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Yes.
Too many.
I’d shot three.
There had been several more than that.
I’d just assumed it was me because I thought we were all alone.
We.
“Mom,” I gulped, scrambling up, and Nino reached down to help me to my feet. “Mom!” I yelped, running toward her.
It was her who reached out, though, grabbing my arms, refusing to let me wrap her in the hug I so badly needed right then.
“I’m afraid I’m covered in quite a bit of forensic evidence, my darling girl,” she said, and my gaze moved over the blood covering her once again.
“Here,” another voice said, making us both turn to find a handsome older man standing there, holding out a handkerchief toward her.
“Thank you,” my mom said, taking it, and wiping her face, neck, and arms, as my gaze moved toward the man.
At my questioning glance, he extended a hand. “Antony Grassi,” he said, taking my hand in both of his. “I guess it’s my place to officially welcome you into the family,” he said, eyes warm, and I could see a lot of his son in him.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling the relief rush through me.
“Whatever for?” he asked.
“For sending Nino to save us.”
“All part of being in the family,” he assured me, giving my hands a squeeze, then moving away.
His presence was replaced by Nino’s, whose arm went out, resting on my hip. Steady. Reassuring.
“Are you okay?”
“I… I’m sorry,” I said, eyes getting a little watery at the idea of him being angry with me for doing everything he would have told me not to do. “I had to save her. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. And I couldn’t just let them hurt her.”
“I know,” he said, giving my hip a little squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”
“I stole a car.”
“Yes, you did,” he agreed, giving me a little smirk.
“And a gun.”
“Yep.”
“And someone’s jacket.”
“That too,” he agreed.
“And I shot someone.”
“You… grazed someone,” Nino corrected.
“But… Mom,” I said, wide eyes finding her again, seeing her differently as the memory of her grabbing that screwdriver and stabbing it into a man’s neck without a moment of hesitation came back to me. “You… you stabbed him.”
“I sure did,” she agreed, giving me a surprisingly calm smile. “No one threatens to rape my little girl and lives to tell the tale of it,” she said, chin jerking up, and there was a strength there that I don’t think I’d ever seen before. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she said, giving me a soft smile. “I was a young, single mother of a very cute little girl. Do you really think it was all rainbows and butterflies?” she asked. “I’ve never been afraid to stand up to a man who threatens you or us.”
