He looks from me to my aunt, and the muscle in his square jaw moves.
I’ve never seen my aunt this way. “Winnie, maybe you should put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”
“I don’t need your protection, asshole.”
“Beto?” A scuff of shoes on the driveway draws my attention, and a shadowy figure jogs up. “Chris told me he saw them—”
“Stay back, Mateo.” Beto’s eyes haven’t left my aunt’s, and he’s holding one hand out, stepping slowly down the stairs.
“He tried to kill you.” Mateo’s eyes land on mine, and he whips out a pistol.
“No!” Angel screams, throwing her body against mine, chest to chest.
A sharp pop cuts the night, and the scene shifts into fast motion as my whole world falls apart. Angel drops, sending us both to the ground.
My arms tighten around her, and we land on the hard stone. For a split second, I’m disoriented.
“Angel?” Her body is heavy, and fear seizes my heart.
She’s not moving. Warm wetness is on my hands. I remember this… I know what it is.
Blood.
“Call 911!” My voice breaks.
“Oh my God,” Winnie lowers the shotgun and pulls a phone from her robe. “911? We need an ambulance, immediately. A young lady’s been shot. Please hurry.”
“Angel?” I’m holding her, rocking her.
“Deacon?” Angel’s eyes squeeze, and she lets out a soft cry. “It hurts…”
A clatter of metal on stone, and Mateo watches us dumbfounded.
“Mateo!” I shout. “Look at me…” My voice crackles with controlled rage. “I will find you. I will finish you.”
Now I have hate.
He takes a step back then turns and runs, disappearing into the night.
Beto drops to his knees. “Carmie?” He lifts his sister’s limp hand. “Mija…”
My gaze is fixed on Angel. “You did this.”
“No…” He shakes his head, moving aside as Winnie appears, holding a thick towel.
“Press this into the wound.” Her face is white as a sheet. “EMS is on the way.”
I take the towel, holding it against Angel’s back, securing it with my arms. “I’m here, baby. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.”
Her body shudders, and my arms tighten around her, applying pressure, trying to stop the bleeding. “I can’t feel my arm…”
“Don’t try to talk.”
“I wanted to take you to Mexico.” She trembles, and I rock her, hugging her.
Lowering my head, I put my lips against her cheek. “What?”
“I wanted you to see the mountains…” Her voice trails off.