Page 38 of Swift's Game


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Another person had theirs out too, talking fast, panicked.

I pulled my own phone from my pocket and called Twister.He answered on the first ring.“You calling me right after we hear gunshots is not good,” he growled.

“Yeah,” I said, scanning the street, my chest still heaving from the dive.“That’s because someone just tried to kill me.I’m in front of Britta’s apartment.”

There was a beat.“You all good?”Twister asked.

“Yeah.”No blood.No hit.Just adrenaline and a pounding skull.

“Good,” he said immediately.“We’re on the way.”

He hung up before I could say anything else.

I started to shove my phone back into my pocket when it rang again.

Unknown number.

For half a second, I almost ignored it, but then I answered.

“Are you okay?!”Britta cried.Panic tore through every syllable.

I looked up at the building to the third floor.

I knew which window was hers, and there she was, phone pressed to her ear, looking down at the street.Even from here, I could see the tension in her body.

“Yeah,” I said, pitching my voice calmer than I felt.“You’re still the only one who’s been shot, sugar.”

“Someone tried to kill you, Swift.”

“Yeah,” I drawled.“I was there.”

It got a breathless, angry sound out of her that almost felt like relief.“I’m coming down,” she said.

“No.”It came out sharp enough that the woman nearest me flinched.I dropped my voice.“Stay in the apartment with Tyson.Do not come down here.”

“But—”

“Just listen to me, Britta,” I cut in.“It’s not safe for you outside the apartment.”

She went quiet.The kind of quiet that meant she was arguing with me in her head and hated that I was right.

Then she sighed, but she didn’t fight me.

Good.

“The club’s headed my way,” I said.“And the cops are coming.”

As if to prove the point, sirens started wailing in the distance, getting louder by the second.

Closer.

“Be careful, Swift,” she said softly.

“Always, sugar.”I ended the call and shoved the phone in my pocket.

This was not how I had expected the day to go, but I was coming to find that ever since we moved to Madison, nothing went to plan.

Chapter Nine