Page 116 of Brew
I keep a piece in the drawer next to the bed.I reach for it in the dark, and when I feel the cool metal in my hand, I shudder. I had one shooting lesson, and that was ages ago. It was also the first time Brew and I had sex, but that’s beside the point.
Was I just dreaming it, or did a gun really fire?
I move quickly across the room, opening the door, my heart hammering in my chest as I head toward Olive’s room. A hand snakes out, grabbing me from behind, and I yelp.
“Shhh!” Bronco whispers. “It’s me.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper back. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Someone’s downstairs. Stay up here with Amber.”
“Olive.”
“Go check on her.”
“Bronco—”
“No buts. Go!”
I scoot my butt towards Olive’s room as I watch Bronco disappear toward the stairs, his gun raised.
“Olive?” I whisper, but when I blink, I see her bedspread turned back, and she’s not in the bed.
My heart thunders in my chest.
I dart out of the room and over to the third bedroom, Amber is in the doorway.
“Olive?” I barely get the words out. “Is she with you?”
“No,” Amber says. “Oh, shit, Erica.”
“I’m going down there.” I turn, but she hauls me back.
“Bronco will deal with it. Just stay up here until it’s safe.”
“It’s my child! A gun went off!” I whisper-shout.
“Nobody knows about this place. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I know she’s trying to be positive, but it’s making me nervous. She has that uncertain look in her eyes where she’s trying to be strong, but her nerves are giving out.
“A gun went off,” I repeat. “I’m going down there.”
“You’ll get yourself killed!” she whisper-shouts. “If you’re going down, so am I.”
We both stop when we hear Bronco’s voice. “Don’t do it. Drop the gun, or I swear to god I’ll fuckin’ shoot!”
My blood turns cold as I don’t even think. I just move. My legs feel like jelly and steel at the same time. It feels like I’m running in slow motion, but when I hit the landing and slide, I grip the gun, afraid to let it go. It’s my talisman right now.
“I want her!” A female voice screams. “Bring her down to me now, or Olive dies.”
Who in the world?
When I get to my feet and scramble to the stairs, Bronco still holds his gun over the bannister, pointing down at the floor. “Not gonna do that. Drop the gun. Now!”
“You think I’m joking?” She lets out a shrill laugh. “I’ve waited a long time for this, nobody is going to stop me.”
“Think about what you’re doin’,” Bronco says, his eyes flick to me, and he shakes his head.
“It’s okay,” I say, flicking off the safety before tucking the gun into the back of my pajama pants. It’s risky, but if I have to use it, I don’t have time to think about the safety. “I’m coming down.”
