“Aunt Elle!” Zander shouts and moves toward me. Rig doesn’t let him go. He just shoves the gun into Zander’s temple even harder.
“Should have known you’d find us,” Rig says in a clipped tone. I have all his attention right now, which is a good thing. Even the quiet chirping of a nearby bird doesn’t catch his attention.
“Taking my nephew’s a damn good way to get my attention,” I say. “Now, I have your money in the truck. What do you say to letting Zander go? You and I can walk over and get the cash.”
“Bullshit,” Rig shouts. He shakes with anger. His sudden, jerky movements terrify me.
I don’t say a word because the last thing I need is for him to snap and accidentally pull the trigger. Not only can I not stand to lose the boy, but I can’t lose him right in front of his mother’s eyes. Neither of us would ever recover from it. Another problem—I don’t have the money. We didn’t have time to get it, but he hadn’t even called us to set up an exchange yet. Getting the call from my guy with a hit off the call Rig made to me the other day was a blessing. Otherwise, we’d still be sitting around, waiting to hear something.
A branch snaps loudly in Amber’s direction. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see her stomping on the thick branch as she forces it to snap in several places. It’s just enough of a distraction for Rig to point his gun into the woods. I meet Zander’s eyes and nod firmly. He pulls away, catching Rig off guard, and throws himself on the ground nearby before crawling away. Rig’s furious face turns beet red as he realizes he’s lost the only thing keeping him alive.
Everything happens so fast. Diesel and Amber step out from behind their trees, and the three of us march forward, shouting at Rig to drop his weapon. He refuses, and like the idiot he is, he’s frantically pointing it at each of us. A distinct popping noise sounds from my right, like a mix between a BB gun and someone shooting off bottle caps or something. Rig’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. He doubles over with a hand over his gut. I take a look at Amber to find she’s got a suppressor on the end of her gun. She takes a few more steps toward him, fires again, and continues closing in on him. He clutches the gun in his hand and tries to angle it toward her, but she’s not having it. She pops one into his forearm, causing him to drop his piece.
I run up to Rig with Diesel by my side. He takes possession of Rig’s gun and pats him down for more weapons. Rig tries to struggle, but Diesel punches him in the face, again and again, until he knocks him out. I’m not taking any chances with this asshole, though, so I still cuff him and then step away to call the cleanup guy I have on the job today. He’s a creepy fuck, but he can make a crime scene disappear better than anyone I know. I had him hang back near the entrance so he only had to show up if it was necessary. Knowing Amber’s temper, I knew we weren’t going to get out of here without some bloodshed.
I keep my distance from the scene before me while I wait for the cleanup guy to arrive. Once he gets here, we can go, but I want to take in this moment before it passes. Amber’s on the ground with Zander tight in her arms. She has tears streaming down her face, and if I’m not mistaken, so does he. She’s clutching him so tight to her chest that they could be tears of desperation because he can’t breathe. I’m not about to tell her to lighten up, though. She needs this.
Diesel finishes with Rig and comes to stand beside me. He doesn’t say a word, but he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. I let a smile light up my face at his touch. These little moments mean so much to me. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, or next week even, but I do know that I’m going to be here, hanging on to him. The fear in the back of my head tells me to pull away and leave him before he leaves me, but I don’t want to. I want to stay and hold on for as long as I can. I’m tired of being so alone.
“You’ve been mad at me, huh?” Amber says as she looks into Zander’s eyes. He looks down and shrugs his shoulders. He’s taller than her, with broader shoulders and a thick neck. Still, as she cups his cheek to force him to look at her, it’s hard not to see him as a little boy. “You’re mad because the older you get, the more you need your dad around. Knowing who he is probably doesn’t help. Well—” she pauses and hitches a thumb in Diesel’s direction “—this is Diesel. He’s one of your dad’s brothers. So it looks like the jig is up.”