Page 134 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“What did you do?”

My ears were ringing. How long had they been ringing?

“What did you do?” Dad repeated.

“I pulled the trigger.”

He swallowed hard, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Did he reach you?”

I winced, raising a hand to my neck.

“Let me see, baby girl,” Dad ordered softly, pulling the sweatshirt away from my neck. He stared for a moment. “Someone get your sister some ice.”

“Is it bad?” I asked.

“You’re all right,” he murmured. “He got to you.”

“He grabbed my hair,” I replied. “And then my throat.”

“Did you fight him?”

“No.”

“You didn’t?”

“I didn’t want to let go of the gun,” I whispered. “You said to never let go of the gun.”

“That’s right. You did good.”

“I shot him again.”

“What happened after that?”

“He fell.”

“Did he say anythin’ else?”

“No, he just laughed.”

Someone slammed out of the house.

“He’s dead now, isn’t he?” I asked quietly.

“You don’t worry about that,” Dad said, taking a bag of frozen corn from Rumi so he could press it against my throat. “You sit right here for a few minutes, yeah? I’m just gonna go outside.”

“Don’t leave,” I replied in a rush, gripping his cut in my fist.

“Rumi’s gonna stay with you.”

“Where’s Cian? I want Cian.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” my older brother said dryly, spinning the chair next to me so he could sit in it backward.

Dad walked away while I was distracted, the rest of the men following.

Cian wasn’t with them.

Chapter 19

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