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I felt shredded inside of myself—like someone had literally gone into my guts with a set of knives and rotated them around for a while—and I didn’t understand why. It was nauseating and suffocating. I didn’t know what to do to make it stop.
“Wow,” Lia sighed. “That was like the fight and the make-up sex all rolled into one.”
I couldn’t find the humor at the moment and pushed away from her without speaking. I jumped out of the bed and crossed the room.
“What’s wrong?” Lia called out.
I glanced over my shoulder to see her sitting in the center of the bed with the sheet pulled up to her chest, and I wondered why chicks did that. I’d just been inside of her, and now she was shielding her tits. What sense did that make?
“I just need a drink of water,” I said as I opened the bedroom door. “You want anything?”
“No, I’m fine.” She looked like she was about to say something else, but I left before she had the chance.
I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Out in the kitchen, I poured myself some water from one of those filtration pitchers. I’d never used one before, but Lia had it with her stuff. The water felt cold on the back of my throat as I drank it down and then quickly poured another one. As I put the glass down, I glanced toward the balcony doors.
There was someone out there.
Instinct took over. I dropped to the ground and rolled backwards to put the kitchen island between me and the glass door. I was completely naked, and the closest gun was in the closet by the door. I could make it, but if whoever was out there was going to shoot, I wouldn’t have much cover.
I decided to make a run for it, crashed into the closet, and knocked over a little decorative table next to the front door in the process. Fighting hard against the panic growing inside of me, I ripped open the closet door and grabbed my Beretta. I hadn’t heard any shots yet, but I still dived back behind the couch as quickly as I could.
I checked the magazine, clicked it into place, and wrapped my hand around the grip. I positioned myself at the edge of the couch and was about to turn and start firing when I heard movement inside.
“Evan?”
“Get back in the bedroom!” I screamed at Lia as she appeared in the doorway.
“Evan! What’s happening?”
I moved back around the couch where I had better cover as well as a better view of the balcony. It was also a little farther from Lia, and I would be able to draw fire away from her. I came around the far side and raised my gun again. From there, I could see the figure on the other side of the glass—a small, thin person with white, sand-covered clothes.
It was the kid.
He just stood there—tears coming out of his eyes—and looked at me.
My hands started shaking. I couldn’t hold the gun straight any longer, but I also wasn’t so sure I was actually pointing it at anyone who was there.
“Not fucking real,” I whispered.
“Evan?”
“Look out at the balcony,” I told her.
Her head turned briefly toward the glass before looking back to me. There was no shock or fear in her eyes, which there certainly would have been if she had seen what I had.
“There’s no one there, is there?”
“No.” Lia looked again, this time tilting her
head to the side for a better angle, but her answer was the same. “There’s no one there.”
I squeezed my eyes shut before I looked again.
There was nothing there.
“Fuck.” I dropped down on my ass and leaned against the side of the couch with my elbows up on my knees and the Beretta dangling there with no purpose.
