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My pulse had just started to slow back down when I heard something that had me wanting to throw up.
A gunshot.
My whole body jolted as my mind raced, ping-ponging from one horrible scenario to another.
Aurelio out there.
No backup.
Against who?
Warren?
An army of his guards?
The second gunshot had a yelp escaping me.
“No,” I whimpered, lower lip trembling. “No no no,” I cried as more gunshots sounded, this time making Judah jolt and whimper.
“Shhh, shhh,” I half cooed, half pleaded, too worried about Aurelio to be as comforting as I should be to my son.
This couldn’t be it, damnit.
A shootout in a safe house.
Aurelio hit.
Me beaten, raped, and murdered.
My son left with no one to love him, to care for him.
Just a monster to mold him into one as well.
There was a moment of silence then, one that filled me with hope and dread, both of them battling for prominence as I stood there.
Frozen.
Not knowing what to do.
What the best move was.
Surely, staying there like a sitting duck wasn’t it.
If it was Warren and his men out there, wasn’t my best bet to try to fight?
My mind flashed with memories of the last time I’d been forced to, knowing damn well that, had the Grassis not shown up, I likely wouldn’t have made it, wouldn’t have been able to fight off Warren, let alone the rest of his men.
But did that mean I shouldn’t have tried?
Wasn’t it best to go down fighting?
Stomach in knots even at the idea of walking away from my terrified, hysterical son, I forced my feet forward.
Over and over.
Until the door was closed behind me.
And he was safely on the other side.
