A Beautiful Funeral - Page 62/68

“We needed intel,” Travis said, still processing the news. He looked at Val. “Did she go quickly?”

“Blunt force trauma and a gunshot wound to the head,” Val said. She peeked at Abby and then continued, addressing only me. “We have reason to believe it was Chiara.”

“Chiara is Mrs. Carlisi’s bodyguard, right? Gi … Giada’s?” Abby asked. “Why would you send her to the Carlisis, Travis?”

Travis’s expression sagged. “It was her new assignment.”

“You married her off to that monster?” Abby cried.

Travis looked at me, desperate. I nodded, and he spoke. “Her assignment was to gain the attention of Angelo Carlisi and to infiltrate the family. That’s how we knew we would be safe once Thomas got home. She’s been keeping tabs on them.”

Abby’s mouth hung open. “Lena was his new wife? Are you insane? He’s an animal!”

“Was an animal,” I said. “He’s dead.”

Abby jerked away from Travis, and he reached for her, but she pulled away again. Travis sighed. “She was his type, Abby. She spoke the language. She was the one.”

“Well, now she’s dead,” Abby groaned. She looked down and away, unable to look Travis in the eyes.

“Did you not hear me?” Val snapped. “Giada and Chiara have been spotted in Eakins. Everyone needs to get inside.”

I nodded. “Let’s go. Everyone in—”

Dad narrowed his eyes, looking at the road, and then he lunged for me. “Everyone down!”

A slew of bullets pelted the front of the house, the vehicles, shattering the windows. Wren was already outside, aiming his handgun at the black Lincoln passing by. Hyde stood next to him, emptying her semi-automatic pistol’s magazine before kneeling down to reload.

I scanned the yard, seeing my family on the ground. “Everyone all right?” I yelled. I looked at Dad, and he nodded. I patted him on the shoulder. “Once a cop …”

“Always a cop,” Dad grunted, pushing himself up off the ground.

Stella began to wail, and Liis shrieked. “Olive?” Liis peeled our daughter from the pocket Olive had made between her body and the ground.

Falyn screamed, and rushed over, falling to her knees and grabbing at Olive’s limp body. “Olive?”

One side of Stella’s face and body was drenched from the crimson pool she’d been lying in on the ground. I reached down to touch Olive’s neck to feel a weak pulse, growing more faint with every passing second. I held my wife and daughter close, glancing back at Val and Wren, who were on alert.

“Ew?” Trenton said, crawling over.

“Is Stella okay?” Olive whispered.

“Of course, she’s okay, baby, you saved her,” Trenton said. “That’s what Maddoxes do.”

Olive managed a small smile and then her face relaxed as if she fell asleep.

Falyn shook her. “Olive?” she cried.

Trenton sat back on his knees, touching his palm to his forehead. He looked up at me, and when I shook my head, he fell forward, holding Olive’s ankles. “Oh, God, no. Please no. Please no!”

Camille sat next to Trenton, tears streaming down her face. She touched his back, not knowing what else to do.

“Someone call a fucking ambulance!” Falyn screamed. “Why are you just standing there? Do something!”

“She’s gone,” Liis said, sniffing.

Taylor sat behind Falyn, holding his wife while she rocked Olive and brushed back her daughter’s stained hair. She let out a combination of a groan, growl, and scream, a sound of utter rage and devastation, one I was sure only a mother who had lost a child could make.

Ellie covered her mouth and then ran inside. Tyler followed her.

I gestured to Val. “Check on the kids.”

Val nodded and jumped over the stairs to the porch, yanked open the door, and ran inside.

“Everyone inside!” Wren called. “They’re coming back!”

Liis ran in with Stella, bringing Abby with her.

“Travis!” Abby called, but he stood next to me, pulling out his sidearm and getting in position.

“No!” Falyn wailed when Taylor tried to pull her away. “No!” Taylor struggled to pick up his wife and Olive’s lifeless body, attempting to carry them both inside.

“Leave her,” I commanded.

“Fuck you!” Falyn spat.

“I’ll stay,” Trenton said, looking down at his best friend.

Camille nodded, holding Trenton’s hand and then Olive’s, closing her eyes, pressing fresh tears down her face.

Taylor finally pulled Falyn away, wrestling her inside as she kicked and flailed, reaching for her daughter.

The Lincoln raced toward us. Chiara sat in the passenger seat, aiming a semi-automatic rifle. Vittoria, now a Carlisi widow, was behind the wheel. As the car came closer, I reached for my sidearm, but it was gone. Dad stepped out in front of me, holding up my gun and aiming it at the Lincoln.

“Dad, get down!” I yelled just as Chiara squeezed the trigger.

Bullets sprayed the yard and house again, but Dad continued to walk forward, shooting at the Lincoln once, twice, and a third time. One of his bullets hit the tire, and the Lincoln swerved, hit the drainage ditch, and cartwheeled into a boat and truck in the neighbor’s yard across the street. The engine caught fire, and we stood, watching it burn.

Dad fell to his knees, and Travis and I yelled his name at the same time. As the fire burned in the background, we helped our Dad to the ground. I pressed my hands against the red circles growing larger than my palms and spreading across his shirt. He’d been hit twice in the chest, once in the abdomen.

My gaze met Travis’s. He looked as panicked as I felt.

The rest of the family filtered outside, spread out and watching the chaos in disbelief. Trenton crawled over to Dad, and I realized he’d been shot in the calf. Falyn fell on her knees beside Olive, cradling her once again in her arms, her cries piercing the air as she suffered unbearable pain. Camille sobbed next to Trenton, Travis, and I. The twins came outside and rushed over.

Val was on the radio reporting the scene and requesting ambulances and the fire department. Hyde ran to the Lincoln, but the heat forced her back. She ran into the neighbor’s home to see if anyone had been hurt and soon came outside waving both arms, signaling the house was clear.