Chapter 27

Nutritional Labels should also include a ‘what if I ate the whole fucking box’ section.

-Hannah’s secret thoughts

Hannah

I’d forgotten.

I’d been very careful not to drive onto school property with my gun in my car.

I’d park at the daycare and walk the kids over while leaving it in the car—but then I’d witnessed a driver nearly plow into me and the girls, and I’d stopped walking them over.

Today? It was raining. Today? I’d dropped them off directly in front of the school.

I’d never once intended to get out of the car, but my back hatch wouldn’t open. I had to get out, and I had to have my keys. I thought it’d be easier to get the purse and just use the key fob’s closeness to the tailgate to open it, rather than pulling the keys out.

It wasn’t intentional to have my gun out of my car at all.

A gunman walked onto school property and immediately started opening fire on me…on my girls.

At first, I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on.

The screams.

I didn’t think. I just reacted.

I pulled my gun out of my purse, aimed, and fired.

“You didn’t think to look around to make sure that nobody else was in the line of fire?”

My eyes flicked up to the man questioning me.

I nodded my head. “I did. I gauged that no one else was around…I opened fire on her.”

I was explaining my reasoning for having a gun on school property, and it wasn’t going so well.

I’d been questioned for going on two hours now, and the angry-eyed officer—FBI agent—was staring at me like I was already tried and convicted in his book.

“You gauged that no one else was around,” he drawled like he didn’t believe me.

I nodded.

“Yes,” I agreed almost immediately. “I looked, saw that there was nobody behind her but a brick building that I knew that my bullets wouldn’t penetrate, and fired.”

“How did you know that the bullets wouldn’t penetrate?” he pushed, clearly not believing that I knew what I was talking about.

“I’ve already told you that my brother is a police officer. He’s on the SWAT team. When I spoke with him about what bullets to put in the gun, he instructed me to buy hollow point bullets.”

“Hollow points aren’t guaranteed not to penetrate a wall,” he chided as if he were instructing a small child.

I was getting upset at this point.

“No, you’re exactly right,” I agreed. “However, if you hit what you’re aiming at, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

I’d surprised him, that I could tell.

“Well, Ms…”

Some sort of commotion at the door had us both looking up, and a furious Baylor was standing there.

“Get up, you’re going with me.” He pointed directly at my chest.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” The agent stood up. “But we’re not finished here.”

Baylor looked at the man like he was a speck of dirt on a white shirt. As if it didn’t belong anywhere near his vicinity.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Baylor said back, just as controlled. “But you’ve had her in here for over two hours. You haven’t given her a phone call. You haven’t arrested her. You haven’t given her access to a lawyer. And again, you haven’t arrested her, so as far as I’m concerned, she’s free to go.”

“Then I’ll arrest her,” the agent stated, sounding full of authority.

My belly dropped.

“You have no reason to arrest her,” Baylor snapped. “She was defending her child. You can charge her with a crime, yes, but then you’ll have every single senator and Republican, as well as parent in this county, upset that you did because she was protecting children.”

The agent’s lips thinned.

“Her husband-to-be has been shot,” Baylor hissed. “He’s in surgery, and she needs to be there, and not here.”

“How was he shot?” the agent asked at the same time that I shrieked, “What?”

It was high-pitched, hysterical, and from the very bottom of my heart as I let those words take root.

Her husband-to-be has been shot.

What. The. Fuck.

I got up and started toward the door.

“I’ll be there to arrest her in two hours,” the agent instructed Baylor.

I didn’t say another word as I ran out of the room and straight out of the police station.

I didn’t look at the men and women that were there, filing their own statements.

I ran and didn’t stop until I reached the tow truck that Baylor usually drove around.

It had the number ‘9’ on it and had fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror.

“What happened?” I gasped, looking at Baylor.

“Buckle up,” he ordered.

I could tell he wouldn’t leave the parking lot until I did, so I reached behind my shoulder blindly, latched onto the belt, and roughly yanked it over my body.

***

I stood over Travis’ bed and stared down at his chest.

It was covered with fifteen pieces of gauze, all dotting from his clavicle to his belly button, and everywhere in between.

“Shot him from pretty far away,” the doctor said. “Could’ve been a lot worse. As it is, the pellets only penetrated about an inch into his skin, all the way around. As long as he gives it a few weeks, he’ll recover just fine. But that means zero movement. I don’t want him doing anything but getting up to go to the bathroom. Showers are out until the wounds heal for a few days. Possibly a week. He can take a bath with the tub filled about half full. No submerging anything until then.”

I listened to the doctor explain what had happened and how the next few weeks would be for Travis, who was still heavily sedated.

I stared at the pieces of gauze. Fifteen. Fifteen places that a pellet had penetrated his beautiful chest. A beautiful chest that would forever be marred.

“What happened to Allegra?” I whispered.

“Shot in both shoulders, believe it or not. Not dead.”

I looked over to find Baylor standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging as he tried to hold in the urge to do something. Punch someone.

“Which room?”

“Don’t.”

I looked over to find Travis’ eyes open and staring at me with a glaze to them.

“Trav,” I whispered, taking a few quick steps forward.

Before I could touch him, however, there was a commotion at the door.

“Hannah Morton?”

I gritted my teeth.

I hated that I still had Joshua’s last name. I’d taken the step to change my name back to my maiden name, but then I’d met Travis. My hopes had heightened, and I thought it would be odd to change my name in case something more came of us.

So I’d left it alone.

Now I wished I’d changed it.

“Yeah?”

That’s when I saw the agent, as well as two uniformed officers, standing at the door.

One of them had cuffs in his hand.

“You’re under arrest for…”

There was a roaring in my ears, and I closed my eyes in defeat.

Rough hands went around my wrists, and I was turned to face the bed where Travis was looking at me with horror in his eyes.

He started to get up, putting his hands on the bed where the white handles were, and I shook my head at him frantically.

“Don’t move!” I ordered. He stopped at my forceful tone. “Don’t do it. Don’t move. Be good.”

Travis opened his mouth, but before he could say another word, I was taken away.

Arrested.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

I’d lose my nursing license.

I’d lose my concealed carry.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My girls, however, were alive. Was I really losing here?