Huxley —

As I sat in the hospital with Allison and her newborn daughter, the weight of my 1911 hung from my holster at my side.

I never imagined the gun gifted to me by my Grandpa Weston would be stolen off me, or used to shoot the parents of the child sleeping in my arms. Her mother had survived, but her father hadn’t.

For weeks, I believed I was the sole reason for Devon’s death. Turns out my presence on the street that night was an unexpected variable.

But now, we had the evidence we needed to go after those threatening Allison and her child.

And my brothers and I would go to any lengths to make sure our girls were safe.