I also had zero doubts that she was terrified—no one hears gunshots unexpectedly and isn’t.
I hated that she was going through even more on top of losing someone she loved.
But I had to be as rational as possible.
I was missing something, what was it?
Lifting my ass cheek, I concentrated on not pushing the pedal down to the floor with how I was balanced. “Hey, Carter, reach into my pocket and pull my phone out.”
“Which pocket’s it in?”
“Back right. Once you’ve got it, type in—”
He’d been reaching out but snatched his hand back again. “I’m not touching your ass. I’ll call whoever you need on my phone.”
“Just take it out,” I growled, relieved to feel a man’s hands on my ass cheek for once when he did it. “Now, type in zero-one-zero-three and look at the messages. Are there any from Mace, Bexley, or Ava?”
He hummed as he unlocked it, but then he said, “Yeah, there’s one from Mace. He says the girls are safe.”
That was it?
“That’s it? There aren’t anymore?”
“Nope, just the one saying they’re safe. Want me to text him and ask what’s going on?”
I didn’t reply because our radios suddenly came back to life as we moved out of the no-reception zone.
“Guys, I hope you can hear this. Mizz O’Hare has called in an update, and now we have a hostage situation at Hell On Wheels Motel,” Naomi said quickly. “I know we’re not meant to talk like this on the radio, but I’m freaking out. She said everyone’s got a gun, and I don’t know if she means the good guys or the bad guys. Can an eighty-three year old woman be a good guy?”
DB was the one who answered her. “Thank you for the update. We’re en route to the motel.”
Then everything went silent again, leaving me with a racing heart and a million thoughts.
“Just to say, I know you’re close to losing your shit, but if I were ever in a hostage situation, I’d want Mace and an eighty-three year old woman with a shotgun protecting me. I accidentally stood on her flowerbed a few weeks back, and I swear she was going to tear me a new one. If someone’s done any damage to her property, I’ll be betting she’s pissed.”
“But is she stable? A pissed off old woman with a shotgun?”
Snorting, he pointed out the turning ahead unnecessarily. “Sorry, force of habit. I think the question of whether she’s stable or not is a loaded one, but I’d still want her protecting me in that situation.”
The motel wasn’t far after the turning, so I pulled to a stop in front of it and was almost out of the vehicle when someone grabbed my shoulder and almost got punched.
It was Alex.
“Stay calm. If you can’t, you’ll need to sit this one out.”
“She’s my fucking life, man,” I snapped. “My world is sitting in that room, and someone with a gun is—”
“We don’t even know if the gun’s anywhere near her,” he interrupted, giving me a quick shake. “Now, we’re going to move carefully so that we don’t fuck it all up and get people shot. It’s a shitty situation,” he admitted, ignoring the sarcastic noises that everyone let out at the words, “but we won’t be the reason someone innocent gets hurt.”
Grinding my teeth together, I reluctantly nodded. I wanted to run in and get to her, but he was right. God, but this sucked.
“Good job,” DB said as he walked up, stopping in front of me. “A lot of us understand how you’re feeling right now, Logan, but Dad’s right. You have to be calm to be smart, and smart is making sure no one gets shot. We’ll get her out.”
I’d take and love Bexley any way she came, so long as her heart was beating.
And it was my job to make sure it stayed that way.
I didn’t take the weight of that responsibility lightly either. She was my heart, so hers couldn’t stop, especially not now.