“Where is she? Where is your pregnant wife?”
Cal was about to dive for his gun when he heard the bedroom door crack open and Beatrice’s voice sounded behind him.
“Right here, bitch.”
And all hell broke loose.
Beatrice squeezed the trigger.
At the same time, a contraction squeezed her.
Cal yelled, her shot went wide, and the bitch who’d shot her husband ran.
Fatal Love by Misty Evans