Page 215 of Even Exchange

“You’d really shoot your own grandchild?” I say, grasping for something, anything to bring humanity back to the monster before me.

“Of course not,” he says, tone full of humor. “But it’s not your baby.”

“Yes. She is.”How does he know that?Sure, our friends and immediate family are aware, but it’s not common knowledge.

“That’s not what Tabitha said,” he replies.

Charlotte and I share a look. The only reason his lawyer would know that information specifically is if a certain politician informed her. I assumed Georgia helped him get released, but hearing it confirmed?

Fuck.

Seeing Charlotte in danger, whimpering in pain, triggers a panic in me I’ve never felt. I should have listened to Georgia. If she blew up my career, so be it. But this?

“Then let them go!” I plead.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” He pulls the gun away, waving it towards me, and I let out a silent sigh of relief.That’s right. Keep it on me.My life for theirs. An even exchange. “You still havesucha temper.”

I’m fourteen again. Useless. Helpless. Even the self-defense classes won’t help for shit if I can’t get Charlotte out of here. Risking a bullet going off and hitting her is not an option.

Something crashes outside.Shit. I hope the guys didn’t give themselves away.My father drags Charlotte with him as he looks out the window, gun in his right hand. She turns, eyes finding mine.

Run,I mouth to her, pointing towards our bedroom and making a gun hand gesture hoping she gets the message.

He turns, dragging her back towards me, pistol pointed towards the floor. I sidestep so I’m on the same side. If I do this correctly, I should be able to knock it out of his hand and she can get to the bedroom.

“I kept waiting for you to visit me in jail,” he says. “To apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” I say, squaring my shoulders and stepping towards him to reduce our distance. He takes a step too, dragging Charlotte. I force a smile on my face. “You deserved it.”

His jaw ticks, and he lifts the gun my way. Charlotte swings, knocking it out of his grasp, and it slides across the floor. She bolts from him and scrambles for it as I tackle my father to the ground. I don’t have time to be furious she didn’t listen as she snatches up the gun, pointing it at us.

“Put your hands on the ground,” she shouts, and my father laughs, flipping us and pressing a knee to my chest.Shit.“Get off of him!” she shrieks, gesturing again with the gun, her hands shaking.

“Come on,” he says, and I jerk beneath him, unable to get free. Useless. Powerless. I’m fourteen again, watching Mom take another beating I couldn’t stop. “Put it down,sweetheart.”

“Don’t call her that,” I growl.

He smiles at her. “Guns are not for pretty little things like you.” He tugs me up, and my muscles tense as he uses my body like a shield. With both hands, I grip his arm around my neck. He extends his opposite hand towards Charlotte. “Give it to me before you hurt someone.”

Charlotte’s eyes meet mine, and I bring a finger up, tapping his arm near my shoulder, trying to signal her to aim there and praying she’s a good shot.

Bang.

She’s not.

“Fuck!” I gasp, pain radiating throughout my shoulder.

“Oh my god,” she gasps. “I’m so sorry.”

My father releases me, charging at her, and I ignore the blinding pain, jumping to my feet. Her eyes are wide, and she bends, sliding the gun across the floor towards me.

And misses me by a mile.

Soffione,I love you so much, butwhat the fuck?

She’s married to a quarterback, and her aim is worse than a drunk idiot at a urinal.

Spinning away, I fight for mental clarity, rushing after the gun. It lands next to the fridge, and I snatch it up, turning to face them with a wince, veins going cold. He’s straddling Charlotte on the ground, hands around her neck, her face beet red as he squeezes the oxygen from her lungs.

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