Every instinct I have snaps tight.
Laddie.
Emma gasps a raw, broken sound, and I swear I’ve never seen anyone run faster. She doesn’t look back. Not once. She just tears across the lawn toward the house as she’d happily take a bullet if it means getting to him.
“Emma! Slow down! Let me go first!” I shout, but it’s useless. She’s too far gone.
I push harder, angling myself toward her, trying to slide in front of her to get between her and the line of fire. I don’t even know where the shots are coming from. I just know I’m not letting anything hit her.
Gunfire pops again, closer this time, and Emma flinches but doesn’t stop.
Christ, I’m going to lose my mind.
We reach the front steps just as the tactical team is shouting commands over the chaos.
Smoke. Screams. The sound of a struggle deeper inside.
“Stay behind me,” I command.
But, no, she ducks under my arm and shoves herself into the doorway.
And I follow her inside.
I’m not letting her go alone.
Because that little boy was screaming for his mother.
He’s mine too.
The second we cross the threshold, it’s a warzone.
Shouting.
Gunfire somewhere in the back rooms.
Boots pounding against old floors.
The metallic sting of fear is sharp in the air.
Emma screams.“Laddie!”
A small body bursts around the corner at the end of the hallway, cheeks streaked with tears. One of the tactical guys reaches out to grab him, to pull him out of the line of fire, but he slips right past.
He’s tiny and terrified, and running for his life straight toward us.
“Mommy!”
Emma lunges forward, but I’m closer; I reach him first.
I scoop Laddie into my arms so fast he squeaks, clutching him tight against my chest. He fits there like he was made to fit there, his little hands fisting in my shirt, shaking.
“It’s okay, buddy. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” I breathe, adrenaline making my whole body tremble.
Emma reaches us a heartbeat later, eyes wild and frantic. She yanks Laddie right out of my arms, holding him so tight I can hear the air leave his lungs.
She’s crying.
He’s crying.
