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As I pulled the blanket from Noah's bed and used it to push away the jagged shards of glass jutting out from the window frame, I said, “Noah, tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
“What are you going to do? Tell me.”
“Uh-uh … stay hidden until I get to the end o-of the street, c-c-call 911, then run.”
I grabbed his shoulders, guiding him to the window. “And where are you running to?”
“The police.”
“Good. O—”
My words were cut off by a loud crash coming from next door. I turned to look out the other window, knowing Seth would be coming any minute.
“You have to go,” I hurried to say, draping the blanket over the bottom of the window frame. “I'm going to help you out, and you're going to drop down. Ready?”
He could barely nod as the tears began to stream down his face. He threw his arms around my waist, holding on for sweet life.
“I love you,” he cried. “I-I didn't say it before, but I do. I-I love you.”
“I love you too, buddy.” A blinding pain seared through my chest as I took his wrists in my hands, knowing I had to get him away from me while wanting to hold on tighter than I’d held anything before.
“N-no, y-you come too,” he begged, his sobs growing stronger. “G-get Mom. We … w-we can—”
“We don't have time,” I told him gently, prying his arms from around me and stuffing my phone into his hand. “Come on, buddy. Take a deep breath. Yougottado this for me, okay? Go get help.”
I didn't wait for his response as I maneuvered him toward the window, easing him out into the downpour.
My hands were under his arms, ready to let him go when he said quietly, “You'regonnasave Mom, right? You're not going to let him—”
“Nothingis going to happen to your mom,” I whispered, meaning every word. “Now, remember what I said, andgo.”
He dropped to the wet grass and held tight to the wall of the house, crouching in the shadows, and I nodded to myself, knowing he had this. He was going to be okay.
I couldn't spare the time to continue watching him. With the bat in hand, I hurried to the room next door and shook Ray awake before running to the closet.
“Soldier?” she asked, her voice groggy. “What … what are you doing?”
“You have to wake up,” I instructed, digging through the sheets on the top shelf and finding Grampa's gun.
“What? Why? What's wrong? Is it No—”
“Seth's here.”
And as if the psychopath could hear me utter his name, I heard his thunderous footstepsclompingagainst the porch next door.
He was coming.
Ray bolted upright in bed. “What?”
“Seth is here,” I repeated, checking the barrel to find the chamber loaded.
Thanks, Grampa.
“Oh my God, Noah!” Her voice was shrill, and I urged her to be quiet.
“Keep your voice down,” I ordered, whispering as I hurried to her side. “Noah is fine. I got him out. He's going to be okay.”
