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My past and present blurred so thoroughly that I couldn’t make sense of any of it. When the car lurched to a stop, I was too disoriented to think. I just knew I had to save her.
“Mama,pleasedon’t die.” I clawed at my seat belt, tears streaming down my cheeks and my breaths puffing in shallow, frantic bursts. “Hold on, Mama. I’m coming. I’m coming.” I couldn’t get the fucking seat belt off. My fingers flailed and shook, unable to figure out the release, adding to my panic.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t see or breathe, and I didn’t know what was happening.
“Emy, baby. Calm down.” Two large hands clasped either side of my face and forced me to turn. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. You’re here with me. I’ve got you.” Crystal clear blue eyes. Conner.
Not my mama.
My breathing slowed as I slipped back into reality. I was riding with Conner, and our car had been hit, but we were okay.
He wiped my cheeks with his rough thumbs, his eyes burning deep into mine. “I need you to calm down, Noemi. This isn’t over yet,” he said softly but urgently.
I tried to cut my eyes to the back of the car, but he kept my face directed at his.
“Eyes on me, baby. Now, I need you to get down on the floor and stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded.
“Good girl,” he whispered before sliding one hand down to release my seat belt, then clicking open the glovebox to retrieve a black handgun. He gave a look at the floor, a silent command.
I slid down into the shadows.
Conner pulled back the slide on the gun, his hand going for the door handle.
A new flavor of fear suddenly clogged my throat. He was going out there to face them. To face the men who wanted us dead. What if they killed him? Why did that thought fill me with such dread? Was I simply scared of going back to my father, or was it more?
When I pictured Conner’s vibrant eyes turned dull and lifeless the way I’d seen my mother’s, my eyelids clamped shut, violently rejecting the image. I didn’t want to lose him. Even the thought tormented me.
I gasped and flinched when he flung open the door. He didn’t immediately go out. He waited for the round of shots being fired from behind us to cease. The second they paused, he launched upward. A series of his own blasts rang loud in the air around us.
I clamped my hands over my ears, another round of tears streaking down my cheeks. I didn’t even realize I’d closed my eyes again until silence coaxed me to open my scrunched lids.
I was alone.
My eyes widened as though that might help me see what was happening beyond the confines of my mental stronghold. I strained to hear over my pounding pulse, but no sounds met my ears until a car whizzed past. The distraction triggered another string of bullets.
Was that Conner shooting or our attacker? God, I hated not knowing what was happening.
Seconds later, I heard a series of thuds along with guttural curses—a fight.
Conner must be grappling with someone.
Was there more than one man after us? What if he was outnumbered? I chewed relentlessly at my lip, overwhelmed with helplessness.
When a single shot rang out, followed by deafening silence, I had to take a peek. Slinking into the driver’s seat, I did my best to stay hidden while easing myself closer to the still-open door. Once I was in a position to dart out if necessary, I peeked up and around to gauge the situation.
Conner stood with a gun in hand outstretched. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, eyes cast to his left while his gun remained pointed at what I assumed was someone on the ground.
I gingerly placed a foot on the ground and stood to peer over the car's roof. Then a cascade of events happened in a flash.
Noting my appearance, Conner whipped his head in my direction just as a gunshot pinged off the metal roof inches from my face. I dropped to the ground but managed to catch sight of a man running away from the scene.
“JesusChrist,” Conner roared, shooting a series of rounds into the distance before rushing to my side. “Did he get you? Are you hurt?” His eyes scoured my body.
I shook my head. “It didn’t get me. Are they still out there?”
