AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Frida,” I whimpered.
Then I heard it.
The frantic tip-tap of her feet as she flew down the hallway, leaping over my body on the floor, and rushing into the bathroom.
I could always count on her hiding in my bathtub when anything super scary was happening. Like thunder. Or Fourth of July fireworks.
I really needed to be joining her.
That was probably the safest place for someone when gunshots are going off, right? I was pretty sure I remembered reading a book once where it said mothers who were raising families in neighborhoods known for rival gang violence would put their babies to sleep in the bathtubs for protection.
I didn’t turn and make my way in that direction, didn’t climb in and cuddle her shaking body.
It was silent now.
And through the adrenaline that made my organs feel like they were vibrating, I could really only think of one thing.
Those were gunshots meant for someone on this floor. These people weren’t my friends, no. But I knew what music they liked, because the sound could carry through the walls. I knew what they made for dinner, because the scents could fill the hallway.
I knew that the couple at the end of the hall had a baby because I heard its shrill cries in the early hours of the morning.
A baby.
And, of course, there was Kylo.
Not a friend.
But, honestly, the closest thing in the world I had to one.
The guy with shady men in and out of his apartment all the time.
He could be shot.
Hurt.
Bleeding out.
Dying.
While I hid in the bathtub like a coward.
To be fair, I would never call myself a brave person. I knew who I was. And that was an anxious mess with horrible social skills, an unhealthy attachment to my dog, and the belief that by reading novels, I was actually getting to experience the life I could never live. Because of my aforementioned anxiety and social issues.
And, you know, it didn’t help that I was also not a fae, vampire, surprise princess, or trained assassin.
But I damn sure wasn’t anybody’s hero.
I’d once watched a guy grab a woman’s purse and run off with it.
I hadn’t chased him.
Even as the woman did so herself.
I was a chickenshit, if I were being honest.
I liked my life as safe as I could possibly make it.
Crawling through my apartment on my belly, making my way toward the front door, was decidedly… not safe.
