Free The Red Roots by Andrea Johnson Beck

Jules and Henry, but something frenetic stirred inside of her. She also felt similar things when she travelled, her suspicions at high alert. Ellis assured Isla that their identities remained concealed as they boarded a private jet from Colorado.
    Still, she worried. Too many snakes slithered through Amaranthine, through the families. A snake would always be a snake no matter how many times it shed its skin.
    They entered the foyer. Armed guards stood stiff at the front double doors. Isla stopped beneath the crystal chandelier. Mounted on the wall, near the door was a small screen giving view of the coquina driveway. Erik glanced at his watch.
    “How long?” Isla said.
    “ETA four minutes.”
    Isla looked to Reed. He, too, appeared nervous, but gave her a slight smile.
    Most never see the snake slithering in the grass or hiding beneath a rock. When the venomous fangs sink into exposed skin, it’s too late.
    “Soon you’ll be with your daughter.”
    “I never thought this day would come.”
    “Three minutes” Erik said.
    The affected area swells and changes color as the toxins seep into the tissues. The important thing is to stay calm and call for help.
    “Where’s my father?”
    “I’m sure he’ll be down.”
    “Two minutes.”
    Venom causes destruction of the red blood cells and blood vessels; to be specific, hemotoxin. Remain calm. Advise medical personnel of any symptoms, such as, shortness of breath, vomiting, or paralysis.
    “You look sick.”
    “Anxious.”
    “One minute.”
    It is helpful to identify the venomous snake. The doctor will decide on an exact course of action.
    The SUV arrived, slowed and stopped in front of the security camera. Isla’s rigid circulatory system burned. Cries tipped the edge. She walked closer to the screen.
    Winded, Rosa entered the foyer. “Ellis is dead. He is shot dead!”
    “Martin.” Reed said through gritted teeth.
    At the same time, Isla spoke, “Zargotta.”
    Snakes identified.

CHAOS ERUPTED.
    Either one meant death. The perfect plot would be to execute a public feud but in private be allies. Martin turned on his family. He was a coward. He knew when to shed his skin and slither away. Vinny was violent, didn’t have a conscience. If he banned together with Martin, they’d take over Amaranthine and eventually each of the sister companies.
    Screaming, Isla flung open the door ignoring the others protest. Daylight blinded her, but she stepped out into the threat. “Jules.” She called out with trembled lips. The back passenger door opened, long wisps of hair blew in front of her daughter’s face. She held a red backpack close to her chest. “Jules, come to me now.”
    Jules’ black Converse shoes hit the driveway. Isla shook off whomever was pulling her back. She had to get to Jules. Protecting her daughter was all she focused on. Isla’s arms outstretched, and she motioned for Jules to hurry.
    “Mom, what’s happening?”
    “Come quickly, darling.”
    Isla grabbed the sleeve of Jules’s sweatshirt, pulling her close. She wrapped her arms around Jules and stared at the SUV.
    “Where’s Henry?”
    “In the front seat.”
    Isla’s vision darted to the blackout windows. Not him. Please, not Henry. Reed pulled them back toward the door as the armed guards stepped in front. All was silent; nothing moved but the salty wind pirouetting from the ocean, teasing the fronds. Jules’s face was tucked into the crook of Isla’s neck.
    “Listen.” Erik held up his hands. “Shut up and listen.”
    Isla looked to the sky.
    Whup.
    Whup.
    Whup.
    Growing louder, blades slicing through the air. A loud bang mixed with the helicopter noise.
    Erik looked back at Isla. “Get inside.”
    The passenger door opened, and Henry’s body fell out, he faced away from them.
    Isla paled. Henry didn’t move. He didn’t take a breath. He was dead. Henry was dead and Isla was to blame. She squeezed Jules tight, making sure her daughter didn’t see Henry’s body lying