Page 110 of Weston’s Treasure

“Fuck.”

“In three.” Nixon wasted no time counting them down.

Alec jacked the door open, Weston readied his weapon and stepped over the threshold. Then pain seared through him.

“Fuck!” he roared, as the burn of the bullet had him stumbling.

34

“What’s taking so long?” I asked no one in particular.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Takes time, girl,” Jameson’s voice rumbled. “Why don’t you go up and rest?”

“Rest? You think I can rest?” It had taken damn near everything inside of me not to shriek.

How the hell was I supposed to rest when Weston was off God knows where trying to find my dad?

As soon as we’d made it back to the farmhouse from the hospital, Weston had ushered me to the couch, McKenna, Kennedy, and Mandy had swarmed, and Weston had left me with them to go talk with the guys.

One hard look from Alec told me he was pissed beyond belief at me, punctuated by the way he’d stomped across the living room to join the man-huddle.

During that time, I couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but even if the guys hadn’t been speaking in hushed voices, I still wouldn’t have been able to hear over the rapid-fire questions the women were throwing at me.

Neither Kennedy nor McKenna seemed pissed. They looked more concerned than anything, sprinkled with a liberal amount of relief I was safe.

Jonny had shown up a few minutes after Weston, Nixon, Holden, Chasin, and Alec had left. He came straight to me, pulled me into an awkward hug—awkward because I barely knew the man—but there was no denying his concern had felt good.

Now Jameson, Jonny, and Zack were playing sentry while I paced the house, unable to get the vision of my dad beaten and bloody out of my head. To make matters worse, I was replaying the last time I saw him. The horrible stuff I said. And guilt was threatening to consume me.

I knew when I made the decision to call Weston, there was a chance I was killing my dad. I knew it and I still did it. Then all hell had broken loose and I’d almost gotten the team killed.

Jesus, what had I done?

“Silver?” Jameson turned me to face him. “You need to sit down, try to get some food in your belly, and calm down. If you can’t do that for yourself, then do it for the baby.”

And that was when it hit me. Shame hit me and my eyes closed. I’d been blessed with his perfect gift and already I was screwing it up—not taking care of it. Contrition surged through me, tearing at my insides.

“Trust Weston to take care of your dad,” Jameson continued. “I’ve been where you are. I’ve stood in your shoes when someone I loved was taken from me. You don’t think I was replaying every moment I had with Kennedy? The stupid shit I’d said to her when we were starting out. I was. I remembered it all.”

“How did you know that’s what I was doing?” I whispered.

“Because it’s written all over your face. Because I’ve been where you are. Because when you’ve been where you are right now, you never forget the fear. But, Silver, you need to take care of yourself and the baby. That’s your only job right now. Weston’s got the rest.”

“I’m so scared,” I admitted.

“Know that, too. But it’s only been three hours. They’ll be home soon.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we’re damn good at what we do. Because I trust my team. Because I know Weston will stop at nothing to take care of you.”

I nodded because I knew Jameson was right. About all of it. But the wait was killing me. Everything I could possibly think of that could go wrong was filtering through my mind, torturing me with what-ifs.

The door slammed open. Jameson moved quick, pushing me behind him, his big body shielding me before he relaxed and moved aside.

My breath caught in my throat, and my vision blurred as a bloodied Weston stalked across the room.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the red staining his shirt.