Page 65 of Never Give Up

But the smile fades from my face, and Maya pulls her hand back with a sharp intake of breath as we pull into her driveway.

I turn and she’s white. She swallows and starts to shake almost uncontrollably.

Without thinking, I slam the shifter into park and get out. Once I’m around to her side of the vehicle, I open the door and frame her face with my hands.

“I’m here. Breathe.” She takes a deep breath, but I can see the panic still building. “Maya, baby.” I lower my voice and bring my mouth to her ear. “Eyes on me, remember?”

When I pull back, it’s to find her eyes locked on mine, just like they were last night.

“Stay here, talk about cookies with the boys. Let me handle this, and then we’ll make our breakfast and we’ll make plans.”

She’s nodding.

“Eyes on me, right?”

Another nod.

“Good.”

I press a gentle kiss to her cheek, then check to make sure that I’ve got my backup weapon in the locked glove box. I know it’s there. But seeing it there, ready to be used to protect my family if needed, gives me a sense of comfort that I wasn’t prepared for.

“Brian.” She grabs my neck, like she’s keeping me from walking away. “Be safe.”

It’s my turn to nod and I kiss her again, this time on the lips. “You too. Lock the door.”

Cold fury grips me as I see the way she’s trying to push her panic down, and I would do anything to chase away the fear from her eyes.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Jonathan says from the back seat.

“Nothing. You two stay in the truck with Maya. I’ll be right back.” I take my gun from the glove box.

“Dad, why do you need your gun?” Panic heats James’ voice, but I ignore that.

He’s safe and Maya will handle their questions.

“Just stay here.” I close my door and approach her house, swallowing the bile I feel in my throat at the graffiti sprayed onto her door.

I really hope I’m not about to shoot someone where my sons can see me.

23

MAYA

Panic scratchesat me until I bleed inside, and the boys are the only things tethering me to the ground.

Even so, I lock the doors, willing my hand not to shake.

“What’s going on?” Jonathan’s voice holds a note of worry and I paste on a smile.

“Don’t worry, bud. Remember that I got hurt? Well, your dad is making sure that whoever did it isn’t in my house.”

“But, Maya, why does your door say ‘kismet’ on it? I don’t know what that means,” Jonathan says, fear darkening his eyes. “Is that blood?”

I reach into the back and caress his cheek, then do the same thing with James. “Don’t you dare worry about this. Your dad’s going to make sure the house is okay. Kismet… it’s a stupid word, okay? It means luck or destiny. It’s just a word. And no, it’s not blood. That’s just paint. Someone’s playing a really mean trick on me and that’s it.”

After I take a deep, shuddering breath, I open my mouth and tell them the truth. “Words have no power over us.” Hopefully, I’m telling the truth.

I try to stay steady. “So, what else do you want to eat today? I think I might have some popcorn. Maybe we can cover all the windows and convince your dad to watch a movie after we bake those cookies. It’ll be better than being in a movie theater because we can all get comfy and fall asleep if we want to.”

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