Single Mom’s Firemen: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)
Chapter 33

I have no right to judge Chase’s actions, even if they do go against our principles. We accepted this before when our lives depended on it. We will accept it again now because Halle’s life depends on it. I’ll get over the discomfort and so will Eric. Truth be told, Chase made a valid point earlier. He did save us precious time.

Every second counts and as we approach Darcy Street, I can only hope it wasn’t all for naught. My stomach tightens and churns, angrily burning as we pull over between two residents’ sedans. This used to be one of the nicer neighborhoods of Dallas.

Harriet’s mother didn’t live in sheer luxury from the looks of it. I wonder how Harriet’s life was growing up, why she turned out the way she did. She’s partly responsible for the creation of Colby as we know him.

In the past few decades, this neighborhood lost a lot of its real estate value. Houses came down in favor of apartment buildings. This was the only block left intact. It appears untouched by time, literally. Half of the street is uninhabited. The front yards are unkempt, overflowing with shrubs and dried weeds. Some of the roofs and windows have holes in them. It’s a sad thing to look at. Whoever erected those apartment buildings didn’t expect the financial crisis to hit when it did.

“There it is,” Eric says, nodding ahead.

It’s a two-story house with pale yellow siding and once-white French-style windows, in relative shambles. The picket fence is almost completely knocked down, chunks of wood hanging like dirty, crooked teeth. There aren’t any cars parked in the driveway, but there’s an SUV further up the road, standing out like a sore thumb.

Colby needs to keep his getaway ride close so it’s a chance he had to take. Fortunately for him, the property hasn’t been in his grandmother’s name in a long time, which is why the cops never came to this area during their search for him. Harriet smartly sold it to a family friend some years ago, just to keep it out of her financial records.

“We need a clear plan,” Chase says as we cautiously approach the house.

I look around and notice a pair of curtains moving across the street. A neighbor. Or maybe a vagrant. The place looks abandoned, just like the others.

“Let’s go around the back,” I advise with caution.

We keep a low profile as we slip between two houses and reach the back alley, where it’s even more dismal. Just dust and dirt and dried weeds. Chain link fences surround backyards that haven’t felt the love of a lawnmower in years.

Eric uses his binoculars from a safe angle to peek into the house. We’re hidden beneath tall bushes and the thickening darkness of the night. “I see four men on the ground floor,” he whispers. “Two in the kitchen and two in the living room.”

“Halle? The kids?” Chase asks.

“I can’t see Halle from here,” Eric says. “There’s a woman up by the top floor window, eastern corner. Not Halle.”

“Switch to body heat,” I tell him.

Eric nods and goes through his gear pack. Once he’s got the right goggles on, he takes another gander at the house. It feels like forever before we have a clearer reading of the interior.

“Two people in the bedroom,” Eric says. “Ground floor. I’m guessing that’s the master. One on the bed, the other moving around.”

My heart skips a couple of anxious beats. “Halle. Colby.”

“Most likely. Their frames match,” Eric replies. “Like I said, two men in the kitchen. Two in the living room. One by each window, so we need to create a diversion.”

“Top floor again?” Chase asks.

“One female. Two small children.”

“Colby has a woman with Luna and Sammy,” I conclude. “How do we do this?”

Eric thinks about it for a moment. A familiar silence falls over us while I glance around and analyze every single detail in sight. The backyard is wild looking, and with the darkness of the night, it’ll give us a brief advantage. We’ll make it through the back door. We might even reach the master bedroom before it’s too late. But the goons in the living room will come charging at us. Or worse—they’ll go upstairs and use the kids as leverage. The prospect fills me with dread.

“We’ll split up,” Eric says.

“What about Charlie?” I ask again. “We agreed to call him once we got a line on Colby.”

He nods slowly. “It’ll take a while before they get here. And Colby has to be super paranoid by this point. I think it’ll fall on the three of us to take him and his people out, or at least get him to leave the house and let Charlie catch up.” He pauses to send a text message. “Alright, we’ve got about eight to ten minutes before this whole block is teeming with SWAT vans.”

“At least we know there’s backup coming.” I dare breathe a sigh of relief as I check my weapons and ammunition. I’ve got enough to do quite the damage on my own, though I’d rather not. “You said split up. What’s the plan?”

Eric looks at me. “You need to do what you do best. See that lattice?”

I glance back at the house. Yeah, I see the lattice. An ancient contraption made of mostly rotted wood. Years ago, I imagine it was white and elegant and covered with climbing roses. I have no choice but to climb it since it gives me direct access to that top floor bedroom window.

“I’ve got the kids, then.”

“Once you’re in, we’re in. It’ll take seconds if we’re smart and quiet,” Eric says, then gives Chase a persistent glare. “Smart and quiet.”

“Guess I’m going in first,” Chase replies with a dry grin. “You talk too much, anyway.”

What follows is a flurry of events that I register but don’t fully focus on. It’s as if my mind and my body completely dissociate, letting my instincts take over. My heart swells and throbs in an almost painful rhythm as I crawl through the backyard like a snake before reaching the lattice. My brothers are waiting further back. They won’t move until they see me inside. It all hangs on my shoulders for the time being.

Slowly, I take a look at the back porch and the kitchen window, Eric’s voice guiding me through my earpiece. “Wait,” he says. I’m guessing we need one of the guards to move away from the window, at least long enough for me to take my leap of faith. “Now. Go, go.”

I go.

I jump out of the bushes and onto the lattice. I curse under my breath as I realize it might not hold me the entire way up, but I brought a length of rope and titanium clips for this exact reason. Hell, I can climb the lattice, but I won’t be able to come down with the kids as extra weight, not without the whole thing collapsing.

“Are you okay?” Eric asks.

“I need a moment. The lattice won’t hold,” I whisper.

“We’re waiting.”

I take a deep breath and carefully climb upward. My grip is tight, but not tight enough to rip through the rotten wood. It feels as though it might actually hold me after all. Or maybe that’s just my hopeful side yammering between my ears. Slowly, I manage to put a foot up, then another, my hands evenly pulling me higher.

“Don’t move,” Eric says.

“Fuck,” I grumble. The tension in my body makes everything feel tight enough as it is.

“He’s at the window again and you’re still in his vision range. Give it a few seconds.”

Fuuuuuuck. I can feel my left hand slipping. Sweat drips down my forehead, tickling the corners of my eyes. I try to blink it away.

“Go.”

Finally. I reach for the edge of the roof and grab it with confidence. The wood up here is harder and thicker than the lattice itself. I can hear the crackle underneath my right foot, so I pull myself up and onto the roof before the lattice gives out, then quickly unravel the rope and attach the clips to the roof. It will hold the three of us safely.

Time is of the essence and so is discretion.

I sneak up to the bedroom window and look inside. The woman I saw earlier is sitting with Luna and Sammy on the floor, playing with several toys. I recognize Sammy’s favorite dinosaur and Luna’s baby doll. They never leave home without them.

The woman appears in her late twenties, a redhead with smudged mascara and acid-washed jeans. The tattoos and needle marks on her bony arms tell me she’s not the kind of girl he’d bring home to meet his mother.

I take a deep breath and notice the window is cracked open. Good. I don’t have to break it. I pull it upward and slip inside, then quickly take my gun out and point it at the girl.

“Wyatt!” Luna exclaims.

“Shush,” I whisper and bring one finger to my lips while keeping the gun trained on the woman, who is paralyzed with shock and fear. “Honey, get your brother and come over here, as quietly as possible,” I tell Luna.” I look at the woman and say, “You need to keep your mouth shut.”

“What are you gonna do, shoot me in front of the children?” she hisses, but I can tell that she is absolutely terrified.

“Don’t test me. You’re not in a position to gamble with your life, not when you’ve got Colby Nash downstairs,” I reply. “Come on, kids, we’re going home.”

“What about Mama?” Sammy whines.

“Chase and Eric are getting her in a minute, I promise,” I tell them, watching as the kids collect their toys and stuff them in their cute little backpacks, then waddle over to my side of the room. The woman moves toward the door. “What’s your name?”

“Miranda.”

“Miranda, if you move another inch, I swear I will end you.”

“They’ll hear you.”

“See this cylinder at the end of my gun?” I ask, half-smiling. And there it is. The realization. “They won’t hear a thing. Is it really worth it? I’ll pay you twice as much as what Colby is paying you if you stay quiet, sit tight, and keep your hands up, especially when the cops arrive.”

Miranda stares at me with confusion. “Who the hell are you?”

“Not someone you want to mess with,” I bluntly reply. “Do we have a deal?”

“Show me the money first.”

Wow, that was fast. Then again, why would I expect Colby to have any true friends, given the string of terrible decisions that he’s made over the years. The man pays for affection, attention, and loyalty. But he is not invincible, nor as slippery as he thinks.

“Luna, honey, can you reach into my back pocket, please?” I ask, then wait for her to pull my wallet out. “Attagirl.” I look at Miranda again. “How much?”

“How much you got on you?”

“Got more in the bank and I’m a man of my word.”

“How much you got on you?” she asks me again.

This is going to be easier than I thought. It shouldn’t shock me, though. I’ve seen what Colby is capable of, and having a gun pointed at one’s head does make one rethink their options and future decisions in a matter of split seconds. “Show me the wallet, Luna?” I tell my sweet baby girl. Yeah, she’s more my kid than Colby’s. She’s our kid, both her and Sammy. They’re our family, and we’re getting our family back. “Alright, thank you, honey. Please take the money out now,” I add, then give Miranda a wry smile. “Five hundred.”

“All of it?” Luna asks.

“Yep. And give it to Miranda, please.”

With delicate but controlled gestures, Luna takes the cash out of my wallet. She shoves it back into my pocket, then walks over and gives Miranda the money. A moment later, she’s by my side again, with Sammy in tow.

“What do I have to do?” Miranda asks quietly, her gaze lowered in shame as she counts the bills, then shoves them in her pink bra, clearly visible beneath a semi-transparent lilac top.

“I already told you. Stay quiet, stay put, and keep your hands up when the police arrive,” I reply. “We’ll make sure they know you’re unarmed and cooperative.”

Miranda nods once. “Don’t tell Colby. Tell him you hit me or something.”

“Trust me, where he’s going, he’s not gonna care,” I say, then alert my brothers by pressing the comms button on my earpiece. “Green light, fellas. We’re coming out now.”

“Roger that.”

I know what’s coming. I hope Colby doesn’t. Up to this point, I’ve been an advocate for a peaceful surrender, a clean operation that would yield as few bodies as possible. I’ve been sympathetic toward Chase’s inner turmoil, as well, but I was adamant that nobody else should get hurt in the process. Yet all it took was one look at Sammy and Luna—seeing the confusion and the fear marring their sweet, sunny features, understanding how traumatic everything has been for them, realizing how fragile and innocent they are in all of this—and my softer side hardens into cold, merciless steel.

For the first time since we started this, I replace myself agreeing that the world would be better off if this were Colby’s last day on earth. Knowing Chase as well as I do, I’m pretty sure it is, unless somebody throws another wrench at our wheels. We’ve had plenty of those, lately.

“Come on, let’s get you munchkins home,” I say, trying to keep as calm as possible as I guide the kids over to the window. “How’s your mom?”

“You have to get Mama,” Luna says with deep concern on her face. “Daddy said she was gonna be okay, but I don’t believe him.”

I need another breath for this. The fear of losing Halle hits like a tidal wave crashing into me. I can feel myself crumbling on the inside, but I know I need to get the children out of here. I trust Eric and Chase to handle their part of the mission while I do my job. Halle would want Sammy and Luna as far away from this nightmare as possible, and I’m going to make sure that happens.

“We’re gonna go out the window,” I tell them. “So I need both of you to climb onto me. Imagine I’m a tree, okay?”

They both nod in wary unison.

“Did you bring that cool ladder again?” Sammy asks, remembering the night of the diner fire. It tears my heart to know that he may never forget about that. That it may haunt him for the rest of his life.

“No, kiddo, but I’ve got a really cool rope. We’re gonna be like super spies and sneak out of here. I need you both to hold onto me really tight and don’t let go, okay?”

As soon as I help Luna climb out the window, I hear the door bursting open downstairs at the same time a loud bang tears through the living room. The shitshow is about to begin, and I need the children out of Colby’s reach.

“Oh, shit!” Miranda gasps.

“Stay calm, don’t move,” I remind her as I get Sammy out.

A moment later, I join them on the roof. They wrap their arms and legs around me while I grab the rope and prepare for a rapid, swift descent.