“It’ll be okay,” I whispered and nudged her toward the open door. “But only once we get Lyric away from these angry people.”
Nova’s timid stance hardened once she thought of protecting her daughter. Her big blue eyes flashed to me, and a tiny smile flashed across her lovely face. Once they were settled in the back seat, I signaled Goldie to get her ass in the SUV. My sister shook her head and angrily waved around her sliced-off braid.
Elle appeared at the front passenger door with Zodiac behind her.
“Take my son to his grandparents’ house,” Zodiac told me as I adjusted the front seat to give me leg room. “And protect his incubator.”
Despite his calm tone, Zodiac refused to show even a bit of softness toward Elle. That was how he kept his temper in check with eyes on us.
No matter how rational everyone was behaving right now, the clock was ticking on retribution. Tricky could either hand over his rogue members, or we’d assume their behavior was sanctioned by his club. Either way, blood needed to be spilt.
NOVA
Boone’s presence calmed me enough to fall into a weird stupor. My mind wandered. I started replaying what happened earlier, along with the shooting that nearly ended my life.
Noticing the way I trembled, Lyric held my hand in her lap as we drove home. Her bright eyes studied me.
“It’s okay, Mama,” Lyric whispered. “Shh. Don’t cry.”
I gave her a tight smile, but my head was back at the Baton Rouge grocery store. I still remembered the music playing over the loudspeaker. It was one of those pop country songs. Even now, I didn’t know the name of it, but I could still hear the melody in my head.
The girls were already in their booster seats. I heard them talking about “Bluey.” I’d nearly finished organizing the grocery bags when I heard the gunshot.
With my babies in mind, I attacked the gunman with a can from a nearby bag. I kept smashing him in the eye until he dropped his gun. I heard it go off again. My mind imagined the girls getting shot. That’s when I started hitting the man harder. His eye was bloody. He finally shoved me away and took off running.
My adrenaline spiraled as he fled. Suddenly, I was very aware of the pain and my blood-drenched shirt. My legs gave out. I heard the girls calling for me. Bystanders inched closer but seemed too afraid to help. Finally, a woman ran to me and applied pressure to my wound. I heard her yelling at people to call for an ambulance.
My hands had been shaking when I texted Dan and told him, “I think I’ve been shot.”
Everything went dark and quiet as soon as I hit send. I couldn’t hear the girls anymore. I imagined Dan arriving to save them. He would make everything better even if I were gone.
“I hate crying,” Elle said from the front seat, pulling me from my past. “My nose gets stuffed up, and my face looks bad. Why can’t I turn off this emotional crap?”
“You’re a human being cooking another human being,” Boone said, and his calm tone washed over me. “Your stuffed nose and blotchy face are temporary. Just let yourself cry.”
Hearing Boone speak shoved my bad memories back into the quiet place where they normally hid. I felt myself solidly in the present with Lyric holding my hand and the man I loved in control.
“When we get home,” Boone said, “you should take a shower and clean off. We’ll put Band-Aids on any injuries, even the ones on your butt.”
Lyric smiled at me. “I need a Band-Aid,” she insisted and showed me her hands. “They got hurt.”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” Lyric said, unable to think of a lie. “They have tiny cuts.”
“Skylar will be home soon. She can help us get bandaged up.”
Lyric nodded when she thought of her big sister joining us. We were so often the Three Musketeers. Skylar attending school had been jarring. Lyric and I could barely function for those first few weeks. Fortunately, our friends kept us busy.
Elle had been one of the people to distract us from missing Skylar. I reached into the front seat and patted her shoulder. She turned and smiled sadly at me.
“I didn’t realize those guys were our enemies,” she said in a small voice. “I thought they were just being assholes. I would have shot at them sooner if I knew they were dangerous like that.”
“This isn’t on you,” Boone said in a calm voice that I sensed hid his true feelings. “Tricky invited those jackasses into our town and his club. He gave them cover when they first started harassing you foxes. Today is all on Tricky, not you.”
When Elle didn’t respond, I sensed she was thinking about the shooting months ago. She felt tough most days, but pregnancy left her vulnerable.
Back in South Dakota, I’d been paranoid for the entire nine months I carried Skylar. Chris didn’t lash out randomly. I’d see a beating coming weeks ahead of time. On the day Chris was bound to lash out, I’d do my best to protect my belly whenever I was around him.
