Trigger's Light - Carol Dawn Page 0,44

her. The lying bitch lost me thousands of dollars because she got pregnant. The damn child was supposed to die with her.”

“What?”

“It didn’t take much,” he continues. “A little something added to her water bottle before she left for her doctor’s appointment. The poor thing fell asleep at the wheel.”

I’m fighting to stay awake. It’s taking every bit of strength I have just to keep my eyes open. But each word he says is imprinted on my mind. I’ll never forget any of it.

I knew that he wasn’t treating my sister right, but I had no idea he was this type of person.

“I was pissed when the boy survived,” Marco says. “When I was told you were going to fight for custody, I almost gave him up. But then, a plan hatched. Your sister lost me money, but her son can get me a nice penny. Of course, if he was a female, I would get more, but what can you do?

Now, I had this obstacle in my way. You. I gave you a chance to back away. I tried to show you how worthless of a parent you would be. But you didn’t listen. So, I had to change my plan. I needed to make you feel safe. No longer in danger. Then, when the time was right, I would grab the boy and kill you.

I was aiming for your heart. It seems I missed a little.”

“Breaker, we need to get going.”

“Looks like time’s up, Princess.”

I catch glimpses of movement but can’t fully see. The pain is causing my vision to blur.

“Where’s Brendon?” I say between pants.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he says. “I’m thinking of just letting nature take its course with you. It’s rude to expect me to waist another bullet. Hey, Motzo, toss her in one of the stalls.”

“You got it.”

The pain intensifies as I’m lifted, taken a few feet, and then thrown to the ground.

“Just to ease your dying mind a little,” Cracking open my eyes, I see Marco leaning over me. “Brendon is now a no-named boy until his new family picks one for him. I did lose a couple thousand because he was a few months older than I promised, but that’s okay. I’m sure he’ll be very happy with the Millers.”

Marco stands and walks away.

The Millers. My child is with the Millers.

Remember that, Thea. Don’t freaking die. Mason is coming, I just know it. I need to stay awake long enough to tell him what I’ve learned.

Don’t die, yet.

Please, hurry, Mason.

Hurry!

***Trigger***

We arrive at the address that was written down, but the only thing out here is an old barn.

“Looks like the farmhouse got downgraded to a barn.” Ink pulls his bike in beside me and cuts the engine.

“Phoenix said that the house was destroyed in a fire a few years back,” Hawk says. “I guess they decided not to rebuild.”

“Looks like someone’s been here recently,” Bear’s bent over looking at the driveway. “These tracks are fresh.”

Without a second thought, I make my way to the barn door.

“Thea,” I shout. “Baby, are you in here?”

“Trigger, over here,” Brick’s swiping his fingers on the ground when I stop beside him. “blood.”

I can’t tell if my heart doubles in speed or stops altogether.

“We’ll find them, brother.”

Normally, Bear’s words are soothing, but not this time. I shake off the feeling of dread and continue my search. The last place to search was the old horse stalls. My mind is already planning the next stop when a noise from the last stall reaches my ears.

“Fuck,” someone shouts.

I race toward the stall and am destroyed by what I see. Thea is on the ground bleeding from what appears to be a bullet wound to her chest.

“Mother fucker,” Bear says, shoving my frozen body out of the way. “Call an ambulance now!”

His shout knocks some sense into me, and I rush forward.

“Little one,” I manage to say around the knot in my throat. “Please, baby, open those eyes.”

Thea is moaning in pain but slowly opens her eyes.

“What happened?” I ask.

I want more than anything to wrap her in my arms and carry her away. But I don’t know how long she can remain conscious and I need answers. I also know, even though I won’t admit it to myself, that my woman is very close to death.

“Mill,” she groans.

“Try again, little one,” I encourage.

“Brendon…Millers.”

I lean down as close as I can.

“Tell me, baby.”

“Baby’s with Millers,” her voice is barely a whisper. “Was Marco.”

Before she can tell me