32. Jamison

"She's not going to hurt me. She's not going to hurt us," Evie raged in Samuel's arms while he blocked her from seeing the gore. "I fought back. I fought back, and she can't have us."

On the ground, Holden's blood stained the sidewalk. "The bitch sliced me pretty good," he groaned as Liam applied pressure to the stab wound on his shoulder. "You should have blown her fucking brains out."

The ultrasound tech's white tennis shoes poked out of the bushes where her body had landed, a single red streak staining them. Approaching slowly, Jamison kicked away the scalpel Pam had used to slit her own throat.

"She's dead."

Gun still drawn, Liam continued to keep pressure on Holden's shoulder. "Do not go near her, Jamison."

Ignoring him, she crouched down to get a better look at Pam's ankle. "She's marked. Zanmi."

Sirens in the distance grew louder, and Samuel pressed Evie's trembling frame against his chest as if he could absorb her fear into him.

"Jamison, switch with me." Liam had ripped his shirt off and was using it to add pressure to the deep gash on Holden's lower neck left by Pam's scalpel. "I need to check her before the cops arrive."

Hurrying over, she listened as he quickly instructed her on what to do. "Judging by the blood loss, an artery has likely been nicked. You only need to apply a medium amount of pressure. We don't want it tearing further."

"Yeah, please don't do that," Holden tried to joke. "I'm already lightheaded enough."

When he thought she had it down, Liam rose to stand. "Evie?"

Squirming in her husband's death grip, Evie turned slightly to see him. "I'm okay, Cohen. I fought back."

"You did good." Liam met Samuel's gaze over Evie's head. "She did good."

Taking a deep inhale through the nose, Samuel cradled the back of his wife's head. He was losing it. Shaking as hard as Evie, Jamison had never seen her brother so scared.

"This is the end of it, Liam." Samuel enveloped Evie in his arms again. "No more."

Focusing on applying the right amount of pressure to Holden, Jamison told herself they wouldn't risk doing something stupid. Right now, Samuel was talking out of fear, the rush of adrenaline pushing him too far.

Liam didn't respond and went over to examine Pam. He showed no respect to the body, rifling through pockets and lifting Pam's head by her curly hair to check the wound along her throat.

Seconds after he finished, police cars and ambulances skidded to a halt in the parking lot. No one moved or spoke except Liam, who returned to where they waited and laid his weapon on the ground next to Holden's gun.

The earthquake inside took over, and Jamison couldn't stop trembling. Her being in danger was one thing, but when it was Evie…the shock of running outside to see her sister held at knifepoint was something she would never get over. Not in a lifetime. Nor would she ever get over the sight of Liam with his gun aimed at the back of Pam's head, or Evie elbowing the woman in the stomach while Holden wrestled her free.

It was only when Pam realized she had lost that she attacked. First, stabbing Holden and barely missing Evie before swiping the blade across her own throat. The bitch had gone down with a smile on her face, a look of pure joy as her story ended.

Medical personnel rushed to Holden, relieving her of pressure duty so they could take him to the waiting ambulance. Liam spoke with the Port Michaelson police as the crowd grew. Ignoring everyone, Samuel ushered Evie to their car, ordering Jamison to follow. An officer tried to stop them, but senior officials gathering recognized who they were and let them go.

Occasionally, being a Fairweather had its benefits.

On the drive to Haven, Samuel's phone pinged every so often with a message, but he ignored it, holding Evie's hand. The cold rage radiating from him brought Jamison back to the graveyard and the moment her brother's humanity snapped. He had never fully healed. None of them had, but with Samuel, it was unfinished business. Toby was his unfinished business. Their cousin being alive and able to haunt them like so many of the other ghosts in their lives was solely his burden to bear.

At least in his mind.

"Samuel?" Squished between the girl's car seats in the back of the SUV, Jamison rubbed her sister's shoulder. "Samuel, she's okay."

While her husband was quiet in his rage, Evie was letting it out. There were no tears or panicked hysterics, only a fury like Jamison hadn't known her sister could carry.

"Her blood is on me." Evie's nose scrunched as she rocked in her seat. "I-I wore a pretty blue shirt for a boy, and that bitch got her blood all over it."

Samuel turned off the highway, flying down Haven's road as Izzy's rental car sped past them in the opposite direction with Rowan on his bike behind her. Liam must have called, or else the news hit the media already.

"Don't run Dad over," Jamison said to Samuel.

Their father was standing in the middle of the driveway, and nearly ripped Evie from the car when Samuel stopped.

"I'm okay, Ben." Tears welled in Evie's eyes when he pulled her in for a hug. "I fought back," she said, crumbling finally. "They can't have us."

"You're so brave, kid."

Samuel didn't speak as he got out of the car, stalking through the Hollingsdale PD scattered on the lawn to reach the porch. "He's not okay," Jamison said to her father when Evie left to follow. "He's about to lose it."

They watched as Samuel snatched up the girls, placing one on each hip to march back to the car while Simone held Evie.

"They're both about to break, and need to take the girls home," her father replied. "Samuel will feel more secure there."

"Mama is dirty," Theo cried, sensing something was wrong as Samuel returned to the car. "She need a bath."

Fake smile in place, Samuel nodded. "With bubbles? Mama likes her bubbles."

"How did she get all that stuff on her?" Harper asked. She was entirely too grown to carry, but Jamison didn't think Samuel cared at the moment. "It looks weird."

"They use this goo for the ultrasound, and it got on her," Samuel explained, helping them into the backseat. "Are you guys excited for a baby brother?"

The girls jabbered on about the baby being a boy while Samuel buckled them in. Once he made sure they were secure, he shut the door, the fake smile gone.

"I'm taking my family home."

Their father placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going with you."

"You have to stay here until… until someone we can trust comes back."

"The police are here."

"We can't trust the police." Samuel's breathing increased like he was trying not to vomit. "We can't trust anyone but us."

The click of the door opening jarred Jamison from her dreamless sleep, and she sat up to see Liam slipping inside her room.

She hadn't heard from him since the morning. "Are you okay?"

He didn't reply, only nodded as he stripped down to his boxers. It was close to sunrise, and even in the dark, she could tell he was ready to collapse. After dealing with the police, he'd gone to Samuel and Evie's place, and from what Jamison heard, things went from bad to worse over there.

"Samuel?"

"Calmer," Liam whispered. "Josie is coordinating with my parents and will be here soon."

"Did Samuel really kick all the guards and police out of his house?"

Crawling into bed, he got under the covers with her. "Yes."

"Holden?"

"They're making him stay overnight, but there's no severe damage." He shifted so they could lie facing each other as the first light of sunrise dared to seep through the blinds. "Have you been able to get any sleep?"

"Every time I close my eyes, I see Pam smiling when she slit her throat." Refusing to have any space between them, she scooted forward. "Tell me you're okay."

Arms.

Legs.

His entire body wrapped around her.

"You know, that was the fourth time I've drawn my gun where I had the full intention of using it," he whispered into her hair. "The first time was in the graveyard."

Another time was when he assisted in a raid on a training house for trafficked children. Boys and girls ranging in age from seven to twelve. Liam had come upon a man and two girls during the room sweeps. He later admitted that if another agent hadn't been near, he would have killed the man outright.

"I couldn't take the shot. Evie wasn't in the clear, and when she was, I fucking hesitated. My brain overanalyzed the whole thing." His eyes squeezed shut. "How would Evie react to hearing a gunshot? Could she handle seeing this woman's brain splattered all over the place? Would it remind her of Laura Jean? Of Livy? Of all the shit she's already lived through?"

"Liam, you can't blam—"

"Yes, I can blame myself. Today could have gone so wrong, so fast."

"But it didn't."

"Only because she took her own life."

When he got in his head like this, it would take forever to get him out. The incident with the raid had sat with him for years. "You wouldn't have let anything happen to Evie."

Tormented. Those endless brown eyes of his gazed at her with absolute torment shining in them. "He called you."

"But, why?" Even after having time to sit and think, she still couldn't figure out Michael's motive for the call. "Why warn us?"

"He sent a text to Samuel," Liam said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Find your wife. Trust no one."

That explained why her brother had appeared so quickly in the hall. "And then Samuel goes home and boots his entire security team."

"I don't know what to think anymore." Inching his head to the side, his eyes connected with a painting of her mother's hanging on the far wall. "But he's listening. Everywhere. All the time."

"What do we do?"

"Ready to wiggle?"

She couldn't believe he was asking her to be bait yet again. But trusting him, she nodded. "How?"

"Tomorrow. We're going to test a theory." He kept his eyes trained on the painting. "And I'm going to get some answers."