Page 90 of The Mercenary's Hidden Heir

He drops, whimpering.

The third backs up, fumbling his blaster.

Fear flashing across his face.

Good.

He should be afraid.

I close the distance in two strides.

Rip the weapon from his hands.

Jam it into his gut.

Fire.

One shot.

Clean.

He crumples without a sound.

Silence falls.

Except for the buzz of the broken lights.

Except for the ragged breathing of two little kids watching their father rip men apart to keep them alive.

I turn, slow.

Kneel down.

Aria’s crying silent tears, her small fists balled up tight.

Joren looks like he’s trying not to breathe, not to move, not toexist.

My heart shatters clean in half.

I wipe my bloody hands on my jacket.

Crouch lower.

"Listen to me," I rasp, voice thick. "You aren’t bad because you saw bad things."

Joren blinks up at me, tears brimming.

"You’re strong," I whisper, tapping his chest. "Both of you. Stronger than anything chasing us."

Aria sniffs.

Joren nods, trembling.

I scoop them both up.

Their little bodies clinging tight to me like vines.

"I got you," I mutter into their hair. "Always."

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