54

Pop! Pop!
I dropped and rolled, firing off another two shots towards the guard who’d taken position on one of the balconies. As if in slow motion, his body pitched forward, tumbling over the wooden railing. Christian had taken out a second man at the entrance.
The wind was whipping through the trees, the storm turning violent. There’d been tornado warnings, the lake churning to the point flooding had begun from the torrential downpour. And the fucking lightning refused to give up, the air full of electricity.
“This is getting bad,” Weston said as he crouched beside me.
“The storm or the round of sabotage?”
“Both. Like that night.”
He didn’t need to remind me of the storm in Kentucky.
Hissing, I glared at one of my fallen soldiers, the close shot nearly ripping off his face. Goddamn it. How had I allowed this to happen?
The one lesson that my father had tried to teach me was that when emotion was involved, mistakes were made. He’d known my entire life how emotional I was. No matter how many times he’d tried to beat it out of me, it had always returned.
He’d counted on the fact, knowing my lust for vengeance would cloud my judgment. Now, I risked losing the only thing that mattered to me.
Not business. Not money. No building could ever matter.
Only the single woman I’d been in love with my entire adult life.
“Are we going in?” he asked.
“Is there any other choice? Whatever happens, Ava comes out of this alive.”
Weston yanked out another magazine, replacing the one in his Beretta. “I’ll protect her with my life.”
I heard another round of gunfire, but I continued heading to the front door. My father didn’t want me killed. He wanted me to suffer first. The three of us wanted it over.
Still, I held the weapon in both hands, knowing what I’d find in the living room.
Christian and Weston moved beside me as we entered the room, both men pointing their weapons at my father.
As anticipated, he sat in one of the leather chairs with Ava in his lap, the barrel of his weapon pointed at her throat.
I casually glanced around the room, noticing Marty was leaning against the set of French doors, a smug look on his face. He’d incriminated his fellow soldier. I would enjoy keeping him on ice for a lengthy period of time, cutting off one extremity at a time until he bled out.
There was nothing worse than traitors in your own midst.
When I returned my full attention to my father, the same angst that I’d always felt crowded my system.
“You had Donavan killed.” I said the words in a matter-of-fact way, devoid of all emotion. I could tell I’d surprised him.
“He was a bad seed, although not nearly as much as you are. White trash.”
He was only trying to rile me. “I guess that doesn’t matter any longer. Does it?”
As he stroked Ava ‘s hair, she kept her eyes locked on mine. “You know. I was curious as to why you found this little bitch so tempting, enough to derail your life, but now I understand.”
She jerked her head away and he wrapped his other hand around her throat, squeezing just like he used to do with my mother. He’d almost strangled the life out of her several times.
I tensed, then felt Christian’s hand on my shoulder. If I didn’t control my emotions and my anger now, Ava would be the first victim in the room.
“This is between you and me,” I told him, although I knew that would only make him laugh.
He grinned, acting as if my house and everything inside belonged to him. “Did your mother ever tell you the truth?”
“That you were a pig?”
His laughter was the same as I remembered. He’d grown older, his white hair thinning, but he was still a powerful man. Yes, a true psychopath. “That you were a bastard child.”
The words were tossed out, but I sensed truth in them. “Is that so?”
“She had an affair with a fucking guard. A stupid fucking soldier. She didn’t think I knew. I tolerated you because that’s what she begged me to do. Then my real son tried to have me killed. Imagine that. My own flesh and blood wanting me dead while I was required to care for a worthless bastard.”
I sensed Weston shifting, moving to the side a few inches at a time. My father wasn’t paying any attention. He was enjoying being in a position to gloat. I couldn’t wait to carve out his heart before putting a bullet in his head. Maybe he thought I’d be upset by the news. Instead, it was a welcome relief.
My child wouldn’t be subject to the bad blood I thought I’d been born into. I caught the look in Ava ‘s eyes and growled. She was terrified.
“This worthless bastard is going to enjoy redefining my legacy and this beautiful woman is going to help me do it. She will bear my children, my heirs.”
“Fuck you,” she managed.
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do, bitch.”
There was a moment where I was able to see into my father’s mind and knew exactly what he had planned. In a split second, he aimed his weapon at my chest just as Ava thrust her elbow into his chest.
Pop!
As the bullet slammed into my shoulder, I was pitched backward. Marty reacted instantly, but Weston was too quick, unloading several shots into the man.
Ava screamed, trying to get away from my father’s tight hold.
Seconds later, the house went dark, another series of lightning bolts flashing across the sky.
I lunged forward, trying to get her into my arms, but my father’s hold remained. Scrambling closer, I threw myself on top of her, fighting my father’s hold on the weapon. He still had his hand wrapped around her throat. Anger unlike anything I’d ever experienced rushed into me. I grabbed my father’s arm and without hesitation, snapped his wrist. The cracking sound as bones were broken was followed by his angry howl.
“Take her!” I yelled as Christian appeared at my side.
He gathered her into his arms, dragging her away.
“No. No!” Her cries of anguish weren’t lost on me.
I punched my father several times. Then we pitched and rolled, both fighting for control. I bashed the weapon against his face, but he held on, our bodies twisting and turning.
Then…
Pop!