake as beads of sweat slid down his brow and over his cheek. Shifting his weight between his feet, his sunken eyes bounced between Clara and I. Ashen skin paling before my very eyes, I knew he was close to either running away or pulling the trigger.
I hoped it was the former, but I prepared myself for the latter.
If I die, I'll get to see Ryker and daddy again.
"Put the gun down," I said through gritted teeth. "Now."
The last word had barely left my lips when the bell above the door chimed, signaling someone's arrival.
Without having to look, I knew exactly who it was
too.
Evan.
For a brief moment, my eyes slid closed.
Stay strong, Hope. Don't waver now.
"Clara, don't move," Evan demanded. His voice was rougher, more stern than I'd ever heard it before. "Hope, baby, stay still."
I opened my eyes and saw him moving toward me out of my peripheral. "Man," he said, addressing the guy holding the gun. "You don't want to do this."
One look at Evan and the man began to shake.
Can't say I blame him.
A livid looking Evan was a terrifying sight.
"Stop, moving!" The man shouted at everyone in the room. His voice was so high-pitched, his words so rushed, that I barely understood him. He was quickly becoming unhinged. "Come any closer, and I'll shoot her!"
Evan stopped moving just as the bell above the door chimed again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kyle step inside. I couldn't see his face to gauge his reaction to what was happening, but I did see him clench one of his hands into a fist as he slowly moved toward Carissa and Heidi.
They're safe now, I thought. Kyle won't let them be hurt.
"You're not going to shoot anybody," Evan continued, his voice filled with authority. "Just put the gun down and walk out the door. Nobody will stop you."
The guy forced a laugh. "Yeah, right. We both know you're not going to let me walk out that door." He smiled, exposing a mouthful of decaying teeth. "Especially not after I've pointed a gun at your little girlfriend."
I didn't bother to tell the man that Clara wasn't Evan's girlfriend.
Doing so was pointless.
"Nah," the man said as his sweating hand began to shake even more. "The only way I'm going to get out of this is if I shoot every one of you." Raising his free hand, he cracked his neck. "The only problem I've got now is figuring out who needs to go first."
Desperation set in. "Put the gun down," I said one last time. "I'm begging you."
The man's eyes never left Evan as he replied, "Sorry, babe, I can't do that." At his words, I swear my heart stalled.
This can't be happening!
Tightening his jaw, the man looked at Clara. Acceptance flashed in her pretty green eyes as she realized the fate she was about to be handed. A fate that was not only unfair but also unjust.
A fate that I was going to stop; even if it killed me to do so.
A moment later, I watched in horror as the man raised his gun higher, aiming the barrel directly at Clara's face. Her chin trembled, and rivers of tears ran down her cheeks as she looked over at me. Beyond terrified, her entire body jerked as she whispered, "I love you," for what she thought would be the last time.
I had two words for this situation. Screw. This!
Adrenaline surging, I took a giant step forward. "No," I said quietly as I clenched my hands into tight fists. "I won't let you do this."
"Hope, stop!" Evan screamed.
I'm sorry, big guy, I mentally replied as Icharged.
Lunging forward, I'd only taken two steps when the man turned, aiming the gun at me. Normally, I would've been terrified to have a gun pointed at me, but right then, the only emotions I felt were anger and determination.
Save her! Only five more steps!
Truthfully, I wasn't sure what I intended to do once I reached the man. I just knew that I couldn't let him shoot Clara. I'd already lost chunks of my soul when daddy died, followed by Ryker.
I couldn't handle any more loss.
Enough was a-frickin-nough.
Evan's voice was the last thing I heard as the man pointed the gun at my heart and pulled the trigger. As clique as it may sound, the world around me slowed as one memory after another flashed before my eyes.
In the space of a heartbeat, I saw myself dancing with daddy in Mama's kitchen, and I watched as Ryker taught a younger me how to ride a bike around the backyard. I felt Brantley's arms me as he hugged me tight when I got my acceptance letter to Vandy, and I tasted Evan's lips on mine as he kissed me for the first time.
I smelled Maddie's perfume and saw Shelby's beautiful smile as she looked up at Anthony. And oh how my heart skipped when I glimpsed a peek at Grandmama's troublemaking grin, the very one she wore when she stirred up trouble. I remembered the feel of holding a broken and battered Clara as I promised her that I’d never let anyone harm her again. I’ll die first, I’d told her.
It’s a promise I was going to keep.
I heard Lucca's sweet laugh and felt Liam and Declan's arms wrap around my legs. I watched as Hendrix held Melody against his chest, his eyes filled with so much pride and love my heart nearly burst. I heard Ashley's sweet voice calling my name followed by Pop's booming laughter and Keith's quiet chuckle.
I smelled sweet little Isabella's strawberry shampoo and heard Carissa and Heidi's shy giggles. I saw Mama's beautiful face as she mouthed, the words, I love you, sugar pea, and I heard Evan's deep voice as he finally confessed his feelings. I love you, Hope, he said. Forever, beautiful girl.
And I love you too, I mentally replied.
A missed breath later, each beautiful memory dissipated like vapor as the bullet hit my chest with the force of a freight train. The hit was so hard that I spun around and stumbled. Searing hot pain ripped through me on impact, and I couldn't help but cry out.
Screams erupted around me as I fell to the ground. First to my knees and then to flat on my chest as Evan tackled me from behind. His smell, his touch, the feel of his body heat against mine; they would be my last memories.
Please keep him safe, I silently prayed. Keep them all safe.
To my left, gunshots rang out.
One. Pop.
Two. Pop.
Have I been hit again?
Briefly, I wondered why I didn’t feel any pain despite the gaping hole that I could feel on the left side of my chest, directly above my heart. The thought had just crossed my mind when I glimpsed the puddle of blood forming around me. A second later, my hearing began to dull and my fingertips began to tingle. Head spinning, my eyelids grew heavy as my hearing dulled.
This is it, I told myself. This is how it ends.
A third gunshot sounded. Pop!
Barely hanging on, I tried to focus my vision for just a second more to see if Clara was okay.
To my relief, she was.
But, unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for me.
Feeling myself begin to float away, one last thought crossed my mind.
That thought? This is the end of our forever.
Forty-One
Evan
Something is wrong.
That was the only thought running through my head as I climbed out of my truck and rounded the front end. None of the girls—Grandmama included—had come out of the store yet, and while that may not normally set off alarm bells in my head, that night it did.
“Kyle!” I yelled, moving toward him. “You have a gun in your truck?”
Call it instinct, call it training, whatever, but I had a bad feeling that I was about to walk into a fucked up situation and I didn’t want to go in unarmed. If I had a gun, I could eradicate the target faster and with more efficiency than if I had to attack with my bare hands. Though, I’d do whatever the hell I needed to in order to keep my ladies—even the Old Biddy—safe.
“What the fuck, Morgan?” Kyle barked, looking from me to the desolate-looking store. “What’s going on?”
Without answering him, I ran toward the door.
I don’t have time to explain.
Blood pressure spiking, I didn’t stop to look through the glass door before pulling it open and stepping inside the cool, air-conditioned building.
The eerie silence caused my adrenaline to surge.
Something is really fucking wrong.
Standing tall, I clenched my hands into fists at my sides and scanned the small store.
What I saw next made my heart stop.
Fucking Christ.
A man—a soon to be dead man—was standing near the back of the s
tore holding a .45 caliber pistol in one hand. A .45 which was aimed directly at Clara’s chest.
Panic welled up inside of me at the sight.
“Clara, don’t move,” I demanded as my eyes bounced to Hope, who was standing less than ten feet away, a half-gallon of busted milk lying at her feet. Eyes harder than steel, she looked absolutely livid. “Hope, baby, stay still.”
Heart in my throat, I took a step toward her, my eyes locked on the gunman. “Man,” I said to him, “you don’t want to do this.”
I took another step.
Chest heaving, the guy screamed back at me to stop moving.
I stopped even though every cell in my body screamed at me to charge him, to tackle him, to do something—anything—to get that gun out of his goddamn hand. If he pulled the trigger…
Fuck! I can’t even think about it!
It’s Iraq all over again!
“You’re not going to shoot anybody,” I said, gritting my back teeth. “Just put the gun down and walk out the door. Nobody will stop you.”
It was a fucking lie.
There was no way in hell I was going to let him out of that store. The minute he’d pointed a gun at Clara he’d sealed his fate.
That fate? An early death.
Disbelieving what I’d said, the man started to spout off about killing us all. Little did he know, I’d never let that happen. I’d willingly go to my grave before I let him hurt anybody else in that store.
Especially Hope.
Unlike Ryker and Amira, I won’t let her die.
Determined not to let this turn out like Baghdad, I took another step forward, fully intent on charging the son of a bitch. I was a big guy and if worst came to worst, I could take a couple shots to my chest or gut before I died. If I could just get him on the ground, I could permanently neutralize him.
It's almost over for you, asshole.
Just as I was about to take another step, Hope fisted her hands and whispered, “No, I won’t let you do this.”
One look at her beautiful face and I knew—I fucking knew—that she was about to do something incredibly stupid. “Hope, stop!” I screamed as she ran forward and lunged for the guy.