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But without knowing when we’ll be back, I can’t leave this food here. It will go bad and stink up my refrigerator. With all the other food that will go bad.
No one sees these silly details in movies.
I put the Glock down on the kitchen island and grab a trash bag. One by one, I dump the whole meal and everything else in the fridge that will go bad in a matter of days.
What a mess.
After tying off the black plastic bag, I walk toward my back door where my trash cans sit on the porch.
My head cluttered with thoughts, I absentmindedly stroll to my kitchen slider when I’m leveled out by all the glass shattering before my eyes. It’s so loud I cover my head. My brain doesn’t process what happened, my ears are ringing so loudly.
Heart pounding, I look up.
A man dressed in all black with gold-rimmed shades walks over the threshold, his feet crunching the shards of glass scattered all over my kitchen floor.
“Lachlan?” I whisper, my brain still not caught up.
No.
This guy’s not tall enough. There’s no scar on his face. And Lachlan is still in the air.
He also wouldn’t smash apart my slider to break into the back of my house.
“Can I… Can I help you?” I play dumb.
His eyes wander across my chest where the assault rifle and the diaper bag swing comically.
My Glock is on the island. Do I just blast this guy with the AR strapped to my chest?
Reaching for it, every cell in my body twitches because as a doctor, it’s so ingrained in me to save lives, not take one out.
Slowly, the guy in black raises his gun at me.
“Where’s Stasia?” Is all he says when a pop pop pop sounds out.
The front of his face explodes, and he falls forward with a heavy thud. His gun skids across my ceramic floor.
Jumping back, I want to be sick. Not from the blood. That I’m used to. But a man’s head got blown off in front of me.
I hear a noise on my porch and look up as the crisp wind from the Sound hits my face from the missing glass. In a haze of smoke, another man stands there pointing a gun with a silencer at me.
“Cormac?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Ana
Why is the EpiPen gone?
I sneak a look at Sophie and keep my cool.
“Sweetie, how about some water? Let’s sit on the floor with J.P.”
Sophie takes the water.
“Remember how I told you to drink it at the party? Small sips in between a few easy breaths. Keep saying to yourself, you’re fine.”
She listens, and I watch her like a hawk. Her lips still twitch, but there’s nothing close to the violent attack she had at the birthday party.
