Chapter 9
“NO!” I screamed.
I ran at Richard.
Threw my body at him.
We both went crashing into the coffee table.
The gun went off.
The bullet hit the ceiling.
Richard hit his head on the corner of the table.
Dropped the gun.
I scrambled to grab it.
Got to my feet.
Held it with both hands.
Just like Jake had taught me at the shooting range a few years before.
“Don’t move,” I said, my voice shaking.
Richard groaned.
Tried to get up.
“I said don’t move!” I yelled.
I cocked the gun.
He froze.
Sirens wailed outside.
Blue and red lights flashing through the windows.
Police ran in.
Guns drawn.
“Drop the weapon!” one of them yelled.
I dropped the gun.
Put my hands up.
They ran past me.
Cuffed Richard.
Pulled him to his feet.
He looked at me.
Spit on the floor.
“Bitch,” he said.
Two officers led him out.
Another knelt down next to Jake.
“Ambulance is on the way,” he said.
I ran to Jake.
Knelt beside him.
His shirt was soaked with blood.
“Baby, look at me,” I said, tears running down my face. “You’re going to be okay. You hear me? You’re going to be okay.”
Jake smiled.
Weak.
“Told you that shooting range trip would come in handy,” he said.
I laughed through my tears.
The ambulance arrived five minutes later.
They took Jake to the hospital.
The bullet had gone straight through his shoulder.
No major damage.
He’d be sore for a few months, but he’d be fine.
Vanessa and Mom showed up an hour later.
Vanessa had a duffel bag with her.
Mom had a cooler full of soup.
They stayed with us for the next two weeks.
Vanessa changed his bandages.
Mom made him every meal.
I sat by his bed and held his hand.
Richard never made bail again.
The judge denied it.
Said he was a flight risk and a danger to the community.
His trial was set for six months later.
Ethan testified against him.
Mom testified.
Jake testified.
The evidence was overwhelming.
The jury deliberated for three hours.
Guilty on all counts.
Murder in the first degree.
Fraud.
Embezzlement.
Attempted murder.
The judge sentenced him to life in prison without parole.
No chance of ever getting out.
We walked out of the courthouse together.
Me, Jake, Mom, Vanessa.
The sun was shining.
Reporters yelled questions at us.
We didn’t answer.
We just walked to the car.
Got in.
Drove away.
May you like
“Where to?” Jake said, putting the car in drive.
“Home,” I said.
