I refuse to be a victim.
Lifting my leg, I kick him in the face and his head snaps back, and blood leaves his mouth. Looks like he bit his tongue. Good.
Darryl drags my body toward him and fumbles with his belt and zipper while his friend sways from the hit he just received. “You bitch. I’ll show you. I’ll show Dixie. No one can take from me.”
My hand wraps around the gun in my backpack, and I aim at his head and cock it. “Me either.”
He chuckles. “You don’t have the balls,” he says, running his hand up my bare leg. “You’re shaking.”
“I don’t have the balls,” I sneer, placing the barrel between his eyes. “I have so much more.”
Darryl doesn’t believe me. He raises his hand at me, but I’m done with people thinking they can abuse me whenever they want. I pull the trigger and immediately think of witnesses and turn my gun on his friend.
Bang.
Two bullets. Two wounds. Right between the eyes.
Blood drips from the small wounds as they pin me with their lifeless stares. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” What did I do? I gather my dirty clothes, shove them in my bag with the gun, and then I get dressed in the only clean pair of panties I have. I shove my legs through a pair of jeans and throw on another tank top. I have to hurry. Gunshots aren’t quiet. I need to stay calm. I can’t lose my shit right now. I just killed two men.
Fuck.
Three men including Trevor.
My hair is sticking to my shoulders, and I throw it up in a messy bun and step over their dead bodies. Before I leave, I decide to take. They were going to take from me, right? It’s only fair. I grab their wallets, take their money, and wipe my prints off everything. I look for my phone and see it next to the bed, turned off. I grab it and tuck it in the pocket on the side of my bag.
“That will the last time you underestimate a woman,” I say, stuffing their money into my back pocket.
Without another thought, I run out the door and put this damn western town behind me. I wonder if every place I go is cursed because I show up there.
Maybe leaving Isaac alone is what is best.
Chapter Seven
GRAYSON
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to repeat yourself,” I say to Maggie, the social worker who just showed up on my doorstep. I would love to know how she fucking found me. Our address is somewhere out there, and Sebastian better search the entire internet for it if someone can find it so easily.
I stare at her, then the kid she has her arm around who is staring up at me with big brown eyes that look too much like mine. That’s normal. Plenty of people have brown eyes. It isn’t a big deal. I can’t fucking freak out about what this lady just told me.
“Please, come sit in the living room. Let’s get more comfortable,” Jaxon says, ushering them to the couch.
“Thank you. A rest would be great. We had a long journey,” Maggie adds with a tired exhale.
It sounds genuine, but I can’t be sure. My mind is racing.
Maggie and the kid take the loveseat, and me and the guys take the bigger couch. The girls aren’t here. They are in town, shopping. Good. Last thing I need is more women to bombard me right now. I run my fingers through my dark brown hair. I have no idea what to say. I’m dumbfounded. I’m fucking pissed. I’m heartbroken. Betrayal sinks deeper into me than it ever has before.
If what Maggie says is true, this eight-year-old kid sitting next to her is mine. I have a fucking son.
A son I missed for eight years.
“I know this must come as a shock to you,” she says, lacing her hands in her lap. Her back is straight, and her voice is crisp and clear. The way she moves and speaks sounds like she had professional lessons in etiquette. Her clothes are expensive and impeccable. There isn’t a wrinkle on her navy-blue skirt or a rip in her pantyhose. Her hair is long, tumbling over her shoulders in a chocolate fountain, and her eyes are filled with warmth and sympathy.
I turn my head and see Heaven salivating to get a taste of her. She’s way out of his league.
“Dillion is your son, Mr. Campbell. It took me a long time to find you. Too long. I had to hire a private investigator to be honest. You are very good at hiding yourself.”
“This is impossible.” I smooth a hand over my mouth, and Jaxon pats my back. Feels good to have my friends at my side for this. They are making me calmer. “I haven’t seen or spoken to Kendall going on nine years. You’ve seen my record.”