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And that's when Momma starts sobbing hysterically and my chest constricts. No one will ever love Lou-Lou more than I do...but it doesn't mean I'm the only one who loves her.
Because God knows she deserves to be loved.
I reach for Momma's hand and give it a squeeze, feeling grateful she was there for her when I wasn't and hating how upset she is right now. “You're right, Momma. Good thinking.”
She squeezes my hand back and even though she doesn't say it, I know she knows that me reaching out to touch her is my way of telling her that I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier today.
We stay silent for the rest of the drive, both of us refusing to say what else the other is thinking.
What if we're too late?
I'm pulling into the long driveway leading to Momma's house when I see it.
Beside me, Momma gasps. “What the—”
I hold up my hand. “Quiet.”
I jam on the brakes and shut off the SUVs lights.
We're still a good 100 feet away or so from the truck, but I can faintly make out some kind of movement happening in the dark.
I send a text to my men in the other SUV, instructing them to park behind me and meet me on foot.
Then I turn to Momma and whisper, “Stay here. And no matter what happens...do not get out of the car.”
I have no clue what I'm walking into, but I do know that a strange truck in Momma's driveway definitely isn't a good sign.
I'm about to get out when she reaches for my arm. “Please be careful.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes...this is exactly why members of the mafia don't take their mothers with them when they're out conducting business.
“If you hear gunshots, you get into the driver’s seat and haul ass out of here...understand?”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “Got it?”
I don't wait for her response as I get out of the car and start walking toward the truck.
The light from the full moon illuminates some figure wearing what I'm presuming is a cowboy hat...but I'm still too far away to make out who it is.
And then I take another step...and my entire body burns with red hot anger.
Because it turns out there isn't just one figure...there are two.
And one of them belongs to the girl who happens to be my entire fucking world.
And the other belongs to some asshole who I can only assume must be Atticus because of the way she's currently sighing his name.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my spine turns to ice, and everything that occurs next seems to happen in slow motion because...
All. I. See. Is. Black.
My gun is out when I notice the hand that's splayed across her stomach.
My gun is pointed at him when I hear the sound of a zipper being undone.
My finger is on the trigger when he slips his hand inside her shorts and says, “Maybe if you make this fuck worth my while...I won't do what it is that I was hired to do. I'll keep this hot cunt of yours all for myself and make them both kill each other over it.”
And my heart's in my throat when the glint of a shiny metal object coming out of his pocket catches my eye, and my heart stops beating entirely when I hear her sob my name...
Right before I'm ru
Then screaming her name for dear life as she collapses in my arms.