I struggled with him slightly. “Lexie!” I pleaded at him.
I watched him glance at the stage, something working in his eyes.
Then there was silence. Not complete silence; there were a couple of whimpers, screams at the odd gunshot as men leapt up, firing at the bikes that were screaming out of the parking lot.
Gage quickly ran his eyes over me. Satisfied, he leapt up and I followed him with my eyes to see him sprinting to his bike with a couple of other men. To make chase. I repeat to chase the people who had just come and shot up a party.
I didn’t think about that, just scrambled up and raced toward the stage, not seeing anything but my daughter standing amidst a hail of gunfire. My eyes locked on Killian, who was crouched next to her, gently pulling her up, his hands hurriedly moving over her body as if to check for something. My whole frame stilled. Gunshots. He was checking my baby for gunshot wounds.
And with that, arms circled around me, stopping me from making it to her. I struggled to get free.
“Baby, stop,” a tight voice commanded.
I didn’t stop fighting, even though the voice was familiar, full of urgency and panic. “Let me go,” I half screamed.
Hands moved to grip my shoulders and turned me to face him. Zane quickly ran his eyes up and down my body. His eyes were tortured. It seemed like his entire body sagged in relief when he realized I wasn’t bleeding from any gunshot wounds.
“Let me go to my daughter,” I gritted out in fury.
He jerked at my tone and his eyes grew panicked as they sought out the stage. My eyes followed his, and I sagged in relief to see Killian lifting her off the stage and setting her on her feet. Her eyes locked on mine and Zane’s and she ran over.
“Mom!” she cried.
I pulled slightly out of Zane’s arms to embrace my daughter. I clutched her to me, smelling her hair, letting myself finally breathe since the moment I heard those shots.
“You’re okay,” I whispered into her hair. “You’re okay,” I repeated this time to myself. I watched the horror unfold around me without letting her go. Kids were crying, but luckily unharmed. Cade had his small daughter clasped tightly in the crook of his arm while he crouched in front of his pregnant wife, eyes worriedly roving every inch of her. He barked orders to those around him. My eyes moved. A woman lay sobbing next to the prone body of a greying man in a cut. My eyes moved. The beautiful African American man I saw earlier was leaning against a picnic table. His grim-faced partner was pressing his tee against his arm, red blossoming through the shirt. My eyes moved. The boys from the stage were, thank God, unharmed and pale faced, helping direct younger children inside.
My eyes moved and locked on tortured ones. Familiar ones. His hand rested on Lexie’s head for a moment, his eyes closing as if to make sure she was real. He gave me a long look, then he was gone. My eyes followed him as he mounted his bike along with a couple of others and roared off in the direction the shooters had gone moments earlier.
“She still asleep?” I asked quietly.
Killian nodded stiffly. His face was grim. Lexie was curled up against him on the sofa while he was half lying down. He had refused to leave her side the whole horrible afternoon, which I thanked my lucky stars for. She was trying to hold it together but was visibly shaken. His presence seemed to calm her slightly. I was also trying to hold it together, considering I was the mom and everything. The cops had arrived pretty quickly, not long after the ambulances, taking the three wounded people away. The coroner also came to take the one dead body. Dead person.
Cade had also insisted Gwen be taken into the hospital, even though she seemed shaken but unharmed. Their small daughter went too.
Before the police had arrived, Cade had come over to me to make sure I was okay. it was the only time he actually left Gwen’s side before she was taken away. Once he had been assured of my health, his concerns moved to something else. “Cops are going to come soon,” he said in a low voice.
I nodded. There was just a freaking shooting; of course the freaking cops were coming.
“Need to know what you saw,” he clipped.
My head jerked up. “What do you mean?”
He eyed me. “You see the shooters, Mia?” he asked carefully, gently even.
I wasn’t fooled by his tone, and had a small inkling of where this conversation was going. “I was too busy dodging bullets to get a clear vision for any police sketch, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said a tad sarcastically.
His face hardened. “Lexie was on the stage. She see anything?” he asked slowly.