Steven turned over out of Ryan’s reach and lay on his back, struggling for air. The minute his eyes locked on Michael, he gasped out loud.
“M-Michael? Is that you, son?”
“You. You are not my father.”
Steven’s face paled. “You have my blood running through your veins, boy. You can’t deny that.” He smiled with wicked satisfaction.
“But I’m nothing like you. And you hated that.” Michael’s chest rose and fell heavily.
“It’s your mother’s fault. She kept you from me. I would have been there for you. But she stole you away.” Steven grimaced in pain. “I’ve been looking for you ever since.”
“Michael, put the gun down,” Ryan said, inching his way further into the hall. He didn’t want the guilt of killing his father to haunt Michael forever.
“It’s all right, Ryan. I know what I’m doing. Something I should have done years ago. I should have stopped him then. The first time I saw him strike my mom.” Michael’s voice cracked with raw emotion, his red eyes, teary but focused.
“No, Michael. This is not what you want.” Ryan pleaded with him.
“So, you going to listen to the cop, son?” Steven was struggling to stay in control. Both hands covered his stomach where the bullet exited. “You already shot me in the back. You going to run like a coward, too? Like before. Like your worthless mother did?” Steve was goading him on. He wanted him to kill him. Michael would have to live with the idea that he was exactly like his father and Steven wouldn’t be happier about it.
“No. This is not right.” Michael dropped both hands to his side, the gun dangling loosely in his right, but still engaged. “I’m no killer.”
“No. You’re a coward, Michael. Just as you were all those years ago. Couldn’t save your mother back then and you won’t be able to save her now either.”
Steven managed to raise his gun to the closed door in front of them and before Ryan understood what was running through his mind, the gun went off, firing until the clip was completely empty.
Michael stood petrified. He’d figured it out. But too late.
“No!” Michael ran toward the door as Steven’s head fell back to the ground and he laughed. “Mom? Nicholas?”
Michael tried to pass over Steven on his way to the door, but Steven grabbed his foot, pulling him down on top of him. Ryan’s gut wrenched at the site of the gun in Steven’s right hand as he lifted it toward Michael. But Michael’s reflexes were quicker. His own gun went up against Steven’s chest, and off before the next breath could be taken by anyone.
“I’m not your son,” Michael gasped, rolling off of Steven to the floor. “My real father’s dead.”
***
Makayla’s heart lurched at the sound of the first gunshot. She’d heard voices. But couldn’t distinguish if they were friendly or just more of Steven’s goons showing up. He’d called them. They were supposed to meet him. But they were late. And that never happened. At least not unless things had taken a toll for the worse.
That explained Steven’s actions. Why he’d killed Ricky. He didn’t need him anymore. Didn’t need
them
anymore. She knew with every ounce of blood running through her veins Steven’s plans ended right there and right now. He planned to take them all down with him.
Another gunshot echoed in the hallway. Muffled somehow.
“Nicholas, get down,” she whispered as silence settled in the next room. “Stay down.” She leaned against the door trying to hear, trying to figure out what was going on.
For several seconds, only Steven’s low satanic tone reached her ears. And then the earth shattered beneath her feet. Bullets penetrated the door like nails, sending splinters of wood flying all around her.
She felt the pain before she realized she’d been hit, before the reality of what Steven had done settled into her brain.
“Mom!” Nicholas screamed, scrambling from behind the hospital bed.
“No! Stay put. Mommy’s fine.” Her side and shoulder throbbing with pain, she slid down the door, pushing herself to the side in front of a heavy metal shelf full of medical supplies.
“Stay.” Her eyes blurred, her shoulder on fire, pain registering in her hip as well.
How many times had she been hit?
Oh dear, God. Don’t let me die.
Not here in front of Nicholas.
Not like this.
The world was crashing down around her. Nicholas’ sobs reverberated through her entire body, but he stayed. Just like she told him to. She wanted to hold him, to assure him everything would be all right. But she couldn’t. And as the darkness crept in, all she could do was hold out a trembling hand to keep him away, to keep him safe.
When her hand finally became too heavy and fell, her entire world caved in.
It was then the darkness swallowed her whole.
Ryan’s heart lodged halfway up his throat before Steven fell back to the ground, lifeless. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He grabbed his side, working to pull himself up off the floor. He couldn’t think…couldn’t breathe. If Makayla or Nicholas stood on the other side of the door, their chances would be slim. There had been no time to stop the madness. One second the gun was being pointed at his head and the next it was sending round after round into the door.
“Michael. Put the gun down, son.” Ryan met Michael’s gaze. The young man’s limp body leaned against the wall for support, his empty expression turning Ryan’s blood cold.
“Michael. It’s over.”
Heavy tear filled eyes registered understanding as Michael lowered his weapon, letting it fall to the floor at his feet. “I didn’t mean…I had to.” Then he rushed to the closed door, pushing, shoving, sobbing.
“Mom? Nicholas? Are you in there? Open the door. Please tell me you’re okay.” Panic whipped through the air. Men swarmed the hallway, retrieving the gun, checking Steven’s condition, and rendering Ryan aid. But all eyes and thought remained on what lay behind the door. Had they even been alive to begin with? Or did the spray of bullets do the job?
An agent with a crowbar slid to the front, popping the metal between the door jam and the door. One, two, three pulls and the lock gave way.
Slowly, the door was opened revealing what appeared to be a war zone. The curtains, the broken windowpanes, the scattered debris from the door and the blood streaking the floor sent Ryan into a frenzy.
“Makayla? Nicholas? Answer me.” Two men struggle to hold him back, to keep him from making his injuries worse.
“Daddy?” The soft voice floated through the air, and racked through his entire body. “Nicholas, where are you?”
“Mommy said to stay here.” The boy answered between sobs. “I listened good. I did what you told me.” Another sob, heavier this time. “She’s hurt bad, Daddy. Please help her. Please don’t let her die.”
When Ryan limped through the door, the sight that met him threatened his sanity. Makayla lay in Nicholas’ lap. His tiny fingers wiping the blood from her mouth.
“Oh, dear God! Don’t take her now.” His throat ached with emotion as he lowered himself to her side.
“Makayla? Honey, can you hear me?” Ryan pulled Nicholas to his chest and hugged him, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm and shoulder from the effort. Then he passed him off to Michael.
“Take him.” He reached up and squeezed Michael’s hand.
“No.” Michael’s eyes mirrored his own pain. “It can’t end like this.”
“Her heartbeat is still strong. She’s a fighter.” He nodded to emphasis his point.
Michael choked back a knot of raw agony and pulled Nicholas up close to his chest. “Please don’t let her die. Please tell me she’s going to be okay.”
Ryan lowered his head. That was one promise he couldn’t make.
Ryan held onto Makayla with all the strength he had left, begging God not to take her. He’d already let Jennifer and his unborn son go all those years ago. Not that he had or ever would fully recover that loss. But to take these boy’s’ mother now, after all this…
No. He wouldn’t believe it.
“Makayla, you hang on. You stay with us. You hear me?”
When the first bullet hit, Makayla wasn’t sure what the pain was. She’d tried to deny it, tried to stay brave for Nicholas even after the second one grazed her hip. But she’d lost consciousness pretty fast. She had no idea how much blood she’d lost or what happened to her son.
That was the worst part. Where was Nicholas?
Light danced over her closed lids, an overly sanitized smell attacking her nostrils. With every move, pain ripped through her insides. But it was the annoying beeping that finally clued her into where she was.
The truth hit her like a ton of bricks and she tried to pry open her eyes. But they felt glued shut. Just like her mouth. Dry. Pasty. Weird.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Keep trying.”
It was Ryan’s voice. She could feel his hand on her arm, his heat against her skin. He was so close she could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave and she forced her mind to concentrate harder.
She attempted to lubricate her lips and managed to slip the tip of her tongue over the bottom one. But the action had little effect. Her tongue too was bone dry.
“She’s awake.” A stranger’s voice. A woman she’d never heard before.
“I told you she was strong.” Ryan spoke again, but this time she could tell he’d turned away from her. He was assuring someone else.
“Come on, Makayla. Open those beautiful eyes. You have visitors.”
Another hand registered on her arm. But it felt smaller, a bit clammy and she instantly recognized it.
“Ni…las.” Her throat cracked, her eyes fluttering.
“Mommy?” It was his tiny voice that gave her the extra determination she needed. With one last giant effort, she pried her lids from her cheeks and found herself staring into his smiling face. Nicholas was sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg folded underneath him, the other dangling off the side.
“Hi, Mommy. Daddy said it wouldn’t be much longer.”
“Longer?” Her brain struggled to assess time and place. She was definitely in a hospital room. Flowers, balloons and cards covered every inch. But what day was it? She had a feeling the answer would surprise her.
Her eyes lifted to meet Ryan’s, his face creased with fatigue. A dark blue sling hung over his shoulder, supporting his left arm, white gauze bandages peeking out from beneath his shirt.
“Hey, there. How are you feeling?” His warm hand squeezed her wrist, sending chills down her scalp. Well, feeling was a good sign, wasn’t it?
She had the most wonderful men in her life.
Forcing a smile, she tried to talk, but he placed a warm finger against her lips. “No. You take it easy. Save your strength. You’re going to need it.” His eyes twinkled with that boyish mischief she loved so much.
She crinkled her nose in confusion.
“The boys and I have a request when you’ve made a full recovery. We’ve decided it’s been long enough.”
Still no inkling of what he was talking about.
Ryan placed Nicholas on the floor as Michael came to stand at the foot of her bed. All three of them smiled at her and she knew they were up to no good. They were about to gang up on her. She felt a grin try to ease over the tight lines of her mouth. Nothing had changed.
Ryan leaned in close, his hand gently stroking her cheek as he whispered, “We’re tired of sharing you.”
What the heck was that supposed to mean? Did they want her to quit working for the women’s crisis center? Surely not. Her volunteer work helped her feel like she was making a difference. That her struggles hadn’t been for nothing, but prepared her for a better purpose.
“With who?” Had they all lost their minds? She wanted, no needed, to continue.
“We want…” He didn’t get a chance to finish. Nicholas climbed back onto the bed, his face covered with an excited grin. “I want a baby sister!”
“Me too,” Michael chimed in.
“Me three,” Ryan said, his voice all but a soft whisper. Then he corrected. “I mean baby daughter.”
“Have you all gone crazy?” Laughter filled the room and she knew her face must be a humorous sight. They had all lost their minds. She was in the hospital, for heaven’s sake. Then clarity hit.
Wait.
That was good news. Their request must mean she was expected to make a full recovery.
“No. We are all sane and very sure.”
A baby sister? A new baby in the house? And then the warmth of what that meant hit her. Ryan was willing to forgive and forget. To continue their life together. To make a future with her. Even after all she’d done, after all he’d had to go through.
Tears pooled in her eyes before trailing down her cheek. Deep down that’s exactly what she wanted too. To keep this precious family together. To add another member to love.
“Are those tears of joy?” Ryan’s eyes immediately turned concerned.
She lifted her hand to stroke the strong line of his jaw. “Yes.”