Page 109 of Triple Power Play 3
Jax lifts his head to give him a pained glare. “What if this is your partner’s doing?”
“My partner armed the twins. Would he do that if he was involved?” Reece sucks in a labored breath. “Would your father’s fan club need to break windows if Charlie was on their side? No, he’d be letting them in the front door.”
“Where is he then?” Jax snaps, despair sharp in his tone.
“Take a breath. I saved his life. He’ll save mine.” Reece’s lids droop, and his words become a mumble.
I adjust my posture, coming up on my knees to apply more pressure to his upper chest and relieve my aching shoulders. “I don’t give a fuck what he does, as long as he kills them all.” On the outside, I’m vacant, my voice emotionless. I can’t say I’m numb—far from it. Rage and wrath have suppressed empathy and rationality. I want what’s mine, and I want this night to be over. I don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone else. “Every. Single. One.”
Thepopof a gunshot brings our attention back to the screen, where it’s split between the security room and Reece’s hallway. It’s grainy in the dim light, and everything moves faster than I can comprehend.
Outside the security room, a masked man dressed in all black aims at the keypad.
Jax trembles against me. “That room is supposed to be impenetrable, fire and smokeproof.”
Anotherpop.
I hold my breath.
Nothing. The door remains intact.
Anotherpop. A fine mist bursts from the intruder’s head, and he crumbles in a heap on the floor.
Fuck.
Desi enters the frame with his gun drawn, turns toward Reece’s bedroom, and fires again. They must be approaching from the beach, breaking in through multiple points at the back of the house.
There’s no way the neighbors can’t hear this. There’s no way the security company hasn’t dispatched the police.
“You did good,” I tell Jax, my words sluggish and distant.
I don’t recognize my own voice. I’m trapped in a hellscape, my mind flashing to an alternative time when I was helpless, a little boy waking up in a roach-infested apartment to another day without food and my mother passed out on the itchy couch.
I vividly remember the fabric. It was covered in rough, abrasive lint balls. Alone, I’d pick at them for hours, but they’d never come off. The threads were bare, and the yellow, spongy cushion pushed through the holes. It smelled of mold and stale cigarette smoke.
Dirt is stuck between my feet and the plywood from where the linoleum is torn and jabbing at my soft soles. I peer down at the drooling woman whose job it is to care for me, and I swear, when I get older, I’ll never be powerless again.
Now I’m the caregiver, and what’s mine is trembling beside me, bleeding out beneath me, defending my home, and hiding under a desk with my baby inside her.
“Never again.”
Jax’s bloodshot emerald eyes meet mine.
“Never again do you do something without telling me.”
His eyes well up with tears.
“Never again do you take sole responsibility for defending our family. That’sourjob. The three of us work together, communicate better. Do you understand?”
He nods then tilts his head, his ears catching a beeping sound. “The door,” he whispers.
“Hit the lights,” Reece croaks, pushing himself into a seated position.
“They’re motion sensors.” Jax scrambles to his feet, snags the bat, and races toward the rear of the garage.
I wipe my bloodied hands on my pants and follow. Fuck, my arms don’t want to cooperate, my muscles stiff and my head throbbing.
I nearly trip on a hockey stick and grab it as a weapon. How fitting.
