EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [crime books to read txt] 📗

nasty glint shining in their eyes, ready to sink their claws in. One ripped open the backpack, rooting through it until he found the nylon bag. Opening it up, he scattered Max’s clothes and shoes over the pavement. “Nothing here,” he said. Kathleen swallowed hard, thinking they were probably looking for the gun, thinking about what Rhonda had said.

If she had to grovel, she would. If she had to apologize for simply being a woman on the road, she would. Protect your daughter at all costs.

“We’re sorry you feel you’ve been disrespected,” she started, and even saying something so untrue made her skin crawl, “but my daughter and I are simply trying to get home. We have nothing you’d want.”

“Hear that, Andrew? She’s sorry you feel disrespected,” one of the men hooted.

Kathleen raised her voice to drown the others out. “If we offended you, we’re sorry. We meant no harm. Everyone is frazzled and stressed with everything that’s going on. We both jumped to conclusions when I saw you with my daughter back in Chicago. I know a group of good men like you wouldn’t mean her any harm.”

Next to her, Allison made a buzzing sound of anger. Kathleen refused to look at her, knowing she’d see her daughter flushed with fury. If Kathleen showed Allison she was bluffing for even a second, Allison wouldn’t be able to lie to the men. She wouldn’t be able to grovel. Kathleen had to do the hard part and degrade herself in front of these men to keep them both safe. She bent down and grabbed Allison’s backpack, opening it and showing the men what was inside. They peered at the food and water bottles, but Andrew didn’t look phased. Kathleen zipped it back up and handed it to Allison. Allison slung it over her shoulders with bold, defiant motions, as if daring the men to come and take it from her.

Andrew crept closer, the smirk turning into a frown as he stared into Kathleen’s face. “Really now. You’re sorry for what you did back in Chicago? Sorry for shoving a gun into my face?”

“Yes,” Kathleen said, her throat dry. “We’re just trying to get home. Please, let us. You have good hearts, don’t you? I know you do.”

“It’s funny,” Andrew drawled, “I’m familiar with what a woman looks like when she lies and you’re doing it right now without even blinking. You’re a pretty good liar, aren’t you? I really hate liars, though.”

“I’m not—”

The slap rocked her backwards, exploded her world into blackness and stars. Dimly, she realized she’d fallen backwards and landed on her knees. Hands scrambled at her shoulders, pulling her, and she realized Allison was trying to help her up.

He hit me.

Gravel and glass from old wrecks and shattered bottles cut into her hand. Blood filled her mouth. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek. A ringing took up in her ears. She thought she heard Allison scream and the scuffle of shoes being dragged along the ground. Something soft smacked her and the jingle of a zipper. Her pack, being thrown back at her.

He hit me.

Kathleen’s fists clenched, pressing the gravel embedded in her palms deeper. She had never been a violent woman. She’d never been struck in anger or rage before; honestly, no one had ever hit her in her life. She’d never hit anyone in retaliation. She always looked down on those who took advantage of the less fortunate. Violence had seemed silly when problems could be worked out with words instead of fists. Now here she was: her cheekbone throbbing, her eyes pinched and watering in pain, her pride wounded. Battered on the side of the road.

The leather belt along her waist had warmed to her body heat. The gun felt like a solution to a question she didn’t want to ask.

Protect your daughter at all costs.

Allison cried out again, this time her anger sounding farther away and threaded through with fear. The sun warmed Kathleen’s back, providing clarity as sharp as a razor blade. She knew what she had to do. Max, thank you for looking out for me. For us.

Her hand reached behind her and slipped under her sweat-soaked shirt.

I don’t know why you needed this, but I don’t care. The gun was solid in her hands and came out of the holster easily. I’m grateful you sent it to me. She laughed internally, said the motto that had somehow become their secret mantra. Virginia is for Lovers.

25

Andrew. What a normal name, Andrew. Who knew that a man named Andrew would be the one to backhand her. That a man named Andrew would be the reason Kathleen had blood in her mouth.

Kathleen staggered to her feet as the world sloshed to the side before intensely re-focusing. She took one step back and kept her arms tucked behind her, hiding the gun against her backside and leg. The molded plastic and metal felt grounding, something she could trust to defend herself and her daughter. Her eyes fixed on Allison, who was clutched close to a man with blue coveralls and a bucktoothed smile. His hand gripped her neck, his other arm wrapped around her waist and holding her steady with a hand on her hip. Allison’s blue eyes flashed in terror as a dark understanding passed between her and Kathleen.

Kathleen knew if Andrew managed to backhand her again, getting up would be much harder the second time around. He wouldn’t stop there and would most likely do anything to keep her down. She stepped over her backpack, bent her knees, and steadied her stance. If she didn’t do something, it wouldn’t be simply her life at risk. The man pawing at her daughter would take so much more from them both if Kathleen didn’t do something.

She’d been nice. She’d begged and asked and pleaded. Allison was under Kathleen’s protection and she’d go down fighting if it meant she kept her daughter safe.

Andrew took a step closer to her. Kathleen whipped her arms around,