Incredibly, the danger incensed him. He advanced, faster now. Fast enough for Rae to glimpse the damage to Quinn’s face—the beating that had rendered him unconscious. The blood oozing from his slackened lips. Wisps of fury ran through her.
Mik roared, “You can’t disrespect me. Put it down, or I’ll teach you a lesson.”
Fear caught Rae in a desperate hold. The instinct to run was nearly overpowering.
No.
If she gave in to the fear, there was no telling what Mik would do next. She could flee the danger he represented. But what about Quinn? His life rested in her hands.
Near the sixth tree, Mik let the boy go. And came faster. There wasn’t much time now, and Rae stood transfixed. Between fear and anger, her pulse beating out of rhythm.
Griffin’s words ricocheted through her.
I’ll kill him.
In a two-fisted hold, she aimed the gun at Mik’s chest. At the center, where his cold heart was beating. Mik was a feral animal. Rabid and deadly. She didn’t need Griffin to take him down.
She’d do the job.
Beneath Hester’s twinkling lights, Quinn’s head lifted from the snow. Vomit heaved from his lips. His father was still advancing, nearing Rae, when the boy’s frightened gaze found hers.
Rae’s mind suddenly cooled. Went placid like the river-water gray of Griffin’s eyes.
With the skill of a born marksman, she moved her aim a fraction higher. Slightly to the left. Away from the center of Mik’s chest.
Guns are killing machines. Even the desire to bring injury can result in death. A person can bleed out from a gunshot wound quickly. For a fleeting second, Rae lifted her gaze heavenward. Mama, help me. Rae knew there were no guarantees.
Moving fast, Mik raised his fists.
She pulled the trigger.
The bullet found his flesh, threw him backward. His arms flailed out. Snow exploded around him as he fell onto his back.
“Rae!”
Her father limped out the mudroom door. Had he called the police? Rae perked her ears, desperate to detect the shrill call of sirens—and heard nothing.
She didn’t know if Mik still posed a danger. “Dad, stay back,” she roared.
Her command froze Connor in place.
Racing to Mik’s side, she cried out with relief. He wasn’t moving. Dread lowered her to her knees. Beneath his shoulder, the pool of blood was growing.
Tearing off her coat, Rae staunched the bleeding. Quinn was sitting up now, his eyes wild with terror.
She darted a quick glance. “Quinn, I need you to be brave.” She colored her voice with affection, hoping to steady him.
He began trembling uncontrollably. On a whimper, he swiped at the blood on his face.
“Quinn! Look at me. It’s okay, baby. I’m here. You’re safe. Where’s your phone?”
His eyes found the pool of blood inking the snow. With understanding, he searched his pockets. Rae’s hands were sticky with blood. Mik’s eyes were closed; his lips were bluish.
Quinn held up his phone.
“Dial 911. Now.” Turning, she located her father, still awaiting her signal to approach.
“Dad, can you help Quinn to the house? Can you walk?”
He nodded.
As they limped away together, she pressed harder on Mik’s shoulder. He groaned. She’d hit him somewhere in the upper chest, near the shoulder.
“Mik, wake up! Damn it—do it now!”
His eyelids fluttered.
Police and paramedics converged on the farm. Mik was taken to the county’s Mercy Hospital in grave condition. The ambulance sped away from the property, the sirens screaming into the night.
The sheriff was in the kitchen with Connor, listening to the account. An officer took notes. Thankfully her father had suffered only minor injuries, allowing Rae to concentrate her efforts on calming down Quinn.
His eyes bruised and his lips swelling, he’d begun shaking again.
On the couch, Rae slowly rocked him. He was curled up at her side, his bloodied face tucked into the crook of her arm. For a boy nearly her height, he seemed much smaller.
An officer with salt-and-pepper hair approached. He seemed hesitant to disturb them.
“He should go to Mercy’s ER,” the officer told her. “The sheriff called in for a second ambulance.” His pitying gaze skipped across Quinn’s huddled form and back to her. “Would you rather I drive you in?”
“There’s no need. But thanks.” She watched headlights arc across the yard. “We have a ride.”
She heard someone crash through the door. With relief, her gaze caught Griffin’s.