Page 89 of Sheltered

She shook her head. “That’s not my problem. I wasn’t involved in my father’s business, but there I was, having to suffer the consequences of what happened. You made a choice to get involved with that guy, and now you’ll suffer the consequences. It’s just the way it is. You’re the unfortunate one who gets to be the first fatality.”

I wondered if I could run.

Could I get away? Could I make it to the back room and barricade myself in before she had the chance to pull the trigger?

Before I could make that determination, it happened.

The sound of gunfire rang in my ears as pain seared through my leg. I screamed, feeling like I was moving in slow motion as another shot rang out. I’d already been moving down into a crouched position to cradle my leg as it gave out when the side of my head began exploding with pain.

I collapsed completely on the floor, and barely five seconds later, Laura was gone as the blood poured out of my body.

Blaze

There was nothing quite like the feeling of utter helplessness. As I raced out of the Harper Security Ops office, to my truck, and through the streets of Steel Ridge toward Harlow’s salon, I only felt an overwhelming sense of powerlessness.

I had no choice but to sit with it and pray that my instincts were wrong.

I knew they wouldn’t be, though.

What I should have been doing was praying that it wouldn’t be too bad, that I’d get there in time to save her. I should have been preparing myself for whatever horror I would see when I arrived at Harlow’s salon.

Because after I attempted a third call to Harlow, once I got into my truck and started driving there, I finally allowed the reality to settle in.

This wasn’t going to be good.

The words on that note continued to replay in my mind—one will be gone before the day is done—and without even confirming my worst instincts first, it took everything in me not to get sick.

Despite how fast I’d been driving, it seemed to take longer than usual to get to Harlow’s salon. Forrest, Huck, and Greyson all pulled up behind me, prepared to enter this situation with me, regardless of what we’d find.

The fact there wasn’t any sign of forced entry at the salon should have been enough to allow me to breathe a sigh of relief, but it wasn’t. Because I could see from my vantage point that the lights were still on in her salon, and she normally would have had everything closed by now.

What if someone came in and had taken her? Where would I find her? Would I be able to get to her on time?

I barely turned off my truck before getting out and racing toward the front door of the salon. The second I swung the door open and took in the scene, I came to a grinding halt.

This couldn’t be right.

This couldn’t be how it ended.

“No,” I croaked, feeling the bile rise in my throat.

I felt Forrest’s presence behind me, as I heard him clip, “Fuck.”

That was it.

The next thing I knew, I flew across the room to where Harlow was slumped on the ground, her back resting against the counter.

Blood was everywhere, and she was unconscious.

“Harlow,” I called out as I made it over to her. “Harlow, baby, please wake up. Talk to me.”

“It looks like her leg and her head,” Forrest declared.

Her head.

She had a bullet wound in her head.

I had to ignore it. I had to ignore the undeniable rage threatening to spill out of me. I had to focus on what I could do for Harlow.