Page 72 of Letting Go

It's late summer, but the roof of the garage is nearly empty. Running towards the southeast corner, we crouch and scuttle, weaving our way through the scattered cars. I catch my breath behind a red minivan and peek through the passenger window. I don’t know if I'm panting because I'm out of breath or because I want to kill that son-of-a-bitch.

Nic looks too and ducks back down, pointing to have us split up.

It still proves worthless.

Reed Clifton is not here. It takes a second or two to register, but it’s clear he got spooked. All that's there is the tactical mount and a rifle—an AXIS maybe. Nic shakes his head, putting his gun away. "I don’t get it. We escorted people off the roof quietly and individually. There's no way he knew we were on to him."

But I'm staring at the mount. Something's off. Reaching down I take it –it’s a Savage AXIS, a high-powered rifle with a silencer, scope, and infrared. The moment I lift it, I know what it is. It wasn't balanced right on the stand.

"He played us." I tear the chamber open.

Nic stares at the chamber. It’s empty.

"He knew we'd come up here. He knew we'd get his brother off the roof—"

My stomach drops and bile comes up as I look down at the Lexus with Mateus and the girls.

Fuck.

Right then a BMW comes screaming down the side street, turns the corner blocking the rear. Almost simultaneously, a Toyota rushes down the other alley blocking the front. The Jeep is boxed in.

A skinny guy leaps from the passenger side waving a gun.

I raise mine.

"Don't." Nic grabs my arm. "If the girls bolt, you might hit one"

I'm helpless. Everything happens so fast. As Nic speaks, the wiry guy points his gun directly at the front of the car and fires.

Glass shatters. I can hear it. But not the sound of gunfire.

Mateus.

I hear Nic's breath escape in a hiss. He grabs me by the shoulder, and we hurdle down the stairs, but the time it takes is killing me. I vaguely hear Nic's voice calling Finn on the phone. We can’t see anything until we hit each landing. At the first window, I see the girls getting out with hands up. The second swing around the corner of the stairwell, Chloe's standing in front of Claire, shielding her.

My heart pounds hard and painful in the back of my throat. Nic grabs my arm and his voice is ragged, torn. Mateus is dead. It was his call not to shoot.

I bring up my arm to smash the window on the landing, but Nic grabs it again.

"Stop. Stop."

"What the fuck—Mateus is dead. You want that for Chloe? For Claire?

Nic's breath is harsh, brutal, ragged in my ear. "They aren’t going to shoot Chloe. Look."

He's right. Chloe's tall frame is completely sheltering Claire's small body. We still can’t hear what she's saying, but it’s obvious. Let her go and I'll go with you.

My body throbs with the need to do something. I must get to her. I'm helpless up here just watching. I raise my elbow again, ready to shatter some glass.

For a third time, Nic stops me and his hiss in my ear rings true. "The girls are in the middle Bryce. The range of accuracy on your piece is not for this distance."

I try to shrug him off.

"Stop. Listen. If you shoot the moment Claire makes a break for it, or Chloe dodges, you could hit either one. Look at me. They're in the middle, between active shooter. Worst position. Bryce. Look at me for a second."

I tear my gaze from the nightmare unfolding below. Nic seems calm, but a vein throbs in his neck. He puts both hands on my shoulders.

"Get to the bottom and take a shot when you can. The angle is better. Finn's coming out the back door in a second. Jackson's staying with Clifton."