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All her training was to prepare her for this moment—a moment she hoped wouldn’t come again. The fact that she had company this time around made it worse, somehow, because there was more at stake. Carmen and Nora were here, and they were both integral to her life. If she lost either of them... Where the fuck was Gavin? If he was in Maine—
“This is awful,” Carmen said.
Lyla focused on her. “What do you mean?”
Carmen tugged the blanket around her. “The waiting to see what happens next.”
She brushed her finger over Nora’s cheek and was relieved to find it warm to the touch. “It’s a game to him.”
“Sick fucker. What’s the most painful way to die? That’s how he should go.”
She thought of her mother and squeezed her eyes shut as a flood of emotion filled her. Why take her mother? What did he want with her?
“Lyla, she’s going to be okay.”
She blinked rapidly.
“She’ll pull through, just like you did,” Carmen said.
“I hope so.”
The sound of rapid footsteps made her stand. She looked through the open doorway as her father paced from one end of the room to the other, twisting his hands together and muttering to himself. Of course, he didn’t bother to keep guard. He was probably thinking of more shit to heap on her shoulders.
She sat quietly and tried to calm her whirling, chaotic thoughts. When Nora drifted off, she lay her beside Carmen who tucked her close. She cleaned up in the bathroom and splashed her face once more. She was so weary that she felt sick, but she couldn’t rest until Blade came back.
When she exited the bathroom, her father’s muttering seemed even more frenzied. He didn’t seem to be aware of her. Was he finally reacting to Mom’s kidnapping? She tried to catch what he was saying, but it was too low and jumbled for her to understand.
She cracked open the front door and listened. There was absolutely no sound aside from her father’s faint footfalls. She held her gun at her side as she walked out on the porch and then down the steps. She had another gun in her bag. She thought of tucking both into her leggings, but that was stupid. Maybe she should get a belt with a double gun holster. She would look like a woman from the Wild West with a gun on each hip. That was how she felt. She was part of a world where there were no rules and no safe place.
The faint glow of the city was a beacon in the distance. The desert stretched out before her, covered in cacti, shrubs, and trees. There was no road, which would make Blade’s progress slow and arduous. She wrapped her arms around herself as the cold penetrated. She closed her eyes and focused on calming herself. She was alive, and Nora was safe. She couldn’t do anything for her mother at the moment. All she could do was stand here and wait for something to happen. Her fighter instincts were elevated. Even when her hand went numb, she refused to tuck the gun away. Everything in her screamed out a warning. Sadist was always one step ahead. How many times would she escape before she ran out of luck?
When her face was numb from the cold and there was no sign of a car, she walked into the cabin, which was only fractionally warmer. She walked into the kitchen and was debating whether to drink from the tap again when she realized her father wasn’t in the living room. The bathroom was empty, and the bedroom door was partially closed. She swung it open and had a split second to take in the scene. Her father stood over a sleeping Carmen and Nora. The bag of ammo was open and her father had her second gun in his hand.
A loud blast ripped through the room, startling Carmen and Nora awake. She wasn’t aware of the fact that she still held her gun or that she pulled the trigger. Her father’s body jerked like a puppet on a string as a bullet sliced through him. The gun he held fell with a dull thud. Nora began to cry and kick frantically as her grandfather fell to his knees beside the bed with his blood staining the wooden floor.
17
Lyla
“Lyla, what—?”Carmen began, eyes wide with horror.
She braced herself against the doorjamb as her legs buckled. She just shot her father who intended to kill his granddaughter in cold blood.
“Lyla?”
Carmen’s voice roused her from her horrified stupor. She stood on the opposite side of the bed, Nora clasped to her chest, face ghost white.
“Get her out of here,” she whispered.
“What happened? Why would he—?”
“Carmen, go.”
Her mind was a blank slate of rage and denial. She vowed that Nora wouldn’t be exposed to this lifestyle, yet her grandfather had been shot less than a foot from her at four months old. She had questions for him, and she couldn’t do it with Carmen and Nora present.
Carmen’s eyes locked on hers before she nodded and left with Nora. The sound of Nora’s screams faded as Carmen moved into the kitchen, leaving her with Pat. She forced herself to move forward until she stood in front of him. He pressed a hand to the wound in the middle of his chest.
“Why?” she whispered.
