It's unnerving, the apparent normalcy of sitting around the kitchen table, a snoring baby sitting in her car carrier as we wait for Nathan to arrive while we discuss what happened at the clinic. He texted us just a minute ago, saying he's on his way here, and as we wait, everyone seems so calm. Everyone that is, except Melissa.

“You mean... the man I talked to last night... oh God,” she says, her voice trembling and her hands shaking as she looks out into the dooryard at the van. Two windows have been smashed, and there's still a throwing knife handle embedded in the rear door.

Katrina shakes her head and comes around the table, taking Melissa's hands. “You did nothing wrong, Melissa. Last night you were trying to be nice, and you were talking to what you thought was a nice man. That's it.”

“Still... little Andrea... I'm so... I'm so...” she tries to get out before she starts sobbing. Katrina holds her carefully, stroking her hair and comforting her. “She could have died!”

“But she didn't,” Katrina says softly, and I look at Jackson. His normal happy go lucky appearance is gone, and he’s as serious as can be. Andrea, for her part, is sipping tea with both hands and looking down at the table, holding her peace for now. I want to reach out and reassure her that she's going to be all right too, but now isn't the time, and Melissa needs my help.

I get up from my chair and go to Melissa's other side, kneeling next to her. “'Lissa... 'Lissa, look at me.”

She sniffles and pulls her head from Katrina's shoulder. “What?”

“You didn't know. It's okay, and we can move on from here,” I reassure her. “Now, I know it's going to be hard, but I'm going to ask you to do something I've never asked you before. You've done it on your own, but now I'm asking you instead. I need you to harden up, and deal with it. We all screwed up last night. Look around the table. Everyone but Jackson and BA have some guilt for what happened this morning. But if what's going to happen is what I think might happen, we need each and every one of us going full-on to protect our family. I love you 'Lissa, and I've always protected you, because you protected me first, but now we need you to protect someone else.”

“Who?” Melissa asks, her eyes clearing up as she sniffs back the snot in her nose. “Who can I protect? I'm a wreck who can barely take care of herself.”

“BA,” I say softly. “We're going to have to set up a safety net, a hierarchy. We all protect each other, and we'll protect you, but most of all, you need to protect BA. She's your niece, and if we were innocent long ago, she's even more innocent. You don't want her to fall victim to Peter's evil, right?”

Melissa nods, her eyes hardening. “No way. Okay... I'll do my best.”

“I know you will. That's why I love you so much.”

Jackson's phone buzzes, and he looks at it. “That was Nathan. He says he's got a tail, he's trying to lose it. He'll be delayed about ten minutes. Carson, you mind having a talk outside? I could use some fresh air.”

“Sure. You mind helping me in the barn? I'd say after this morning, my gun collection needs more than just to sit in my cabinet.”

“That sounds good. You girls will be okay without us?”

Katrina glances at Andrea, who gives her brother a grin. “You know it. Girl power and all that. You boys go do what boys do in barns, playing with your guns. We'll be fine.”

Jackson bumps fists with Andrea, and gives Katrina a meaningful, somewhat smoldering look. There's strength between them, and I hope it's one that I can depend on as things get worse.

I lead Jackson outside to the barn, over to my weapons area. I unlock the cabinet, and turn on the light. “So what's your poison?”

“Glock 17,” Jackson says, “if you've got one. If not, a 1911.”

I give him a look, smiling. “Strange combination there. Any particular reason?”

Jackson chuckles and nods. “Long story. Maybe another time.”

“Well I've got both, so that's not a problem,” I tell him, pulling out a pair of Glock 17s.

“Can I ask you a question since we're out here alone? What did you mean about Melissa protecting you?” Jackson asks as he checks the Glocks I hand him. “I got the impression that you've always been the one who stuck up for her.”

“I have, but not always,” I tell him, thinking back. “Realize that when the Sands died, after Janice's suicide, I was only two years old. Melissa was seven. So at first I didn't understand as we were taken in by our uncle and aunt, except that she for some reason was always angry at Melissa. Me too, actually. I think they would have thrown me out on my ass except that the will stipulated me as the sole beneficiary. My uncle needed to keep me around in order to justify using money from the trust fund for my upbringing. Still, he was unfair about it despite what I said about him earlier. Melissa doesn't say anything, I'm not sure she thinks about it anymore, but at first, Melissa went to public school while I was sent to private daycare, stuff like that. When I was old enough to realize what was happening, I tried to stand up to my uncle, who wasn't the kindest of men. He was old school country, and thought he was the lord and master of his entire property and family. For a little punk like me to try and stand up to him... he beat me... pretty badly.”

“How badly?” Jackson asks, his face written in disgust.

“Broke my wrist, shattered my cheekbone. You can't see the results, the docs did a good job of setting it and puberty took care of the rest, but afterward, I was going to tell the child welfare people. I was eight, and my uncle went for his favorite tool, his baseball bat. It wasn't full-sized, it was one of those kids' models, maybe about eighteen inches long, he used it when he was out in the back fields. Melissa...” I say, getting choked up at the memory, I guess it's been so long since I shared it with anyone, “She got in between us. She was still suffering then, the nightmares and the depression, all of it, but she stood up and protected me. I remember, standing there with my face swelled up, my wrist in a cast from where he broke it earlier, and Melissa's standing there, a kitchen knife in her hand, holding it out and threatening to kill our uncle with it. She stood up to him, and afterward, when he and our aunt left and stayed away for three days on a trial abandonment or something, she took care of me. I couldn't cook for shit obviously, I could barely microwave ramen, and she wasn't much better, but we stayed fed, we stayed cleaned, and we stayed together. I'd been sleeping with her before, since I was a toddler and I was the only one who could calm her nightmares, but during those days, she was the one comforting me. From that point on, during the good days or the bad, I've always known one thing. Melissa's only weak until she needs to protect someone else.”

Jackson nods, and picks up the pistols. “I always knew she could. And you're not thinking of ditching us? I'm not trying to be a dick, but so far Peter hasn't directly threatened you or 'Lissa.”

I shake my head, and go to the ammunition portion of my cabinet, taking out boxes of nine millimeter ammo. I don't keep my guns loaded in my cabinet. “Not an option. You're family, Jackson, and I'm not going to abandon family. Now, I do think we need to talk with Nathan about perhaps abandoning the farm for safety reasons, 'Lissa can deal with it, but abandon you guys? Hell no.”

Jackson stops what he's doing and comes over, grabbing me and giving me a hug. “I've never had a brother before. It's good to have one now.”

I clap him on the back, and give him a grin. “Damn right. Now, let's go make sure our family is as safe as we can make it.”

* * *

When Nathan comes in, he's grim, grimmer than I've seen him before. If him and the Grim Reaper were standing in the room together, I think I'd be more afraid of Nathan, the way he looks right now. “Peter is on to me.”

“Well, let's just add some good news to the pile,” Andrea gripes, holding her gun and trying to get comfortable with the grip. It's the smallest pistol I have. Katrina's been working with her, giving her a quick lesson on how to use it. I want to help out, but I still don't trust myself around Andrea, my attraction is just too strong. “How do you know?”

“First off, he lied to me, saying that he was sending his men out to Mobile like I had fed him,” Nathan says, coming in and sitting down. Melissa shifts over to sit next to him, and I can see the look on her face. She's being brave so far, but the presence of the deadly ex-Green Beret is helpful to her, and she draws comfort from having him around. “But more worrisome was that after you guys contacted me, I tried calling him three times. He's not picking up. He has never rejected a call from me, not in all the years I have worked for him.”

“He could just be with a girl,” Melissa offers, and Nathan shakes his head. “Why?”

“Because I have interrupted him mid... well, mid-session before, and he has never said a thing about it,” Nathan says, aware that BA has woken up and is looking around the room, her eyes intent. She seems to understand that the adults are all tense, and she's trying to figure out what's going on, too. “Good idea though, Melissa, but for over a decade when I called, Peter was right there.”

Melissa nods, and I can see in her eyes she's really trying to do what I asked her to do. “Okay. So what do you want us to do, Nathan?”

Nathan gives her a measured look, then looks around at the rest of us. “Are the rest of you on board?”

I look at Jackson and Katrina, who nod immediately. All eyes go to me, and I take a deep breath, then nod as well. “You're the expert. Tell us how we get through this.”