I swallowed past the lump in my throat while thinking about the what-ifs. What if they’d gone inside with Gramps when nobody was with him? What if they’d hurt Jett when he walked out? What if they still were going to hurt them both? What if nobody got to them in time and it was all my fault?
“Ruby, breathe. Take a deep breath.” Keys jingled and it sounded like Lyric was running. “I’m on my way there now, but I don’t want you getting in an accident on your way.”
He was right but I could barely do what he asked. I was panicking. But I tried because I desperately needed to get home and I was a lot farther away than I wished to be.
“Can you tell me any more about the guys or where they are now?” There was an edge to Lyric’s voice but he also sounded completely in control and that helped bring the crazy thinking exploding in my head down a notch.
I finally took a couple of big, deep breaths that echoed through the speakers and throughout the car. I heard Lyric mumble, “Good girl.”
“Jett said he only saw two guys when he first walked out and he took off to the house to get to Gramps. I didn’t get a lot because I told him I had to call someone. And that’s when I dialed you. But—”
“But what?”
I bit the side of my cheek wondering if I should mention the other part of what Jett had said. Grandpa wouldn’t get in trouble if it is his property, right? I asked myself the question and decided to finish what I was saying.
“Jett said when he’d gotten in the house and told Grandpa men were outside looking for me, that he grabbed his shotgun and was trying to go outside. I told him to keep him in.”
I heard a quick intake of breath and then, “Oh shit.”
My thoughts exactly.
“Listen, I need to call 911 and I want to call Braxton. I’m almost at your place. Promise me you won’t come onto the property until I call you and tell you it's safe.”
Shit. Had he lost his mind?
“Lyric, no. I have to get to them. I can’t promise that.”
“Ruby.” My name came through the line in a pleading tone.
How could he ask me that? I knew he was doing his job but I had to see my family and I needed to do it as fast as possible. Another bout of panic was taking hold.
“Call who you need. I’m sorry.” I hit the button and disconnected the call. Then I stomped on the accelerator and prayed.
* * *
It waslike a scene out of a movie.
I pulled in against Lyrics orders. And a little too fast, I might add.
Getting home had felt like it had taken an eternity but it looked like I hadn’t been far behind Lyric, a few squad cars, and some of theNo Surrenderguys. How they got there so fast or why they’d come I wasn’t sure.
Swirling lights from the police cruisers illuminated the dark night in red and blue. Men were fanning out around something in the yard that I couldn’t quite make out yet at that point, while Jett stood in the doorway with my grandfather poised on the porch, shotgun by his side, looking like he’d just stepped out of an old western show.
My air swooshed from my lungs at the sight of Gramps.
I’d told Lyric and theNo Surrendermen that while Gramps was getting on in years, when push came to shove he wouldn’t back down. After we talked earlier that evening about bringing in the guys to install a security system and advise on any other measures they felt we might need, he’d made it clear that while he would support my decision, he also could protect his kids. And that nobody, and he meant nobody, would hurt a hair on our heads or mess with our home.
He was making that statement loud and clear right then.
When I jumped from the car, I could hear someone yelling, “That old man is crazy!” When I ran closer I then saw what everyone was surrounding. Lyric had a man pinned to the ground and his arms pulled behind his back. My head swirled as I glanced around. My gaze went back to Lyric and his gaze met mine.
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking but it was clear there was more than one emotion blazing in his eyes. There wasn’t time to analyze it because a few things happened all at once.
A cop approached Lyric to take over and cuff the guy on the ground just as the man bucked up to try and get away. That was when a loud gunshot pierced the air. The police drew weapons, Lyric pressed the man back to the ground while he yelled at everyone to hold fire, and I heard Jett’s crazed voice yelling at Grandpa.
“Don’t move a damn muscle!” Gramps hollered.
When I looked over, his shotgun was poised back in his arms, aimed at the man who threatened not only his property but his family. He’d warned me he wouldn’t put up with any shit but fear raced through my body that someone would find him a threat since he had the gun.
