"Police are already on their way,” Sandra gasped, somewhat unnecessarily, considering the sirens grew louder. “Someone's trying to hurt us. They hit our car and ran us off the road?—"
Manuel grabbed a shotgun from a rack by the door, his face transforming into something hard and dangerous. The gentle electrician had become a guardian defending his territory. "Jose, keep the kids and women down. Anyone who wants to hurt them is gonna have to go through me first."
Through the kitchen window, Sandra could see the black pickup truck bouncing across the edge of the field, heading directly for the Garcia house. Her blood ran cold as she realized their pursuer wasn't intimidated by witnesses or the sound of approaching sirens.
Manuel stepped onto his back porch, shotgun raised with the confidence of a man who knew how to use it. "That's far enough!" he shouted, his voice carrying the authority of a landowner defending his own ground. "You're trespassing on private property! Back off, or I'll blow a hole in your engine block!"
Jose’s arm was still protectively around Emma's shoulders while his body shielded Toby. "It's going to be okay," he told both kids quietly, his calm voice helping to settle their panic. "My dad won't let anyone hurt you."
Sandra’s gaze swung between the protected kids and the black truck still menacingly sitting in the Garcias’ yard. The truck's engine idled, but whoever was inside seemed to be reconsidering their options in the face of an armed landowner and the growing wail of sirens.
Finally, multiple sheriff vehicles converged on the farm, their sirens still screaming. Sandra peeked around the counter to lookout the window. She could see flashing lights as they surrounded the truck. Deputies alighted, weapons drawn, all focused on the pickup. She shook with relief and adrenaline, but she managed to whisper, "It's going to be okay now. It's going to be okay."
An official SUV slid to a stop in the yard with a spray of gravel, followed immediately by an unmarked DTF vehicle that Sandra recognized. Her heart leaped as she saw Terry spring from the seat before the car had fully stopped, his service weapon drawn and his face a mask of controlled fury.
He'd never looked more beautiful to her than he did at that moment… strong, capable, and absolutely determined to protect his family.
"Sheriff's department! Exit the vehicle with your hands visible!" The commands echoed across the yard as deputies took tactical positions around the black pickup, their weapons trained on the cab.
Sandra watched in fascination as the truck's door opened and a figure emerged with hands raised. Even from the kitchen window, she could see that it was someone she didn't recognize. It wasn’t Harrison Blackwood, nor his son, Harry, but a stranger whose face meant nothing to her.
She couldn't take her eyes off the deputies racing forward, cuffing the driver while still shouting orders. "Your dad is here. We're safe," she whispered to Emma and Toby, hoping her heart would finally cease its frantic pounding as she turned her full attention back to the children.
They were safe. They were alive. And Terry was here.
48
Terry's heart hammered against his ribs as they turned onto the gravel lane leading to the house, dust and stones flying behind their racing vehicles. Through the windshield, he could see the white house in the distance, and his blood turned to ice when he spotted figures running across the open yard.
Two men were helping Sandra and his children race toward the house, and for a second, he had to ascertain they were helping, not chasing. His throat constricted with sharp relief. But behind the running figures, a dark pickup truck was careening wildly across the yard, tearing up the carefully maintained lawn like a predator refusing to abandon its hunt.
The deputies who had just arrived surrounded the truck, taking their positions with drawn weapons and shouting orders. One fired into the pickup's front tire, causing it to explode.
Terry was out of the SUV, his boots hitting gravel. His service weapon was drawn and ready as he sprinted toward the truck, adrenaline flooding his system with the white-hot fury of a man whose family had been threatened.
The deputies were already shouting commands for the driver to exit, their weapons trained on the cab. The door opened, allowing a man to slide down from behind the wheel withhis hands raised. Dark hair and dark eyes, with gang symbols tattooed over his knuckles and the front of his neck.
As anger raged through Terry's blood, he forced himself to step back and allow the deputies to do their job. He watched through narrowed eyes as they cuffed the driver. As they read the driver his rights, Terry's attention shifted toward the house where everything that mattered waited for him. He holstered his weapon and raced toward the back door, his heart still pounding with the desperate need to see his children with his own eyes, to touch them and know they were real and safe.
Manuel and Carmen Garcia stood on their back porch, their faces reflecting the same wide-eyed concern that came from having their peaceful afternoon shattered by violence. But Manuel's weathered features were hard with protective anger, his hands still gripping the shotgun he'd used to defend Terry's family like his own.
Terry's gaze immediately found his children through the screen door. Emma and Sandra were tucked behind Jose, whose arms were spread out like a shield. Toby's eyes were wide with what looked like an adrenaline rush, but a smile was already cracking through the shock on his young face.
"Dad!" Both kids broke away from their protectors and launched themselves at Terry, their bodies colliding with his chest with enough force to make him stagger backward. He wrapped his arms around them, feeling Emma's body shake with delayed reaction while Toby shouted with breathless excitement, "Dad, did you see that? We got here just in time! And Mr. Garcia threatened to shoot the driver! That was awesome!"
Terry could think of other words to describe the events, like terrifying, devastating, and life-altering, but hearing his son speak with such resilient normalcy caused a choked laugh to erupt from his chest. "Got other words to call what happened, Son, but thank God you're okay," he whispered, trying to steadyhis own racing heartbeat while reveling in the solid weight of his children in his arms.
They were alive and safe. Nothing else in the world mattered. He looked over their heads, seeing Sandra smiling at him. He lifted one arm, and she hurried over, joining their family embrace. Her arms wrapped around all of them with the fierce protectiveness of a mother bear. "We're fine," she assured him, her voice shaky but strong with the kind of courage that had kept his children alive. "The kids were so brave, Terry. They were amazing."
Terry wanted to stay frozen at this moment forever, holding his family while the rest of the world disappeared. But Jeremy's voice from the doorway pulled him reluctantly back to the reality of unfinished business.
"Captain?"
Terry hated to turn away from his family, but he looked up at his detective while keeping his arms protectively around Emma and Toby.
"The guy isn't talking, other than to say he was just following orders," Jeremy reported, his voice grim with professional frustration. “Said he was hired to follow the woman and, if he got the chance, to cause an accident.”
"Son of a bitch," Terry cursed under his breath, the cop in him already analyzing the implications.
