Chapter 21
Callie
My skin prickledat the sound of Addison’s cries. They tore through my heart and turned my scalp icy cold. There would be no good reason a child would scream like that unless something horrible happened—it wasn’t one of her regular tantrums—these wails were laced with some deep, primal fear. Something or someone was hurtingher.
I rushed across the street to find Dylan’s front door open. He wasn't a careless man in that regard; something was definitely wrong, he was the sort of protective man who would double check to make sure he locked all the doors before settling in for thenight.
I pressed myself up against the cold brick façade of the house, listening. What if Dylan didn’t need me? What if this was me being a paranoid cop? Cynical anduntrusting.
There was a low rumble of voices, and Addison was shouting out again, sobbing for her mother. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. My ears throbbed with the beating of my heart as I tried to calm myself.Sheri was inside, wasn’t she?A thin wall separated us, the family I'd never have and me.Maybe I should justleave.
But the yells coming out of Addison’s mouth didn’t sound happy. Whether Sheri was there or not, I needed to see if Addison wasokay.
I leaned forward and peeked into the front window. Nothing looked wrong at first, not until I noticed a dark shape hunkering down just under the windowsill, on the other side of the wall from where I stood. I pushed myself up onto the balls of my feet to get a better view. Whatever it was moaned, muted by the layer of the brick wall separating us, yet I still couldn’t make out what or who wasthere.
A dark shadow dashed through the next room, just through the opening of the living room, and Addison was screaming again for her mother. I followed Addison’s voice with my eyes and saw her small shape hiding, balled up behind Ben’s playpen in the corner. The dark shadow hurried past the open doorway again quickly, followed by another biggershadow.
There were other people in thehouse?
I ran to the next window, closer to where I could see Addison, and got a better view of the north wall of the house. That’s when I saw Dylan, slumped up against the wall under the front window, where I had been standing on the outside of the house. His clothes were dotted with stains of red.Was hebleeding?
I didn’t spot Ben anywhere inside.Where’s Ben? Was Dylan hurt badly? Was Addison?I needed to rein in my fear. I needed a clearhead.
I pulled out my phone and called it in, staying on the line with dispatch. She told me not to engage or enter the residence, but by the time I gave her my identification and location, I was already shimmying through the front door, breachingHell.
If anyone hurt those kids, God forgive me, I’d shoot first and ask questionslater.
“Check in the fucking kid’s room! The kid’s room!” a female voice said quickly. "Christ, it's got to be here somewhere!" Cabinets opened and closed. I heard the woman banging them shut and opening others. Pots and pans clanged to the floor in loud bursts. “Fucking shit! It’s here somewhere. I know. I know it is. A goddamn lot of it. In a can. A fucking coffeecan.”
It was the first time I ever heard Sheri’s voice. I was taken aback by her rushed angry tone and the aggressive words. I tiptoed toward her demands and watched as she zipped and twitched around the room. Exaggerating her movements, she opened the microwave, slammed it closed, and pushed randombuttons.
“Here’s an ATM! I'll just warm some up. It'll take two minutes, and it'll be done." She smacked her palms along the counter. “I pressed two hundred dollars. But I think we needmore!”
Did she think the microwave was anATM?
My God, Sheri washigh.
“Where’s the money? Where’s the fucking money!” a man’s voice roared in the room next tome.
Addison sobbed in response, “Daddy!Daaaaaddy!Mooooooommmy!”
My vision blurred with rage. I knew I was too emotional to be there by myself, but listening to Addison cry for her mother, I felt a force so strong, so intensely in my chest connected with her, I stepped into the living room, engaging my weapon;eyes, muzzle,threat.
“Step away from her!” I shouted, aiming my firearm for a kill shot. In some far off part of my brain, alarm bells rang out, warning me how dangerously close I was to snapping and losing allcontrol.
Addison had barricaded herself behind Ben’s playpen; her face was bright red and streaked with tears. The man, whoever he was, stood in the middle of the living room, blocking my way to Addison. He was leaning heavily to the left, and blood dripped from his fingertips, spreading a stain of crimson around his feet. Dylan looked unconscious across from him.He was just unconscious, right? My fingers itched to feel his pulse.My eyes welled with tears, and I fought them hard. I couldn't tell from where I was standing if he was breathing. A wave of nausea crashed through my stomach, leaving mebreathless.
“Dylan,” I gasped out, only to have my voice end in asob.
Another swell of queasiness rolled deep in my gut. The thought of Dylan hurt was making me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t take in enough air—terror paralyzed me—something happening to Dylan…it would kill me. Dylan dying would destroy me. I felt my heart wrenching down, sinking fast into my churningintestines.
I needed to touch him. Feel for a heartbeat. There was so much blood. Was it his? And where was Ben? I couldn’t thinkstraight.
I couldn't take my eyes off my target, but I needed to see if Dylan was okay. I couldn't breathe right not knowing, seeing him lifeless on the floor of his own house. I took a slow sidestep toward his body, my firearm still aimed at the intruder’s forehead and without taking my eyes off my objective. I reached out and felt Dylan’s neck for apulse.
Warmth flooded mychest.
My kneestingled.
