But Harry stepped in front of her, shielding her from the barrel of the gun. With a hard shove, he knocked her to the floor before she had the chance to brace herself. “Leah,” he used his rational tone, stepping over people, looking her directly in the eye. “Don’t do this. Just give me the gun, and we’ll talk.”
Leah screamed her rage, and Mara caught Guido cringing from the corner of her eye, probably in the same way he had when she’d come to his shack. Her howls pierced Mara’s soul. Her mouth was wide open, strings of saliva stretching from the corners, her usually pale face red with fury, and her body tight and tense—ready to react.
Tears streamed down her cheeks in fat droplets, streaking her pretty features. “You were supposed to fall in love with meeee, you dirty man! Me! I loved you, Harry. I loved you so much, but instead you fell for a weak, sniveling entitled brat who has everything she’s ever wanted but a baby! Poor Mara. Boo-hoo-hoo!”
Harry was moving forward now, pacing himself, his arms spread wide in helplessness. “But I didn’t know, Leah,” he said, impassioned and pleading. “You never told me. How could I know if you didn’t tell me? Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I feel the same way, Leah. Let’s talk about it, okay? Just you and me. No one else.”
As Harry moved closer to her, Leah began to back away, her arms trembling. She waved the gun wildly, circling the air with it in frantic gestures. “No, Harry! No, no, no!” she moaned with an agonizing screech. “You’ve soiled yourself with her, you pig! All men are dirty, filthy pigs! Oink, oink, oink!” she squealed, her eyes huge orbs in her head, her face changing from rage-filled to childlike and innocent in a matter of words.
She backed up some more toward the windows, her shoulders sagging. “But I thought you were different,” she sobbed. “You’re smart and goofy, and you weren’t like all the other men. Until her! Then you became just like them, always thinking with your dirty impulses.” Her voice became a harsh whisper, her face one moment ago stricken with anger, now full of sorrow. “We could have been together, Harry. You and me and Mimi and Fletcher. I sent you a message. I told the children. But you’ve ruined everything! You should have known, Harry. You should have been able to tell!”
The kids. Mara froze on the hard floor, her hands stopping the task of trying to unlock the handcuffs with the key from the guard who lay beside her, trembling.
Leah had been the one who’d snatched the children from school. Taken Carl.
The world had gone mad.
Harry froze now, too, but he didn’t stop talking. “Sometimes I just don’t see the signs, Leah. I’m a dolt when it comes to women. Ask anyone. But we’ll get the kids and we’ll all go somewhere together, somewhere far away from Mara and everyone. Okay? Just give me the gun, and we’ll go. Don’t hurt anyone, please. Just come with me.” Harry’s voice was husky as he tried to sound convincing, husky and stilted as he searched for the words to convince Leah to let him help.
“You’re never going anywhere with your children, Harry—never, ever again! I’ve hidden them far, far away where you’ll never find them!” Leah roared, shooting the gun into the air to the screams of the crowd, backing up, kicking at the people on the floor before launching her body into the row of high windows and smashing through them.
Glass soared through the air, pelting everyone in its path just as Mara freed herself from the cuffs. Screams echoed in the drafty room, bouncing off the high ceilings, vibrating in her ears.
She didn’t stop to see anything other than her family members and friends all racing toward the windows right behind Harry.
But she was faster, and even in her panic—in her utter surprise Leah was involved—she knew somehow, some way, Leah had gotten past Arch and to the children. This was no bluff.
Liken it to whatever one did in times like these—the adrenaline a mother experiences when her child’s trapped under a car, and she somehow manages to lift tons of weight to save her baby. Or maybe it was sheer panic that set her feet into motion.
Whatever it was, Mara passed Nina, Marty, Wanda, and Harry like they were all moving in slow motion.
And when she got her hands on the bitch—she was going to kill her.
CHAPTER
19
Mara flew into the thick of the trees behind the courthouse, ignoring the sharp sting of pine needles raking her skin, scratching her bloody, her eyes on Leah’s retreating back.
Leah has the kids.
She didn’t think about the fact that she had a gun. She didn’t think about the fact that she’d die if Leah let loose with that gun.