Don’t second-guess yourself.
I stood up among the people crouching and trying to hide. “Duncan! Stop it!” I could see him waving a gun around frantically before pausing at the sound of my voice.
“Sebastian?”
“I said I was coming, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t come with me!” he shouted. “You—you’re a whore! You’re a slut! You betrayed me!”
“Duncan, I don’t know what you thought was going on between the two of us, but—”
“Shut up!” he screamed, waving the gun again. “I knew you wouldn’t steal my book! I knew you were better than all those other greedy pigs! I apologized! I brought you fucking roses!”
I hoped to God someone was recording this on a phone.
“But you’re worse than all the others! You and that cop! Did you laugh about me while you fucked him?”
“Duncan—”
“Did you!” he screamed again.
“Let’s talk about this outside,” I said calmly, despite my heart racing so hard that I felt sick. “Let’s get away from these people.”
“No! You’ll call the police and blame it all on me! They’ll believe you because of your pig boyfriend!”
“How about I leave my phone here?” I slowly reached into my pocket to take my cell out and set it on the nearest table. “See? Come outside with me.”
Then I heard the shop door open behind me, and Duncan screamed before firing another round. It missed me, but I swear to God I felt the breeze of the bullet as it whizzed by and hit the door, shattering the glass window. Among the sudden chaos and renewed screams of terrified patrons, I grabbed the hefty metal tray the Christmas cookies were sitting on and slammed it down onto the glass displayTamerlanesat inside.
I reached inside through the shards, cutting myself as I grabbed the book and tucked it into my coat.
“No!” Duncan cried, and I could hear him running toward me.
I dodged the closest people as I made for the door.
Don’t stop, I told myself.Just run.Get him away from Max. Away from Beth. Away from everyone.
I had just opened the shop door, barely stepped into the freezing night, when a hand grabbed mine. I startled but didn’t break free.
I knew that hand.
“Run,” Calvin said sternly. He took off into the dark, hand tight around mine, never letting go.
I slipped and skidded on the frozen sidewalk, but Calvin’s footing never wavered. He held on, keeping me on my feet as we ran down the block and crossed the street. The air froze my lungs as we ran, the wind burning my face with its freezing temperature.
But we kept running.
Calvin’s coat billowed open around him, like dark wings that would lift us off the ground and bring us to safety. The wind tore down the street, and Calvin’s scarf was tugged free from his neck.
Everything happened so quickly, it seemed to actually slow down. The minute details I remember seem almost silly now. The strange glow of freshly falling snow in the streetlamps. The echoing pound of our steps, as if the city were completely empty, save for the two of us. The strides Calvin took, too powerful for me to keep up, and he had to yank me forward.
A gun fired behind us, and Calvin skidded to a stop. He spun around, pulling me to stand behind him as if he were a shield, while reaching into his coat to pull his pistol free. Calvin raised his gun, not even managing to take aim at the figure standing in the middle of the street between the blocks before another crack echoed into the frozen night.
And then Calvin fell.
He crashed backward onto the pavement, gun sliding free from his hand. He was staring up at the clouded sky as if in surprise. And then pain.
He took a breath that sounded so scary.
