Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(77)

Pausing by the door, I peer through. The light is on, but I can't see anything but a bookcase.

I take a deep breath and swing the door open, glancing at the corner over my shoulder.

There is a soft click-click, the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a gun.

Helen sits in one of the side chairs, facing May across the cocktail table, a small pistol aimed at her daughter's chest.

She looks over at me.

"Hello, Hawk."

"Helen, what are you doing?"

May sits there frozen, trembling, a tear streaming down her face.

"Hawk, shoot her," May pleads.

"Shut up!" Helen snaps.

She sits up and I watch her finger shift, caressing the trigger. The gun is pointed right at May's chin.

"Mom, please," May whimpers.

"I said shut up. Hawk, where’s my husband?"

"I don't know."

"Did you kill him?"

"No."

"Where's my daughter?"

"Alexis is safe."

May lets out a slow breath, only to tense again, staring at the gun pointed at her as if seeing it for the first time.

"Helen, please," I whisper. "You don't want to hurt her."

Helen's arm tenses, and she aims a little higher, right between May's eyes.

"Mommy don't," May sobs, "Please."

"Why not?" she asks. "Our lives are over. Everything’s ruined." She turns her head just a little, to focus one eye on me. "All because of you. You couldn't stay away. I told Tom to kill you and he didn't listen to me. 'I can't kill my own son', " she says, mocking his voice. "He'd justify anything, but not that."

"He killed his first wife. You mean nothing to him. He wanted to f*ck Alexis."

She laughs bitterly. "Don't you think I know?"

"He'd have killed you too, just like my mother."

She laughs louder now, and May tenses, rearing back in the seat. The gun is shaking.

"Did he, he killed her, right?"

"Yes, I found proof, that's why he sent me away-"

"He wasn't doing a web search on the poison to figure out how to kill your mother, you dolt," she snaps. "He wanted to figure out how I did it."

A heavy silence falls on the room.

"What?"

"I killed her," she hisses. "I did it. Me. I put the pesticide in her coffee myself. I took your father's key and had a duplicate made. I came in the house and put it in her coffee pot and she drank it and she died."

"Fuck," I mutter.

"He knew, of course. We never discussed it, but we understood. We'd been f*cking since my husband died. Do you want to know the first time? At my husband's funeral. After. Jack could’ve been anything he wanted, he could’ve been rich, but he wouldn't leave this shitty little town. Tom’s a man of ambition, a man of understanding. A man of power. Your stupid bitch of a mother couldn't understand that, she was talking to the wrong people, she was going to ruin everything. So I got rid of her and Tom got rid of you. We couldn't have you prowling around my daughter, f*cking his stepdaughter. That wouldn't do." Her voice rises. "I hitched my wagon to a rising star."

She extends her arm again.

"You ruined it," she hisses at me, "You ruined it all. All this embarrassment, and now the police will be asking questions. How are we supposed to run a mayoral campaign now? Tell me, Hawk."

"Helen, put the gun down. It's May. Your little girl."

May sucks in a breath and tenses.

"There's nothing left for any of us now," she says. "I was going to be a senator's wife. My daughters would go to the best schools, marry the best men." She glances at me, contempt twisting her features. "Now what are they going to be? Waitresses? Like I was?"

"Put the gun down, Helen."

"Or what, you'll shoot me?"

She sits up and moves the gun closer to May, and her arm starts to shake. I have no choice. I snap Jennifer's gun up and aim at her.

"Helen, if you don't put that gun down I'm going to drop you."

"Why not?" she hisses. "You stupid bastard, you already ruined everything. I should-"

Her finger starts to tighten.

Mine does first.

I could hit her in the head from here. It'd be easy, child's play really, it's only a few feet. My shot hits her in the arm, midway between elbow and shoulder, and May ducks, throwing herself to the floor. Blood paints the bookcases and Helen topples out of the chair, screaming.

Her hand flew open as she fell, but the gun is still in reach. She goes for it left handed, and May, screaming and sobbing, kicks it across the room.

I stick mine behind my back and take May by the shoulders.

"Look at me."

She's losing it, screaming and crying.

"Look at me, honey."

She calms a little, her jaw still trembling.

"She's going to be okay. Run into the kitchen and call us an ambulance. Go now."

May nods and runs, sobbing.

I move to Helen's side, and roll her onto her back. She moans, and looks up at me.

"You bastard," she hisses. "You were supposed to kill me."