Page 59 of Darkwater Lane

The minute she sees me, she drops the blanket and runs toward me. “Mom!”

The men detaining me try to stop her, but they underestimate her. She barrels through them, elbowing one in the ribs, until she crashes into me. I feel her solid warmth against me for a heartbeat before they drag her away.

“Hey! Stop that!” She fights, spitting and clawing to get back to me. “Get off me! Let go, you asshole!”

“Lanny,” I say, trying to get her to focus. “Where are Connor and Sam?”

She stops struggling. Her eyes go wide. “What do you mean? They’re not inside?”

In my head, I hear the echoes of those earlier gunshots. Panicclaws at my thoughts, but I can’t let it gain purchase. We have a plan for situations like this. We’ve drilled it dozens of times. If there’s any threat at the house, the kids are supposed to lock their bedroom doors, check to make sure the outside is clear, and then run like hell.

I hope to God that’s what Connor did and that he’s halfway to Easy Claremont’s house by now. Kez’s father is a Korean War vet. He’ll keep Connor safe.

Just then, I hear a scuffle around the corner. A trio of armed men appear from the back of the house, dragging a fourth man between them. It’s Sam. His formerly white shirt is torn and bloody, and his plaid pajama pants are caked with mud. His hands are cuffed behind his back.

“Sam!” I shout.

He glances my way, and I suck in a breath. Blood gushes from his nose and is smeared across his cheeks. One eye is already swelling shut. Everything inside me wants to race to him and run my hands over him, checking for damage.

As if sensing this, he catches my eye and shakes his head. Telling me to stay put. “Connor?” I mouth the word, not wanting the men around me to overhear.

Sam’s response is one word: “Safe.”

My knees nearly give out in relief. Whatever shots were fired earlier, none seem to have found their intended target.

A new voice joins the fray, this one female and brimming with authority and outrage. “What thefuckis going on here?” It’s Kezia. She’s out of breath from climbing the driveway at nine months pregnant but she doesn’t show it.

All I can think is thank God.

She storms into the middle of the chaos, hands on her hips and expression formidable, commanding attention. She scans the situation, eyes quickly lighting on both me and Lanny to ensure we’re okay before finally finding Sam.

She curses under her breath as she storms over to him. “Jesus, Sam. You okay?”

He manages to get his feet under him and stands, wincing slightly. “Never better.”

“The guy ran when we told him to stop,” one of the cops holding Sam volunteers.

“Yeah, he was resisting arrest,” the other chimes in, defending their obvious use of force.

Kez narrows her eyes at them, lips pursed to show her disbelief. She shakes her head, then turns, her attention falling on a tank of a man standing nearby. She clearly recognizes him. “Jenkins. Care to explain what this is?” She waves a hand around, indicating the half-dozen cop cars, the ambulance, and the helicopter overhead.

“We got a credible call that a young girl’s life was in danger,” he says.

“And what did this call say, exactly?”

“We had a report that a man and woman at this address were trafficking their daughter. Man who reported it said he’d been keeping an eye on the place, gathering up evidence, but then he heard shouting and a cry for help, followed by gunfire.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “And you believed the caller?”

Jenkins shifts. “He’s a credible source.”

“Who?” Kez demands.

He doesn’t answer, saying instead, “We had reason to believe there was ongoing violence occurring, and exigent circumstances dictated we act immediately.”

“Mm-hmm. Don’t you think this is overkill?”

He raises his eyebrows. “You ever been to the range with one of these two?” he asks, indicating Sam and me. “Everyone knows they’re armed to the teeth, and both got reputations for violence.”

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