“How can you be so fucking calm? We almost got blown up!” Aghast, Marshal practically screamed, and I winced at the high pitch, assaulting my ears. “Fuck, Fred!”
“I worked for a comic book place, dude— those fans are really passionate and get really angry. We got threats and stuff all the time. It wasn’t that bad a blast— good thing she put it on the sofa.” Fred’s calm voice floated in and out of the ringing in my ears, and I shivered as Natasha cupped the back of my head. “Furniture saved Hitler’s life, you know.”
“Valerie . . . ” Whimpering at the touch on my shoulder, I tightened my grip on my sister, and she on me. “It’s okay. It’s alright. You need to stand up, okay.”
“N-no . . . I’m not moving.” The crackling of wood splintering ripped through my apartment, and the floor trembled from heavy, stomping feet.
“Get the fuck out of the way.” My dazed mind couldn’t register the voice, and I tensed when powerful arms wrapped around both my sister and I and effortlessly hauled us off the floor. Two fingers gripped my hip, and I cracked my eyes open to find Theo’s dark, pissed off expression just inches from my face.
Natasha hiccupped against my cheek, and I managed a strained inhale as my lungs screamed for oxygen. Blinking hard, I didn’t even wonder how hard it must've been to carry our combined weight down three flights of stairs, but that was all the time it took to breach the emergency exit. One blink and I was outside, with the sun on my face and sirens ringing in my ears.
“Valerie!” My throat closed, and Theo dumped my sister and I on the trunk of a car before Carlyle entered my field of vision. Warm, dry hands cupped my face, and my being glued to Natasha didn’t stop him from caressing my cheeks with his thumbs.
“She’s in shock. They’ll be fine. How the Hell did they go from one phone call to a fucking package bomb, Carlyle?” My eyes widened, flying to Natasha, and I pulled back as much as my weak muscles allowed.
“You! You lied about not getting any calls or anything! Why . . . why would you lie about that, Nat!” Blown pupils met mine, and Natasha frowned and licked her lips at my shrill, unstable accusations.
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t get a single call or message or anything since you broke your phone. Wasn’t the package addressed to you, Val?” Was it? I couldn’t remember right now, my brain too frazzled and in disarray. Turning to Carlyle just as a fire truck screeched to a stop behind him, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He smiled tightly, but his eyes blazed withfury, and my lids shuttered as I rested my cheek over Natasha’s heart.
