He followed me.“All you had to do was keep your fuckingmouth shut.That was all.Now Mickey is dead and the son-of-a-bitch Vakhrov isgunning for me, all because you couldn’t keep your cunt mouth shut.”
My vision blurred a little as I tried to remember who Mickeywas.It took a moment for my brain to process the fact that Mickey must be theother man I’d seen him with.“I… I didn’t identify hi—”
“Shut up!Shut the fuck up!”He shouted, his fingertwitching over the trigger of the gun he held.“You’re going to tell me youdidn’t say shit?Because Mickey is dead and the Goddamn police raided mymomma’s house yesterday.”
I scooted back against the wall, my heart pounding so fast Ithought I’d be sick.This was so bad, so freaking bad I could barely processwhat was happening.The only thing I knew was that I was staring death in theeyes.
His lip curled, just like it had right before he’d shot thatman.“Stupid bitch.Lift your hands.”
Swallowing hard, I raised my shaking hands as my thoughtsraced.I had no idea how to get out of this.Could I reason with him?
His dark eyes held a certain glassy sheen to them and hispupils were way too dilated as he jerked the gun at me.“Stand up.”When Ididn’t move, he screamed, “Stand the fuck up!”
Okay.I was standing.
Slowly, I pushed to my feet, losing the other flip-flop inthe process.“We can work this—”
“Shut.Up.”He stepped forward.“What part of that do younot understand?There’s nothing—”
The muted sound of sirens silenced him.Hope exploded in mystomach.Had someone—one of my neighbors—heard my scream and his yelling?
I really needed to thank my neighbors.Bake them a cake orsomething.If I actually lived through this.
He heard the sirens, and in seconds, the whirling noise grewcloser and louder.“Shit.Fuck.Damn.”
My wide gaze darted across the room, searching for some kindof weapon.Unless I could grab a lamp before he shot me, I was screwed, but Ihad to try something.Through the front window, I could see flashing red andblue lights beyond the curtains.The cops were here and I seriously doubtedthis guy planned on walking out of here alive or letting me go.
Sudden shouts from the front of the house erupted, andhorror settled in as I recognized one of the voices.No.No.No.
A loud knock on the door caused me to jump, sending a waveof dizziness through me.“Abby?You in there?”a voice boomed through theclosed door.“It’s Colton.Open the door.”
Before I could open my mouth, the guy lurched forward,slamming into me.The back of my head knocked off the wall.His hand clampeddown on my mouth as he got right up in my face.
“Abby!”Colton shouted, and the front door rattled as he orsomething slammed into it.
The man’s breath stunk of stale cigarettes and booze as hepressed against me.“Fucking cops, motherfucking cops,” he grunted, pressingthe muzzle of the gun against the side of my head.“You say one word, I willblow your fucking brains out right now.”
Right now, I thought dumbly.Versus later?A hystericalgiggle climbed up my throat.The banging at the front door didn’t stop, but Ino longer heard Colton.How was he here?If the police were called there was noway he would’ve found out that quickly.It didn’t make sense, but at thismoment, it didn’t matter.
If Colton somehow got through that door, I knew this manwould shoot him.My stomach hollowed in fear.
“We’re going to go out your back door, okay?”he said.“Andyou’re going to make sure I get the hell out of here.You get me?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I nodded.He was going to use me assome kind of shield, and I knew the moment he got outside, he was going toshoot me.It was either in here or out there, where he’d have a chance to shootsomeone else—a neighbor, one of the cops, or Colton.
I couldn’t let that happen.
No way.
I might have the self-esteem of a sloth, but I wasn’t acoward.No.I survived my parents’ death.I survived New York City.I survivedmy husband’s death.Isurvived.
I wasnota coward.
He grabbed ahold of my shoulder and pulled me away from thewall.With one well-place shove in the center of my back, he guided me throughthe living room.Someone was yelling at the front door again, but it wasn’tColton.
“Keep quiet,” he urged, and when I didn’t move quickly, heshoved me again.
I stumbled into the small dining room table.The impactknocked over the heavy ceramic vase, spilling plastic flowers across thesurface.The vase rolled toward me.
