He comes in closer so I can feel his breath feather over my lips as his fingers dig deeper into the sides of my cheeks, and I can’t help the cry of fear that falls from my lips. “The question is, Rylee … exactly how far would you go to protect one of your boys?”

“Fuck you.” The garbled words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, anger removing the filter between my head and mouth. And before I can blink, his fist slams into my abdomen, and I’m propelled backwards. I land with a thud against the concrete patio, my shoulders and head hitting the wood fence behind me.

The terror consuming my body overshadows pain from the blow. I’ve landed near Zander so I scramble as quickly as I can over to his side and pull him into me, trying to protect him in any way I can. I know he’s behind me, can feel the heavy presence of the gun I know is pointed at me, but I rock Zander.

“It’s okay, Zand. He’s not going to hurt you. I’m not going to let him hurt you,” I tell him in a hushed voice, but Zander doesn’t stop rocking, doesn’t stop chanting, and I’m so petrified right now I start chanting for the superheroes with him as we sit in a backyard built on hope and what I fear will soon be marred with violence.

“I’ve come to take my son.” If I thought his voice was cold before, his tone now matches the steel of his gun.

“No,” I tell him, the waver in my voice betraying the confidence of what I want to say.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with?” he growls, pointing the gun into my back, its hard nose digging deep between my shoulder blades. “It’s time to step away from my son.”

I squeeze my hands into fists to quit their shaking so Zander doesn’t know how scared I am. I don’t want his father to realize it either. I force a swallow as Zander’s sobs start racking through his body, and if I didn’t already know, I know now with such clarity—with a cold sweat breaking over my skin and fear in my heart—that I can’t let his father take him. That I’ll protect him with everything I have because no one else could before.

The muzzle in my back digs deeper, and I bite back a yelp of pain as tears freely flow down my cheeks. I begin to worry my bottom lip between my teeth, because in a moment I’m going to stand up. And when I turn around I have to show him I’m not scared of him. I have to put on the performance of a lifetime in order to save this little boy.

“Now!” he shouts at me, my body jumping as his voice cuts through the constant hum of Zander’s chanting.

I lean my mouth down by Zander’s ear and try to still him as he rocks, hoping that my words get to him—break through the world he’s transported his mind to—in order to save himself from the fear and memories of his father.

“Zander, listen to me,” I tell him. “I’m not going to let him take you. I promise. The superheroes are coming. They’re coming okay? I’m gonna stand now but when I say Batman I want you to run as fast as you can into the house okay? Batman.”

I just finish my words when I feel the gun leave my shoulder blades but feel his boot connect with my left side. I groan in pain as I absorb the impact, tensing my arms around Zander as we push harder into the fence we’re cornered against.

“Get the fuck up, Rylee.”

“Batman, okay?” I say again, gritting my teeth as I breathe through the pain and force myself to rise on wobbly legs. I take a deep breath and turn to face him.

“You’re a tough cookie!” He sneers at me. “I like my women tough.”

I swallow the bile rising in my throat and force evenness in my tone that I hope I can maintain. “I’m not letting you take him.”

He laughs out loud, raises his face up to the sky, before looking back at me, and I wonder if I just missed my one chance to tell Zander to go. To run. My heart twists at the thought. “Now, I really don’t think you’re in the position to be telling me what exactly I can and cannot be doing. Right?”

My head races for things to say. Ways to calm down the nerves I can see are starting to overtake him with each passing second. But all the same, I need this time. The longer I have, the more likely help might be coming. “There’s a yard full of press out front. How are you going to leave with him?”

He laughs again and I know the sound will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. “That’s where you’re wrong. They all left with your hotshot boyfriend and followed him.” He steps closer and raises the gun to my face. “It’s just you, and me, and Z-man over there. So what do you have to say to that, huh?”

I swear all of the blood in my body drains to my feet because I have to struggle to remain focused on standing as the dizziness assaults me. After a moment, I manage to steady myself, to see through the blackness clouding my vision, and try to figure out what to do next.

The only thought I can come up with is to distract him somehow, lunge for the weapon, and scream at Zander to run.

But how?

When?

We stand for what seems like forever—a silent standoff where it’s more than evident who holds all the power in this forced relationship. As time stretches I see his hands starting to shake, his facial muscles twitching, and the sweat beading, all while the sound of Zander’s escalating chants continue to add more pressure to the unstable situation.

“Shut him the fuck up!” he screams at me as his eyes flicker all over the yard like a trapped animal unsure of its next move.

I startle when I hear a noise behind Zander’s dad. My heart leaps is my chest as the next door neighbor’s dog barks viciously through the fence. Zander’s father twists at the sound, the gun moving with him. I act on instinct, not allowing myself to think of the consequences.

“BATMAN!” I scream at the same time I lunge at Zander’s father. I collide into him, the harsh impact of my athletic frame against his knocks all thoughts from my head, except for one, I hope Zander heard me. That I got through to him and he’s running to save himself because I just sealed my fate if I’m not successful.

The sound is deafening.

The crack of the gun going off.

The jerk of his body from its recoil.

My scream, a primal sound I hear but don’t even recognize as my own. Then it stops. The wind is knocked out of me as we slam to the ground. I’m momentarily stunned—my body, my mind, my heart—as I land on top of him, before I try to struggle to get away. I have to get the gun, I have to make sure Zander is gone.

I push up off the vile man beneath me, still struggling. My only thought is get the gun, get the gun, get the gun, and my hands slip in the slickness beneath me. I shove backwards as panic and pain radiate through me. I land with a thud on my ass, the force jolting all the way up my spine and snapping my mind out of the shock it’s in.

I lose focus on the man, as I look at the blood on my trembling hands. I take in the blood covering my T-shirt with Ricky’s team’s mascot printed on the front. My mind scrambles to think, frantically searches its recesses for what I’m supposed to be doing because the sight—so much blood—is making me dizzy.

I’m confused.

I’m scared.

Dizzy.

My world goes black.

CHAPTER 28

“Please, baby, please wake up.”

Colton? My head is foggy as I hear his voice and smell him near. I try to figure out what exactly is going on. My eyelids feel so heavy, but I can’t open them just yet.

“Sir, you need to let me examine—”

“I’m not going fucking anywhere!”

It’s so warm and cozy here in the darkness—so safe—but why is Colton … Then it all hits me like a tidal wave of overwhelming emotions. I start to fight to sit up. “Zander!” His name is barely a croak as I struggle against arms, hands, not sure what else is holding me down.

“Shh, shh, shh! It’s okay, Ry. It’s okay.”

Colton.

My whole body sags momentarily. Colton is here. My eyes open, tears already welling in them, and the first sight I see is him. My ace. A shining light in all of this darkness. His eyes meet mine, the lines around his deep with concern and a forced smile on those devastating lips of his. “You’re okay, baby.”

I blink rapidly as everything else comes into focus, the flurry of activity around us in the backyard—policemen, medics. “Zander. Gun. Dad.” My mind is reeling and I can’t get the thoughts into words fast enough, my eyes flitting back and forth, focusing on a group of men hunched over something to the side of me.

I keep repeating the words until Colton leans down and presses a kiss to my mouth. I taste salt on his lips and my mind tries to grasp why he’s been crying. When he pulls back, his smile is a little less shaky. “There’s my girl,” he says softly, his hands smoothing over my hair, my cheeks, my face. “You’re okay, Ry. Zander’s okay, Ry.” He leans his forehead against mine.

“But there was blood—”

“Not yours,” he says, his lips curving into a relieved smile against mine. “Not yours,” he repeats. “You were ridiculously stupid and I’m so angry at you for it, but you went for the gun and the police took their shot. His blood, baby. It was his blood. He’s dead.”

I suck in a breath. Relief I didn’t realize I hadn’t released yet rushes out of my lungs. And the tears come now—hard, ragged, body shaking sobs that release everything. He helps me sit up and pulls my body into his so I’m sitting sideways across his lap, his arms hold me so tight, supporting me, ensuring my safety. He buries his nose in the side of my neck as we cling to one another.

“Zander’s safe. He’s inside. Jax is keeping the boys away so they don’t know—don’t see—what happened. He called Avery to come be with Zander. His therapist is on the way to come help him if he needs it,” he tells me, knowing all of the worries I’d have and assuaging them with every word he speaks. “Are you—where do you hurt?”