AllFreeNovel
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I rummage in my purse, pretending like I’m looking for something. I huff out an irritated breath, like I can’t find what I’m looking for. I’m aware of every shift of gravel, of every movement in the shadows, of everything. The hair on my arms stands on end at the threat lingering around me.
I turn back to the door and, with shaky hands, try to push the key back into the lock. My hands tremble too badly to get it on the first few tries, but as I hear someone clear their throat, it finally slides in. Closer and closer I hear them come, their boots crunching, their presence mocking.
They’re not in a hurry. They know they can overpower me, attack me, rape me, kill me. Why would they try to hurry?
I wrench the door open and haul ass inside. Slamming the door, I flip the lock and press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart thunder beneath it. A part of me doesn’t feel any safer inside the bar than I did outside. But at least there’s a door separating me from them now.
The door knob jiggles, and a scream lodges in my throat, choking me. I clamp my hand over my mouth, forcing myself to keep quiet. My breathing is harsh, my eyes wide.
Sweat trickles down my back, across my forehead, as my mind races. Did I lock both entrances? I always do, but I’m second guessing myself.
Turning on my heel, I run down the hall and across the floor to the front door. I nearly sob when I see the two deadbolts locked. Then actually start sobbing when that doorknob turns.
“Fuck,” I whimper. Tears and sweat sting my eyes.
I can’t cry.
Not right now.
Not yet.
Think.
I need to think.
There’s a shotgun behind the bar. I’ve never shot a fucking gun in my life, though. I have no idea how to use it, but it’s the only thing I have. And a shotgun will scare someone a lot more than a fucking baseball bat.
Sprinting across the room, I stumble and fall behind the bar, scrambling to rip the gun off the mount on the underside of the wood. The door shakes again, voices growing louder, as it finally comes free. I sink onto the floor and hold the gun on my lap as I press my back against the wall.
I need to get out of here.
I can’t sit and wait for them to get inside.
But I can’t make myself move. I can’t feel my fingers, or my toes. I’m barely able to fucking breathe. My hands fumble at my pocket until I manage to slide my phone free.
I call the only person I can think of, the only person I want right now. The only person I know will save me.
Pressing the phone to my ear, I wait as it rings.
And rings.
And rings.
Another sob tries to work its way up my throat, but I force myself to swallow it.
Then I hear his voice, and the tears finally overflow from my eyes.
“Calling to grovel?” He sounds like his usual arrogant self and in other circumstances, I probably would’ve told him to fuck off. But right now, his voice only makes me cry harder.
“Ez,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. There’s a beat of silence as the tension fills the dead air between us.
“What?” His voice is a low growl. “What’s going on?”
“I’m at the bar,” I try to say but I’m nearly hyperventilating. Is this what a panic attack is? Koda has them all the time, and I’ve never known how to help her. “People are trying to get in.”
“I’m on my way.”
Just like that. No other questions, no reassurances. Nothing.
