Family Ties (Ashby Crime Family)

“And what? You’ll stay here? You think that dirty fucking biker gives a shit about you? That you’re more than a cheap, easy fuck to him?”

“Don’t you even talk about Charlie. You have no idea…”

And before I could finish my sentence, he kicked the screen door and screamed, “Let me in, bitch!”

I fell back, my heart pounding from surprise or fear I couldn’t tell. It all fell apart in the next moment, the relative peace between us, the attempt at civility.

Ronan erupted like a volcano, cursing at me to open the door, kicking and pounding on the screen with such violence the latch gave way and before I knew it, he was upon me, pinning me against the wall in the entry way.

“Fuck!” he said, his sour breath in my face. “We don’t have time for your bullshit, Savannah. We have to get out of here. Now! Do you hear me?”

Ronan reached for me, and at his touch, I froze. His hand on my skin made me realize he was truly no longer my father. In that moment, I was scared—no—I was fucking terrified. From the way he slammed me against the wall, as though I were a rag doll he could just throw around, I knew he had some evil purpose for me. I was defenseless, as weak and helpless as I had been with Roadkill.

Only this time, I wasn’t high.

I had to protect myself. I didn’t know what had gotten into him, but Ronan was out for blood. Mine.

I pushed away from him and ran for the living room. Not fast enough. He yanked me by my hair and shoved me to the ground.

“You comin’ with me or do I have to beat the shit out of you first?” he growled.

Was this really my father? He was bigger than me, but I was younger and had some of my strength back. I kicked and fought and rolled away from him. His fist came down hard on my shoulder, but I punched back, landing a blow to his eye that stunned him long enough for me to get to my knees.

“You bitch!” he screamed across the room. “You’d do that to your father?”

He was out of control and coming for me. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed the first object within reach, a small bowl on the hall table. I hurled it at him but it missed, crashing to the floor and spraying Ronan with glass.

I tried to run, but he caught my shirt. I yanked out of his grasp and took a step back. “Get your fucking hands off me!” I shouted.

“We don’t have time to fight about this,” he snarled. He was worried, which meant he was ruthless. And that spelled danger for me.

“No!” I said, this time freeing myself from his meaty hold. “How about you fuck off right now and don’t come back.”

“Or what?” he snarled. His brown eyes filled with an ugly laughter and that only enraged me even more. “What are you gonna do, daughter, if I don’t fuck right off?” He advanced on me, using his swollen belly and broad chest to intimidate me. And then he came close, raising his fist.

My heart pumped terror throughout my body. I knew what Ronan did to people who crossed him. I took another step backward and almost fell against the sofa. And there was my chance. But could I pull it off? Did I have the nerve? Was there another way?

“Don’t do this, Ronan. Please.”

“You had your chance, Savannah. You’re a fucking prissy bitch. And now you have to take what’s coming to you.”

Those words echoed in my head, bouncing around like one of those metal fucking pinball games. What was coming to me? I knew what that meant. I may not come out of this alive.

I launched myself on to the sofa, a move that caught Ronan by surprise. I reached for the end table and groped the underside. It happened in a flash.

Got it. The nine millimeter. It was an unfamiliar weight in my hands, but I got used to it in a hurry.

“Don’t take another fucking step, Ronan,” I warned.

He laughed, actually laughed as I raised the gun and aimed it at him. My hands shook, sure, but I was rock solid. Mostly.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He shook his head, smiling as if he was talking to one of his old ass gangster friends. He reached into his breast pocket and I saw the glint of metal.

“We’ll see,” I said, surprising myself with my courage. “Don’t take another step.”

His pistol was in full view when he advanced on me. I squeezed the trigger, barely grazing his left bicep. I prayed that would stop him.

It didn’t.

He took another step forward, frightening me with his eyes. I had no choice. I sucked in a deep breath the way Brendan had taught me and squeezed the trigger on the exhale. This time the hit landed dead center; a red circle formed against the bright white of his shirt.