Page 153 of Sheltering You

“A Molotov cocktail?”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. The guy launched it through the hole created by the explosion, and it lit the northeast room, where Summer was, then rolled into the hallway and the room across, where Camilla was.”

Derrick imagined the horrifying scene.

“Jeremy grabbed one of the fire extinguishers and put it out. Those rooms will need to be rebuilt, but Jeremy kept the fire from spreading and got Summer and his mom out of there. By then, I guess Bryan had taken care of that…person.” Mom’s lips pinched, though with the thought of her son killing a man or the thought of a firebomb aimed at her family, Derrick wasn’t sure. He’d guess the second.

“But you think Summer’s all right?”

“Dad said so, and he is a doctor.” She gave Derrick a don’t ask silly questions look. “Anyway, after that, the rest of the terrorists ran. At least that’s what Bryan told me. What happened with you guys?”

“We’ll tell you everything, soon.” Derrick turned to check on Jasmine. She was sitting at one of the game tables near the back door with her sister, safe and unhurt.

Michael had come in and was on the phone a few feet away. Catching Derrick’s eye, he held up a hold-on finger, spoke into the cell phone, then shoved it in his pocket.

“It is over, right?” Derrick walked toward him. “Qasim’s men are gone?”

“We think so, but Grant and I will sweep the woods to make sure.”

“I’ll go with you. Summer was hurt.”

Michael’s brows lowered. “How bad?”

“Dad’s with her.”

Mom had come up behind Derrick. “She has a little bump on the head, but there’s no reason to believe the baby’s been harmed. Is it safe to go back upstairs?” At Michael’s nod, she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Who needs coffee?”

A chorus of I dos and Yes, pleases came from the room.

And then Levi popped in with, “Can I have a donut, Nana? I’m starved.”

Derrick wasn’t the only one to chuckle, and it felt good.

Good to laugh. Good to breathe.

It was over. Somehow, it was really and truly over.

The next few hours were a whirlwind.

Derrick and Michael swept the woods for terrorists and found a handful of wounded men who hadn’t made it back to the boats to escape. The enemies were disarmed, given medical attention—Daniel was brought in for that—and then turned over to the police, who showed up about thirty minutes after all the excitement was over.

The police had alerted the fire department, who’d sent someone over from the mainland to ensure the fire was completely out.

Except for Levi, every member of the Wright family was questioned about what happened—not shocking, considering the number of dead bodies. But they’d been attacked. It wasn’t as if Khalid’s men had given the Wrights any choice but to defend themselves.

When Michael’s team landed at the dock a couple of hours after the police, flashing IDs and dropping names—it didn’t hurt that they worked directly for the president—the local cops stepped aside.

Finally, after all the questions were answered and everyone felt certain the island was safe from imminent terror threats, Derrick helped Daniel, Jeremy, and Sam close up the hole in the second story and board up all the broken windows.

Perched on an aluminum ladder leaning against the exterior wall, Derrick nailed a piece of plywood securely to a window frame, trying not to think about the stench that carried from inside. Charred wood, of course. Ammonia from the fire extinguishers. And a sharp, pungent odor produced by all the other stuff that’d burned. And the flash-bangs.

Would they ever get the stink out?

He hadn’t gone upstairs inside the house, but the view from the ladder was enough to give him a sense of what it’d been like.

A bomb.

Someone had bombed his family’s vacation home. And then hurled a Molotov cocktail through it.