Darling Wildfire (Red Rabbit #2)

27

THERON

The next morning I went out on a little rowboat.

Emy sat across from me, determined to catch a fish of her own. I’d allowed the boat to drift around a little curve of the bank and sat and readied her line for her.

“Alright, let’s see if you can catch one bigger than Cole’s,”

I said and winked at her.

She smirked at me, an almost comical expression on her young face. It made her eyes scrunch up, and I bit back a laugh.

“I can do that—I always beat him.”

“You two are competitive for sure,”

I said dryly, handing her the fishing pole.

“Well, I am older,”

she said, lifting her nose in the air as she cast the line out.

“You’re twins,”

I said flatly. “You’re the same age.”

“Yeah, but mom said I came out first!”

She said proudly.

I chuckled, letting her have it. I watched her as she settled back to wait for her fish to bite. I had no idea where she got her bright blond hair from. Whit showed me pictures of when she was younger and her hair had been a dark blond so she said Emersyn’s hair would probably darken with age like hers had, but right now it was as bright as a wheat field at sunset.

She might have Whit’s hair, but she had my eyes. Blue eyes, nearly gray, stared out over the world with the wonder and curiosity of a child. I sighed, thinking about all the men I’d have to beat off of her when she was older. She was going to be a beautiful handful.

Emy’s line bobbed and her eyes lit up excitedly.

“I got one!”

“Bring it in easy,”

I said, leaning forward with the net ready.

She bit her lip in concentration, brow furrowed as she brought the line in, the thrashing fish sending up splashes the closer it got. By the time it was flopping on the bottom of the boat, Emy’s face was flushed with victory, already gloating.

“It’s so much bigger,”

she said smugly as she watched me pull out the hook.

“Well, pick it up, let’s document it.”

I showed her where to pick it up, and she lifted it as I pulled out my phone. She smirked for the camera and I took the picture, smiling down at it afterwards. As much as she tried to be smug, the look on her face in the picture was one of pure childish joy for beating her brother.

“I want to bring it home,” she said.

“Okay, if we do that, you have to kill it and we’ll have it for dinner.”

She looked at me then back down at the fish for a long moment, watching it gasp for air as its struggles diminished the longer it was out of the water.

“How do I kill it?”

She asked.

I pulled my knife from my belt and laid it against the fish.

“Cut here.”

I flipped the knife and handed it to her by the hilt.

“Careful, it's sharp.”

“I know, dad,”

she whined.

I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, handing a knife to a ten-year-old. The blade looked comically large in her smaller hand. But I’d learned how to hunt at an early age and if my kids wanted to learn, I was more than eager to teach them.

Emy laid the knife on the fish, grasping the body as well as she could with her other hand. The fish thrashed again, and she almost lost her grip. I made my hands lay flat against my thighs, worry washing over me at the thought of the knife slipping and cutting her. But she adjusted and put her weight into it, then dug the blade into the fish. When it was dead, she looked up with pride.

“Good job,”

I said, reaching out for the knife. I could see she wanted to try and hand it back the way I’d done, but I grabbed her wrist before she could handle the blade. “Do you want to try and catch another?”

“No, let’s go home and show Cole!”

We docked the boat on the shore and Emy picked up her fish. I slung my arm around her small shoulders and kissed her hair.

“You did good,”

I said. “I’ll have to show you how to—”

The crunch of gravel caught my attention, cutting off my words. Two black SUVs pulled up around the front of the house. Five men with assault rifles climbed out the first one. Followed by six in the second.

They hadn’t seen us yet. Without a second thought, I pulled Emy behind a tree and knelt down in front of her.

“Who are they?”

Emy asked apprehensively.

I had no idea, but it didn’t look good.

I took her by the shoulders and met her gaze. “I want you to run into those woods and hide. Do not come out until I come find you, understand?”

“What about mom and Cole?”

“I’ll get them.”

I looked back at the house. One man appeared around the corner of the wrap-around porch, sweeping the backyard. I pulled out my knife and wrapped her hands around it.

“If anyone but me comes after you—aim here—”

I pointed to a few areas on me. “—or here.”

Her lip quivered as she stared at the knife in her hand. I pulled her chin up so she had to meet my eyes.

“Got it?”

I tried to keep my voice level and calm but I could tell I was scaring her.

“Emy, do you understand?”

Her eyes widened and filled with tears but she nodded quickly. I grabbed her head and pulled her in, kissing her fiercely on the forehead before pulling back and meeting her eyes. I didn’t want to leave her like this—unprotected—and my heart lodged in my throat.

“Can you be brave for me?”

A nod. “That’s my girl. I love you. Now—go!”

I turned her and lightly shoved her towards the trees. She took a few steps and turned back.

“Go!”

I barked, and she took off.

My heart lurched again, but I shoved aside my fears and let my military training surface as I drew my .45 and stepped out from behind the trees. I was yards from the porch when the man turned. I put a bullet in his head and took the stairs in one leap to grab his AR and some extra ammo. I checked the gun quickly before moving towards the back door.

I didn’t stop to wonder who these men were. Their gear was generic and gave away nothing regarding what organization they were working for. The weapons were military grade, but that didn’t mean anything. They could be contractors, hired hit men—I didn’t know. The only thing on my mind was getting Whit and Cole out safely.

I carefully opened the back door and edged inside. I cleared the living room and heard hushed voices from the kitchen. Edging around the corner, I carefully revealed the kitchen, keeping out of sight. There were two men standing on the other side of the island. I stepped out and pulled the trigger.

I dropped both men before I had to lunge for the cover of the island as the gunfire drew a man in from the family room. He walked in spraying bullets. I stayed low and watched his reflection in the oven before I leaned out and fired, hitting him in the leg. He went down, and I quickly stepped out to finish him.

Heading for the doorway of the family room, a man rushed in with no regard for his corners. I grabbed his gun before he could fire point blank. I slammed my elbow into his face just as arms wrapped around me. I backed hard into the wall, heard a grunt, and quickly turned my gun to fire into his stomach. His grip loosened enough for me to lunge forward and tackle the other one into the family room.

I lost my gun in the scuffle and dodged to the side as he came at me with a knife. I met his attack with a sharp hit to his neck that sent him crashing backwards into the coffee table. I lunged for the gun at the same time as the other man and once I grabbed it; I twisted onto my back and shot him in the face. He fell forward onto me.

I shoved him off and heard movement upstairs as the floorboards creaked. Fear clawed its way through my composure again as I made my way up the stairs, clearing the hallway and each room along it. I held my breath as I nudged open the kid’s room but it was empty.

I saw the master bedroom door cracked and headed towards it, already knowing I wasn’t going to like what I found.

I pushed open the door.