Page 111 of Skin Deep

“Is that Susan?” I said. Susan was an older woman Kelly’s old man had hired years ago to work at his company. Kelly kept her on because he figured his old man would want him to.

“Yeah,” she said.

I grinned when I thought about my sister referring to the woman as ambrosia salad. My sister had never warmed up to her. Neither had I.

Cash seemed to notice her when we did. He stopped, and she caught up. She was waving her hands some, sniffling. I made a joke and my sister grinned and made a quick retort.

“Come on.” Kee backed up some. “Let’s go wait in the—”

Susan called Cash down to her, and as he leaned in closer, she came out with a knife from the pocket of her cardigan and stabbed him in the neck with it.

A roar echoed in the night. Not from Cash, but from my sister. He stumbled back, and when he did, a man who seemed to appear out of nowhere stabbed him in the back. Shadows started to harden into men, all with glinting knives ready to butcher Kelly over Hell’s Kitchen.

My sister flew past me into the house as I was yelling, “Move!” toward my brothers. “Grab your guns!”

My sister had her bow and arrows, ready to put them to use.

Lachlan held out an arm to stop her. “Kee,” he said, his eyes serious, “if Kelly isn’t who you—”

“Move your fucking hand or I’ll break it,” she hissed. She took an arrow, licked it down the center, and loosed the first one before she was out the door.

I followed its trajectory as my gun raised and I headed outside—the arrow went straight through Susan’s neck, blood squirting in all directions—and I started to shoot some motherfuckers.

Where the fuck did they all come from? It was like they were placed in certain areas and had been hiding ever since he left. Then they emerged like a motley crew of savages who all wanted him dead.

It wasn’t looking too good for him, even with me and my brothers and my sister. I was pretty sure some vital damage had been done.

“Watch out!” I roared to my brothers. “Watch out for her arrows!”

She was picking them off; some of her arrows going straight thorough the heart. My sister was a controlled shooter, but in a moment like we were in, I didn’t want her to mistake one of us for one of them.

“Not today, motherfuckers, not as long as I’m alive,” she said, releasing arrows as fast she could.

When the men still standing realized where the arrows and bullets were coming from, they stopped stabbing Cash and turned on us. A guy knocked into me from behind, like a fucking linebacker, and we both roared as we went down. He landed on top of me and sliced me on the shoulder. He couldn’t get a good stab in because I was fighting too hard, but I knew he was trying to wound me in the neck. He was going to try to separate my head from my body.

He fell over a second later, his face hitting the ground, his dead, open eyes staring at me. Blood trickled from his head and into his sockets.

My wife stood next to me, her gun aiming at sounds she thought were coming too close. She’d shot the motherfucker. I grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her down beside me. Bullets whizzed and arrows whistled. My brothers were positioned in spots to take shelter, but also to keep shooting if they needed to. My sister had taken position in front of her husband, daring anyone to come near him.

Kelly touched her leg from the ground, and she turned her bow on him, her chest heaving. “You said you’d take my heart with an arrow someday, my darlin’,” he said. “Do it now.” He coughed, and blood dripped out of his mouth.

My sister’s eyes were crazed. I wasn’t sure if she was seeing Kelly or not. Or what she was about to do.

I picked up my wife from the ground and set her in the doorway of the house. “Stay here!”

“I have your back. Go!”

“Kee,” I said, touching her arm. “Keely!” I roared.

Her mind connected to her body again. Realization flooded into her eyes. She dropped the bow and arrow, her knees giving out, landing in puddles of blood. Her hands fisted in Kelly’s torn and soaked shirt. She set her ear against his heart, listening.

I knew what she was hearing was faint, as faint as his next words. When he shut his eyes, my sister started to cry. Then, like she wasn’t admitting defeat, she threatened him with her own form of justice before she looked at us. My brothers had joined me around them, making sure no one else got through. I could see my wife standing in the doorway, her gun still raised.

“Harrison,” my sister ordered, “put pressure on his neck. Now!” I did, feeling the warm, sleek lifeblood slipping through my fingers. She looked at Lachlan. “See if any of the other spots are as bad. Hold pressure. You, too, Declan.” They all nodded and started to move around me. “Owen.”

Owen stood there, unable to move his eyes from Kelly.

“Owen!” she shouted. He blinked and looked at her. “Give me your phone!”

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