McCoy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 3)

No.

It was familiar.

It was Belle.

My mouth opened to call to her, to ask if she was alright, or what she was up to. But something forced my lips to close again. The same thing made me suddenly frozen in place, too.

All I could do was stand there, looking at my sister's back that was mostly cast in shadows thanks to the darkened front room.

There was something strange about her stance, the way her legs were braced wide, the way her shoulders were leaning forward. Almost as if something was in front of her.

But what?

One of the animals?

No.

Why would she be so tense then?

"Open your pretty mouth," she said, the coldness in her voice sending a shiver through my body as my mind raced to try to make those words make sense, to put them into some sort of context. "Come on, bitch, you know you want it," she went on, and my stomach twisted hard as pieces started to fall into place. It was also right then that I made out another shadowed figure in the front room. A man kneeling in front of her. "Open your mouth, so I can fuck it," she demanded, voice brutal. "Open your fucking mouth," she growled, caught up in her own head, in her own memories, in her own trauma.

It had to have been Anton in front of her, right?

Had he gotten in, and she'd seen?

Had she gone to confront him?

To exact revenge?

"Belle..." I choked out, something inside me saying things were really, really not good right that moment.

But it was almost the same exact time that her finger must have slipped to the trigger, because there was the unmistakable sound of a bullet exploding from a gun, making me jump and shriek.

I'd say it was all of five or ten seconds before men were coming in from every direction, in varying stages of dress and consciousness, but all of them with guns drawn.

"Shy!" McCoy yelled, running up behind me, yanking my body half behind his as he reached into the living room, and flicked on the light.

"Jesus Christ," Alaric mumbled at whatever was in front of him.

"No, babe, don't look," McCoy demanded, trying to shove me behind him as I moved out.

But I had to look.

The second my gaze slipped past McCoy toward where my sister was still standing in the middle of the living room with a gun in her hand, her body shaking, I saw it.

Him.

I saw him.

The body of Anton sprawled on the floor, missing a decent chunk of the top of his head.

Bile sloshed around my stomach and rose up, making me need to close my eyes for a moment as I took slow, deep breaths. In doing so, though, I couldn't help but breathe in the metallic scent of blood.

"Belle, give me the gun," Alaric demanded, voice coaxing, yet firm.

"The fuck is..." Huck started, coming in from his place, pushing past me, momentarily blocking my view. "Oh, shit. Alright. Good. One less fucking problem," he mumbled as he took a step forward, going to reach for the gun.

But Belle was clearly still having a moment because she raised it, aimed it.

"Whoa, Belle. Easy. You don't want to shoot me."

"I mean, sometimes I want to shoot you, boss man," Eddie called in, getting a snort from Remy. "So, you know, maybe she does. What? I'm not saying it's okay. I'm saying you can be a dick, man."

"Not helping," Huck mumbled, holding his hands up.

I wasn't a brave woman. I was okay with that. I wasn't someone who was going to try to save the day. What I was, though, was someone who would do whatever it took to save her little sister. Every single time. Even if all I was doing was saving her from herself, and from the demons in her own head.

"Hey," I said, voice soft, moving from McCoy's side, pushing his hand away when he tried to reach for me. I would appreciate his desire to protect me later. Right then, I needed to get a gun away from my sister. "Can I have that?" I asked, pointing toward the gun. "You don't need it anymore, right? You did it. You're safe now. They're all gone. They can't ever get near you or Betty again."

"Or you," Belle muttered, gaze lifting, finding mine.

I don't know what I expected to see there. I guess tears or horror, something that matched up with the fact that she'd just put a bullet in a man's head.

That wasn't what was there, though.

No.

What was there was a sort of ferocity I never would have expected coming from the girl I'd always known as soft and sweet and shy.

"Yeah," I agreed, voice a bit tight. "Or me. They can't touch any of us again. So you don't need that anymore right now," I told her, reaching for the top of the gun. I was a little surprised, given the look in her eyes, that she released it, and let me hand it off to Huck. "Come on, let's go in the kitchen," I said, reaching for her hand, finding it oddly cool and steady. Mine felt shaky at best right then as I drew her past the men and into the kitchen, where I pressed her into one of the chairs at the table.