Good. She could get him the hell out of the house and that gun away from her mother. “Jacks is right, mom. We’ve gotta go.”

The stench of sweat and liquor overpowered the room. He lowered the weapon slightly but kept a finger on the trigger. She knew how ultra-sensitive that trigger was. A slight breeze on the right setting would slip it to fast action.

“Let’s go. Nice to meet you, Janet.”

The back door opened and slammed shut. Grumbling and laughing male voices overwhelmed the house.

Damn it, she was so close. “Jacks. Come on.”

Roman called out from the kitchen, cabinet doors opening and closing. “Mom, we’re starvin’.”

Jackson’s eyes darted toward the voices. His voice slurred. “Who’s that?”

“Just my family, Jacks. No one who needs—”

Cash and Roman both rounded the corner and cursed. Her dad slammed into the twosome when they pulled up short.

Jackson leveled the shotgun on the men and pleaded. “He’s here. Nic, you didn’t say Cash was here. Nic, why didn’t you tell me? Nic?” With a pendulum swing, Jackson swayed unsteadily, the shotgun now aimed at her. “Nicola?”

All hell is about to break loose. She could feel it. She didn’t know which way it was coming from first, but they all teetered on the edge of disaster and watched to see who jumped first.

Nicola drilled her eyes to Jackson, mentally pleading with him. In her peripheral vision, Roman, Cash, and Dad flicked glances past her and Jackson. Another round of hair-raising gut instinct took over.

Crash.

The rush came before she even heard it. Nic wasn’t sure what her body was doing, but trusted her training. Everything else was in slow motion. Glass shattered from the windows. Roman grabbed their mother, tossing her to Dad. Cash grabbed Jackson. Nic jumped out of the way but was knocked down. Definite yelling, definite firings. The sting and burn of glass exploding scrambled her senses.

And when she tried to look up, she saw the red. Everything burned. Her nose ran, eyes running. Cash had her on her feet now. What the hell is going on? But she couldn’t stand on her own, that much she knew. Her face. Her arm was on fire. Help me.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Everything burned. Nothing made sense. The only thing that kept her from screaming was that she was hurt. Not her parents. Not her brother. Not Cash. Nicola could deal with her pain. No one else’s though. She’d brought enough hurt home already.

Hands touched her face. Damn it. “Stings… Burns.” And smells?

“Get her to the bathroom.” A woman, not her mother, ordered.

The dizzy spin in her head was confusing. Who all was there? Cash’s strong hands lifted her. She knew the feel of his touch, the definition of his chest. Even if she couldn’t open her eyes, she knew Cash’s arms.

“What is that stuff?” Now that was definitely her mom. She sounded concerned, not hurt. But damn if she didn’t want to concern her mom ever again.