He has Rylee clutched in his arms, and his pistol is braced on her right temple. Ryan is standing across from them with blood gushing from a large gash above his right brow and his gun directed at a point between Keifer's eyebrows.
“Mommy,” Rylee cries, struggling to get out of her father’s clutches.
"It's okay, baby, it's okay," I assure her, crawling closer. My words are barely heard through the panic constricting my throat, but Rylee understands them. Not only do her tears stop, but so do the big shakes hampering her tiny body.
"Drop your weapon, or I'll shoot her," Keifer warns Ryan with his country twang on full display.
“No,” Ryan replies, shocking me with his calm, non-affected tone.
A madman has my baby at his mercy; how can he be so calm?
"Please don't," I beg when Keifer's anger gets the better of him. He digs the barrel of his gun so profoundly into Rylee's temple, fresh tears roll down her ashen cheeks.
“Do you want your daughter to die, Savannah?! Do you want her blood on your hands?!” Keifer asks, glaring at me like I’m a piece of shit under his shoe.
“No,” I reply, shaking my head so fiercely my brain rattles in my skull. “Just let her go, Keifer, please.”
My plea reveals what Ryan already knew. He is facing my demon head on.
“Then tell him to lower his gun.” Keifer’s demand is so loud I wouldn’t be shocked to discover half the block heard it.
My eyes bounce between Ryan and Keifer as my mind scrambles for a response. I know Ryan would never place Rylee’s life at risk, but trust has been an issue for me all of my adult life.
My heart wallops into my ribs when I lock my eyes with Ryan and demand, “Please lower your gun.”
“No, Savannah. I can take him out. He’ll be dead before his finger gets near the trigger.”
As if bombarded with stupidity from Ryan’s pledge, Keifer’s index finger curls around the trigger of his gun before he slowly inches it back. He compresses it until it is halfway cocked.
“No, no, please no,” I beg with tears streaming down my face. “She’s your daughter too, Keifer. Do you really want to kill your own blood?”
“Yes, she is my daughter, yet you still took her away from me!” he roars, sending spit flying out of his mouth.
“Mommy,” Rylee cries, her voice as broken as my heart feels.
Keifer clutches her more firmly, stealing the rest of her words with a tight compression.
“It’s okay, baby. You’ll be okay, I promise.”
After assuring her she is safe with just my eyes, I raise them to Keifer. I can hear Ryan continuously pleading with him to stand down, but I can’t make out all the words he is saying. The image of my baby being held captive by the man I fear more than anyone isn’t just affecting my hearing, it is threatening my very sanity.
“Please, Keifer. I’ll do anything you want, just let her go. She didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I stole her from you. I kept her hidden. If you want to blame anyone, blame me.”
Keifer’s finger remains clamped on the trigger, but the cleft between his brows is nowhere near as deep. I’m getting through to him.
“You don’t want Rylee; you’ve never wanted kids. But you want me.” His eyes snap to mine during my last sentence.
I hold my hands against my thudding chest. Its mad beat triples when I ask, “Do you still want me, Keifer? Am I still what you need?”
“Savannah, don’t,” Ryan warns, recognizing what I am doing. His voice relays he isn’t happy about my decision, but he also understands nothing is above me when it comes to protecting Rylee.
When Keifer’s glassy brown gaze answers my question on his behalf, I say, “Let Rylee go, then we can get out of here.”
Ryan’s thighs stiffen as he tightens his grip on the butt on his gun. If my plan works out as I am hoping, the instant Keifer releases Rylee from his grip, Ryan will pounce.
Unfortunately Keifer is as smart as he is violent. “Disarm him first.” He nudges his head to Ryan.
“No,” Ryan replies, his response more for me than Keifer. “This is your last warning, I will shoot you if you do not heed my caution. This isnota negotiation.”
