Page 77 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
No. Not a man.
A woman.
Lily’s breath caught. It couldn’t be. But itwas.
Her stomach turned. Her fingers tightened on her weapon, rage and disbelief fighting for space inside her.
“Margo,” she said carefully, her voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t want to hurt your own son.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and devastating.
Caleb’s head snapped in her direction. Even blindfolded, his body tensed. His lips parted like he was about to say something.
The woman behind him gasped, soft, sharp,familiar. It was enough. Confirmation.
Lily saw Griff’s jaw tighten from the corner of her eye. Her heart thudded harder, like her body was bracing for what her brain still couldn’t fully process.
Margo.
She’d taken Caleb. Held a gun to his head. Herownson.
And for what?
To keep the truth buried? To protect a lie?
Griff took a small step forward, voice steady and low. “You don’t have to do this, Margo. Caleb is safe. He’s alive. But he won’t be if you pull that trigger.”
Lily held her breath.
She watched Caleb’s small, shaking frame. The tremble of the gun.
And waited for the mother to surface.
The hoarse sob tore through the stillness like a scream. Then Margo’s hands flew to the edge of the mask. She yanked it off, revealing a face twisted with grief and panic, streaked with tears. Her lips trembled. Her eyes were wild.
And then she moved.
The gun jerked away from Caleb’s head and turned—fast, too fast—toward herself.
“No—” Lily breathed, lunging forward.
But Griff was faster.
He dove, slamming into Margo with enough force to drive both of them into the wall. And the gun went off. The sound of the shot ripped through the small room, deafening and final.
Lily’s pulse pounded in her ears as she dropped to her knees beside Caleb, shielding him with her body, bracing for blood, for screaming, for something—
But Griff’s groan wasn’t from pain.
He wasn’t hurt.
And neither was Caleb.
Lily’s wide eyes darted toward the wall. The bullet had torn through the shoulder of a mannequin, scattering bits of fabric and foam.
Margo lay beneath Griff, sobbing in great, shuddering waves, the gun now on the floor, kicked far from reach.
It was over.
