Page 115 of Pope's Penance

Their presence was too distracting for me, though.So, instead of completing coursework like I should be doing, I’m doing laundry.It’s tedious enough that I don’t need concentration to do it.

With a pile of the twins’ clothes in my arms, I peek in on them quick before heading upstairs to put the laundry away.

The last thing I’m expecting while shoving clothes into their drawers is a masculine voice screaming from outside for me to run and hide.

I toss the clothes down as I fly down the hallway.The hair lifts on my nape and arms as I hurry to the stairs.

As soon as the first gunshot rings out from outside, the twins scream and begin to cry.

The gunshots continue repeatedly as I make it to the stairs and skip down them.

I’m almost there.I almost fucking make it to my kids when the front door is kicked open.There’s a loud crash of glass shattering from the kitchen as another breaks in the back door.

“Run to me,” I scream to my babies as tears pour from my eyes.

“Mommy,” Lovelyn cries.

Someone wraps their arms around me from behind as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

Lovelyn and Legend’s terrified cries are the only thing that keeps me from freezing up.

I fight, which the guy wasn’t expecting.

The moves Verena taught me come easy, my muscles instantly recalling how they need to operate.

Terror tries to shove through the shocked numbness, but I brush it away, keeping my focus aimed at the men that keep trying to stop me from reaching my babies.

No matter how much I fight back, it’s not enough and powerlessness fills me.

What good is my fire if I can’t use it to protect the ones who matter most to me?

A man twice my size snatches Lovelyn up, and he squeezes her to his chest while another grabs Legend.

I scratch, claw, and bite the hands that try to stop me.I block hits that are aimed at my face, but I never once remove my eyes from the men who have my kids.

“You’re all dead,” I scream.“I’m going to kill you.”

But when they point a gun at their heads, I fall quiet.One wrong move and they’ll kill my kids.

“Please, don’t hurt them.I’ll do whatever you want,” I plead with them in a hoarse voice.

“Ah.That’s more like it,” a familiar voice says from the doorway.

No.

There’s no way.

Betrayal burns through my veins.

I close my eyes, hoping it’s just another horrible nightmare, until a fist tangles in my hair and jerks my head back.

A grunt rips from my throat before I can stop it, and when my eyes fly open, it’s only to clash with the satisfaction in his.

“Monster,” I snarl, before spitting in his face.

Never show the fire.

Why did I forget that?

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