Page 85 of Single Mom's Firemen

As soon as I help Luna climb out the window, I hear the door bursting open downstairs at the same time a loud bang tears through the living room. The shitshow is about to begin, and I need the children out of Colby’s reach.

“Oh, shit!” Miranda gasps.

“Stay calm, don’t move,” I remind her as I get Sammy out.

A moment later, I join them on the roof. They wrap their arms and legs around me while I grab the rope and prepare for a rapid, swift descent.

34

Eric

The flashbang grenade in the living room was an optimal idea.

I took the front and Chase took the back. I had hoped for something less violent and bloody, but Colby’s men didn’t give us a choice. Four bullets were enough. Chase had a bit of trouble with his opponents at first, but he managed to take them both out.

My heart is racing, blood whistling like steam through my veins as we meet in the hallway. It’s been only a handful of seconds since we broke in.

A handful of seconds since four lives were snuffed out of this world so that Halle might have a better shot at survival. Wyatt has the kids. At least they’re safe.

“In there,” I tell Chase, pointing at the bedroom door.

He gives me a hard look and a nod. We can hear the commotion inside. Shoes scraping across the floor. Halle’s voice, fractured by fear and despair.

“In here!” she screams, and the sound of her voice calling for help sends shivers down my spine.

“Go, go,” I gasp.

Chase is about to kick open the door when bullets burst through. The projectiles get embedded in the wall behind us. Wood splinters fly out. They all missed him by mere inches. We’re forced to pull aside and flank the door.

“You’re surrounded, Colby!” I shout. “There’s no way out for you.”

“Fuck you! If you come any closer, I will kill her!” he shouts back.

“Colby, please, this has gone too far,” Halle tries to plead with him.

“Shut up!” he snarls.

I listen to the sounds. The footsteps. The voices. Chase looks down at the floor. There’s a beam of light coming through the bottom of the door and a shadow moving along. We have their relative position in the room, so I give Chase a subtle nod and hand signals. He knows what will happen next. We don’t have a better option at this point.

“The police are on their,” I say. “There’s an entire federal task force coming for you, Colby. You’ve made it this far, so pat yourself on the back and call it a day, huh? It’s not gonna end well, no matter what you do.”

“I’m not going to prison! I belong with my wife!”

Chase clenches his jaw as his arm slowly moves up, hand reaching for the doorknob. One twist is all it takes, and the two of us burst through the door, weapons drawn and ready to fire. Colby wasn’t expecting us to come in so quickly. He hesitates, his hand trembling as he grasps the Colt revolver.

“Don’t shoot,” I say. “Or I will shoot back, and believe me, I’ve got a better aim.”

“Stay away!” Colby replies.

He looks like shit. Red-faced and sweating, despair deepening the creases under his tired eyes. His hair is a mess, his clothes disheveled. There’s a spatter of dried blood across his beige shirt. It coincides with the small cuts and bruises I notice on Halle’s face. She is terrified. He’s holding her too close to him for me to get to her in time if he decides to pull that trigger. She’s so vulnerable right now, fragile. So easy to break. This shouldn’t have happened. But here we are.

“Think about it,” I say, trying to reason with the raving lunatic. “Where will you go? What are you gonna do? The whole city is looking for you. That warehouse fire was the last nail in your coffin, Colby. You can’t make that go away.”

“It wasn’t supposed to burn like that!” he says, his voice broken and trembling.

The man is beyond erratic. The slightest trigger might make him do the unthinkable. I have to be careful. Chase, on the other hand, watches him like a hawk, gun aimed straight at Colby’s head. I’m not sure he has a clear shot from his angle, though. If Colby decides to move, the bullet might find Halle first.

“But it did,” I reply. “There are consequences, Colby. What kind of a man are you if you’re not willing to face the consequences of your actions?”

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