Sierra.
I thought of her helpless little form. It was pure torture. I always tucked her in at night, always put her to sleep. I’d skipped that tonight, and now I would never know the sweetness of her breath, the weight of her leg keeping me from leaving, the way she bounced on my bed in the morning.
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
I had lost Damian and now I was going to die, knowing my daughter would be next. How can anyone feel so much pain and still be alive?
Dear Lord, bless my soul. And watch over Sierra.
I couldn’t go on. I heaved through the torment that was clawing at my insides, and squeezed Damian’s hand, anticipating the next bullet.
He squeezed back.
My eyes flew open.
Damian was still kneeling beside me, unharmed. Victor was standing in front of us, eyes vacant, staring straight ahead. His collar was splattered with blood. He stood there for a beat before falling backwards. His body toppled down the stairs. Rafael stood at the foot of the stairs, holding the gun that Victor had dropped earlier.
“I came back for my phone,” he said.
Damian and I stared at each other, and then at him. He’d shot Victor in the back of the head.
“You took him down in one shot,” said Damian, his eyes on the gun that was still smoking in Rafael’s hand.
“I saw a man shoot my mother and father. I wasn’t about to stand by and witness someone do the same to you and Skye.”
Damian let out his breath and wrapped me up in his arms. “You picked a hell of a good day to come through,” he said to Rafael. Our bodies were so tense, it took a few seconds for relief to settle in.
“The wedding would have been crap without a best man.”
We tried to laugh, but none of us could. Victor’s contorted body lay in a pool of blood at the base of the staircase. My knees wobbled when Damian helped me up.
“I thought he killed you.” I clutched his shirt and sobbed.
“I saw myself in him. The way I’d been.” He held me so fiercely I could barely breathe. “You were my saving grace, Skye.”
We clung to each other, acknowledging the glorious miracle of being alive.
“Let’s go check on Sierra,” I said.
“Call the police,” Damian said to Rafael. “And an ambulance. I want to make sure Sierra’s all right. Victor sedated her.”
“I’m on it,” he replied. “Go look after your girls.”
“I will. And Rafael?” Damian turned to him. “Are you all right?”
Rafael nodded and dropped the gun. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”
“I owe you one. Big time.”
“You saved my life twice, Damian. I simply returned the favor. Two for two. Accounts balanced.”
“There were three of us. Don’t tell me this screwed up your brain cells, Mr. Mathemagician.”
Rafael attempted a smile, but were were all too shaken up. “Tell Sierra I want a rematch when she’s ready.”
“Game on, Rambo. But I have a feeling she’s still going to kick your butt.”
DAMIAN AND SIERRA WERE TOSSING peanuts into each other’s mouths.
Crunch. Crunch Crunch.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
“Oh my God. Would you two stop that? It’s driving me insane! We’re never going to get this place ready.” I swept up the stray peanuts rolling on the floor.
We were at Damian’s island retreat, getting it ready so Rafael and his fiancée could honeymoon there.
“You know you don’t have to lift a finger.” Damian took the broom from me and set it aside. “I can have a crew come in and fix up the place in no time.”
“The man saved our lives, Damian. It’s the least I can do.”
“Clean is clean whether you do it yourself or hire someone to look after it.”
“You used to insist I do the chores around here.”
“That’s when I thought you were a self-entitled princess.”
“And now?” I linked my arms around his neck.