15
REBECCA
The kick wasn't as bad, but the pain in my already bruised shoulder had me hissing out a breath. My ears rang. Unfortunately, when I shut my eyes, I'd moved the gun and I shot a chunk out of the porch railing.
"Damn," I muttered, remembering my brother swearing as he'd been seasick on the boat across the Atlantic.
Two shots. People should come running from two shots. When I heard Laurel scream in pain, I knew I needed to fire the third shot to signal an emergency. This was an emergency. Having a baby with me as the only helper was a bloody emergency. I lifted the weapon quickly, stepped to the edge of the porch and aimed at the sky and fired. Nothing. The weapon was empty.
"Damn," I muttered again. I put the rifle down on the porch floor and dashed into the kitchen, searchi
