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“You have retained counsel.”
Shit. Fuck.
My eyes close. My arms drop to my side, and my shoulders slump. The piercing reverberation in my ears rings as I stare down at the person I just killed.
It’s the sob that rips from my chest that brings me back to reality.
“Not now, baby.” Eli’s voice is pointed. “Not now. Tonight, you can cry. Right now, stay angry. You do not need to appear remorseful. Scared? Angry? That works. Do not let them see you regret anything.”
I nod and take my eyes off the prone body to look into Eli’s eyes. His are hard. He’s pacing with Colt who still cries.
And I get it.
* * *
Elias
“Can I have Colt?”Bright’s eyes flit between my face and the crying baby in my arms.
“Not yet, darlin’.”
“Why?”
“Trust me?”
“Of course I do.” She’s got her back up. The strong fighter I know has a gleam in her eyes.
“Then follow my lead, okay?”
When the lights flit across the inside of the barn and multiple voices call out for entry, the relief that flows over her is practically palpable.
A pair of officers walk in as if they’re invincible. A third, much younger than the first two, shows some self-preservation by looking around, hanging back, and keeping a lighter step.
When the leader of the bunch sees Bright, hand still on her pistol and the man on the ground, he reaches for his holster, speaking like he would to a skittish animal. Caution finally enters his demeanor. “Ma’am, drop your weapon.”
Bright, to his shock, holsters her firearm. His eyes flit between her hip and the man on the ground.
“What happened here?”
“This”—she waves a hand at the man on the floor—“intruder…” She searches for words before continuing, “raised a gun on me. We’ve had credible threats against my nephew.” Her head tilts toward the hooded figure. “He pointed a gun at me; I fired at him.”
“How many?”
“I wanted him down, not riddled. That took two.”
Colt’s wails echo from the walls, and Bright turns pleading eyes on me.
“Eli, I need Colt,” She pleads with me.
I walk to her and place him in her arms, stroking his head as he strains his neck, close to having cried himself out.
“Threats?” The heavier set one asks while the second in command puffs out his chest and looks down his nose.
The youngest one walks to where the shooter’s firearm slid when Brighton kicked it from his hand. “The gun’s right here.”
“We received a threat this morning intimating that Colt Ranger would be taken. The Sheriff is aware of these threats since he was here soon after they were reported. I don’t know when he left, but the ranch’s on lockdown while we waited to see how credible they were.”
“And you would be?” This comes from the youngest.
