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The man flew back into the wall next to the window.
Everleigh screamed awake.
The shot man wailed out, “The fucking kid shot me, St—!”
“Shut the fuck up!” roared the man, further startling Everleigh who was still screaming but now was also struggling to be set free.
I barely had time to register an arm in a silk blue robe appearing over my shoulder, but I instantly recognized the hand holding yet another gun. “Put my daughter down, you sonofabitch.”
My inner sigh of relief was warranted, but we were far from out of trouble, so I kept my weapon pointed at the wincing man, holding his shoulder and leaning against the wall.
The man holding Ev sneered at mom, “She’s not yours, cunt.”
As if mocking his words, Everleigh was frantically reaching out. “Mama! Mama!”
The lioness warned, “Give. Me. My. Baby.” Mom’s panting chest was knocking at my upper back like a hidden message. It’s something I will never forget. Yes, she was riddled with fear, but it didn’t—couldn’t—overpower the emotion that was truly present.
Love.
Whatever—or whoever’s—blood was running through that child’s veins, mattered not to Mom. Everleigh was her baby.
She rested a hand on my shoulder. “Lynx.”
I jolted. Dad had told me that was my road name—that it made me a man. He must’ve told Mom that night because she was calling me that name during a time she needed a man to help her.
In response, I gave a curt nod.
Her grip tightened in a proud manner. “When I tell you to, you shoot him again.”
How did Mom know this would be effective? Shooting the same man twice? Because her own lynx eyes were even more trained than mine. She saw she was dealing with twin brothers.
The man holding Ev eyed his brother, his nostrils flaring as if not appreciating Mom finding a weakness of his. Then, hauntingly, his eyes found Mom again before he threatened, “You prepared to die for her? Because that’s what’s going down if I let her go.”
Mom sounded like a deadly angel when she replied, “It was a beautiful day and night. I’d have no regrets.” Her arm pointed her gun at the wounded brother. “You feeling the same?”
The man against the wall? He raised a hand to shield his face as he cowered. “Put the little girl down!”
“No! She’s mine!”
The wounded yelped, “I ain’t going to make it!”
The shoulder I had shot was, indeed, bleeding profusely.
The man with a decision to make roared in a trapped rage and then… released Everleigh.
As she had done with me, as soon as her bare feet touched the floor, they were scurrying. Her tiny hand touched my thigh as she rushed past me to cling to Mom’s leg. She was gasping for air and sniffling, trying to climb that pillar—Mom’s stance—to get in her embrace.
Mom couldn’t welcome her. She was too busy protecting her.
In slow motion, I watched Mom’s left arm appear on the other side of my head, her hand sliding up against mine. “Baby, give me your gun.” As I handed it to her, I could feel an invisible shift. It was as if my heart sensed the gloom coming. With my gun secure in her grasp, she pointed it at the furious man while keeping hers aimed at his brother. “Now, Lynx, pick up your sister and leave.”
I said, “But—”
Just then, the angry man took a step forward.
Boom!
My ears rang as her gun—much bigger than mine—fired into the injured man’s stomach.
