Page 162 of Fire Fight
“What about staying put and obstruction of justice?”
I shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck. That’s my man down there.”
Wyatt nodded. “And my mom. I know she’s done some really fucked up and horrible things, but…”
“I get it, and I don’t hold it against you.” Then I jerked my chin toward the drive. “Let’s go.”
As silently as we could, Wyatt and I followed the silty two-track that wound through the towering pines. Maybe fifty feet ahead of us, the treeline broke open to a small clearing in which a log cabin sat in the center. Lights were on inside, and a whitepanel van that damn near glowed in the darkness was parked nearby.
Brushing my finger over my lips to encourage Wyatt to stay quiet, I crooked that same digit and crept closer. The Lawless brothers had fanned out across the lawn, guns trained on the cabin, waiting for Lane’s men to get into position on the other three sides. From here, it appeared the only point of entry was the front door, with windows on at least two of the other sides, plus a small porthole nestled in the center of the gabled roof.
Across the way, a light blinked once, twice before extinguishing. The same pattern repeated from the opposite direction. Some sort of signal, then, to which Lane responded in kind.
The forest went abruptly still, as though the plants, trees, and critters understood something was about to happen.
Nature was bracing, and my breath caught in my chest as I did too.
A shout rent the stillness.
“Crew, take cover!”
And then…all hell broke loose.
forty-three
. . .
CREW
“Your daughter.”
Those two words seemed to momentarily stun Mrs. Saunders, who gasped dramatically in their wake.
“That little bitch,” she hissed. “Missy has always been a cunt, but my daughter…I thought I raised her better.”
Before I could use her momentary distraction to my and Parker’s advantage and take her out, she bent and lifted the gas can, then disappeared up the stairs.
My eyes scanned the area in desperation. There had to besomething, some way out.
“What are we going to do?” Parker choked out between sobs.
“Stay calm, Parker, and follow my lead.”
“What lead?” he hissed.
Good question.
Mrs. Saunders began descending, the can upended in her wake, splashing gasoline on the steps as she went.
Wordlessly, she moved into the kitchen, dumping more gas across the counters and appliances, doing the same in the bathroom before returning to face me and Parker as she emptied the rest of it on the ancient couch and tossed the can to the side.
“It seems my daughter has thrown a wrench in my plans, but all is not lost.”
I didn’t understand, couldn’t see how she could possibly get out of this without lighting herself on fire as well. She reached into her back pocket to withdraw something, likely matches if she was planning on torching this place.
I was proved wrong in a hurry.
Mrs. Saunders waved a nice little six-shot revolver around, the gun she’d threatened me with earlier, carelessly oscillating the barrel between my and Parker’s heads.
