again. My head banged against Nana’s, light swam in and out of focus, the deafening barrage of bullets adding to the pounding in my head. Nana scurried away from the door and around the edge of the bed. I crawled after her, the hard floor digging into my knees.
The dresser slammed against the bed as the door splintered from its frame. Dozens of bullets smacked into the old plaster walls. Dust showered us. It reeked of mold. I sneezed and pushed Nana towards the window as she tried to do the same thing to me. “Open it and climb out,” I said.
“You first,” she shot back.
“Stop shooting,” a man yelled. Within seconds the only sound was Nana and I panting for breath. They were going to rip us from our hiding spot any second.
“We want this one alive.”
My heart stopped. With clammy hands I clung to Nana and whispered, “Damon?”
Her nod was like a punch to my gut. Damon was out of jail. Damon was in our house. Damon wanted me alive. Cold fury washed over me. I could barely restrain myself from jumping over the bed and clawing at the face of the man who’d pretended to like me so he could find my father.
“Cassie?” Damon called out. “Have you missed me?”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t tell him off and reveal our hiding spot. Slow, calculated footsteps tapped across the floor. Icy terror froze the sweat rolling down my back.
Blue and red lights lit up the room. Shots began again, but this time the men were shooting out our front door where I prayed a whole squad of policemen were coming to take Damon out.
“I won’t leave you, Cassie,” Damon’s voice was almost above my head.
I slowly raised my eyes to meet his cold, blue gaze. He was leaning over the edge of the bed. He smiled and offered his hand as if I would go with him willingly. I jumped to my feet and smashed my fist into his jaw. His head snapped back. He recovered quickly, grabbing my wrist and yanking me towards him. My legs slammed into the side of the bed and kept me from flying into his arms.
Nana stood, hitting at his arm. “Let her go!”
“Damon,” one of his men yelled, “We’ve got to move!”
I wrenched my arm free, backing out of his reach. He stepped forward. One of his men dragged him away. “Later,” the man said.
“I’ll be back,” Damon yelled over his shoulder.
I sank onto the bed.
Nana sat beside me and pulled me into her huge bosom. “Filthy turncoat,” she spat out. “What kind of a dirty judge would release that scum on bail?”
We sat there for a few minutes listening to the gunfight raging, wheels squealing, and sirens blaring. Quiet descended and our favorite police detectives called our names. Relief flowed over me like a warm shower. We were truly safe now. I stood, pulling Nana to her feet, and answered, “Shine, Fine, we’re in here.”
“Why can’t you ever call them the right names?” Nana scolded.
I shrugged, too tired to fight with her or to remember Shine and Fine’s real names.
Detective Shine poked his bald head through the doorway. He wiped some sweat away. “You’re okay.”
“Barely,” Nana said. “How slow are you people?”
Fine leaned around his partner. “Guess this means we aren’t getting fed tonight?”
Nana softened at the sight of him. He was so good-looking most women probably offered him what he wanted. “Maybe a few gingersnaps if you caught that stinking Damon.”
Shine shook his head, light reflecting off the top. “We only caught one of them. Two teams are following the rest, but we assigned ourselves to check on you.” He smiled to soften the blow.
My stomach clenched tighter. Damon escaped. “Is Sham okay?”
“The big black guy?” Shine asked.
More sirens announced an ambulance.
“He’s breathing,” Fine muttered.
Chapter Two
Unfortunately, breathing was about all Sham was doing. Nana and I gave our statements to the police, hurried to the hospital, and then waited and waited. I shifted on the plastic chair.
The dresser slammed against the bed as the door splintered from its frame. Dozens of bullets smacked into the old plaster walls. Dust showered us. It reeked of mold. I sneezed and pushed Nana towards the window as she tried to do the same thing to me. “Open it and climb out,” I said.
“You first,” she shot back.
“Stop shooting,” a man yelled. Within seconds the only sound was Nana and I panting for breath. They were going to rip us from our hiding spot any second.
“We want this one alive.”
My heart stopped. With clammy hands I clung to Nana and whispered, “Damon?”
Her nod was like a punch to my gut. Damon was out of jail. Damon was in our house. Damon wanted me alive. Cold fury washed over me. I could barely restrain myself from jumping over the bed and clawing at the face of the man who’d pretended to like me so he could find my father.
“Cassie?” Damon called out. “Have you missed me?”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t tell him off and reveal our hiding spot. Slow, calculated footsteps tapped across the floor. Icy terror froze the sweat rolling down my back.
Blue and red lights lit up the room. Shots began again, but this time the men were shooting out our front door where I prayed a whole squad of policemen were coming to take Damon out.
“I won’t leave you, Cassie,” Damon’s voice was almost above my head.
I slowly raised my eyes to meet his cold, blue gaze. He was leaning over the edge of the bed. He smiled and offered his hand as if I would go with him willingly. I jumped to my feet and smashed my fist into his jaw. His head snapped back. He recovered quickly, grabbing my wrist and yanking me towards him. My legs slammed into the side of the bed and kept me from flying into his arms.
Nana stood, hitting at his arm. “Let her go!”
“Damon,” one of his men yelled, “We’ve got to move!”
I wrenched my arm free, backing out of his reach. He stepped forward. One of his men dragged him away. “Later,” the man said.
“I’ll be back,” Damon yelled over his shoulder.
I sank onto the bed.
Nana sat beside me and pulled me into her huge bosom. “Filthy turncoat,” she spat out. “What kind of a dirty judge would release that scum on bail?”
We sat there for a few minutes listening to the gunfight raging, wheels squealing, and sirens blaring. Quiet descended and our favorite police detectives called our names. Relief flowed over me like a warm shower. We were truly safe now. I stood, pulling Nana to her feet, and answered, “Shine, Fine, we’re in here.”
“Why can’t you ever call them the right names?” Nana scolded.
I shrugged, too tired to fight with her or to remember Shine and Fine’s real names.
Detective Shine poked his bald head through the doorway. He wiped some sweat away. “You’re okay.”
“Barely,” Nana said. “How slow are you people?”
Fine leaned around his partner. “Guess this means we aren’t getting fed tonight?”
Nana softened at the sight of him. He was so good-looking most women probably offered him what he wanted. “Maybe a few gingersnaps if you caught that stinking Damon.”
Shine shook his head, light reflecting off the top. “We only caught one of them. Two teams are following the rest, but we assigned ourselves to check on you.” He smiled to soften the blow.
My stomach clenched tighter. Damon escaped. “Is Sham okay?”
“The big black guy?” Shine asked.
More sirens announced an ambulance.
“He’s breathing,” Fine muttered.
Chapter Two
Unfortunately, breathing was about all Sham was doing. Nana and I gave our statements to the police, hurried to the hospital, and then waited and waited. I shifted on the plastic chair.
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