Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
My attacker, unable to reach me, paused, panicked, then reached for the shelf, dragged it back off of me, but catching my foot in the process, making a searing pain course through my ankle.
I sucked in a breath, the air burning my lungs, as I freed my foot from the shelf just before it stood back on its legs.
I needed to peel myself off the other unit, had to get up on my feet, fight, flee. Something. Anything.
But just trying to stand had me falling back with a groan as more copper taste filled my mouth.
My attacker started to come down the aisle, a wicked glint in his eye.
But it was just then that a police siren screamed down the street, slowing, then stopping.
I watched with a detached sort of delight as his eyes went round, likely worrying that I had some kind of panic button I might have hit, or that he’d been seen.
He didn’t stop to debate his options.
He turned and ran back through the front of the store.
Alone, I half pushed, half fell off the shelf and onto my knees on the hard floor. I let myself have a few short moments to breathe, to try to think past the pain.
Eventually, I pulled myself off the floor and inched my way toward the front of the store, half dragging my aching foot behind me.
I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking right then. My mind was syrup.
I was moving on instinct, grabbing my purse, my gun, and Tuna, then moving out of the shop.
I’m reasonably sure I locked the door, but I had no memory of pulling the gate as I inched my way down the block, through the alley, up the stairs, and into my apartment.
Only behind that locked door, then the one to my bathroom, did I collapse, cradling the gun to my chest, and let myself process the fear and pain.
Outside the door, Tuna whined.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Christopher
“Where are you heading?” I asked Liam as he shoved his feet into a pair of designer shoes I absolutely hadn’t bought him. Between the designer shoes, the chain he had on, and a watch that wasn’t as expensive as mine, but I had no doubt he’d be upgrading eventually, I was starting to think I had to get the kid a switchblade.
“Just for a walk.”
“Not work?”
“Not unless something comes up.”
“Would you mind maybe taking your sister with you? Just for an hour?”
“Gotta work?”
No.
Not at all.
But I was going for the bag a day early to see if I could get this whole using a third-party shit to stop.
And I was going to go ahead and not wonder why it mattered so much to me to be the one to pick up the money.
“Just a quick one.”
“Alright. I’ll take her to the museum. She can’t get enough of that place.”
“Thanks, kid. Here,” I said, handing him some cash. “She’s gonna want shit from the gift shop.” She already had five stuffed animals on her bed. And that wasn’t counting the gemstones, books, and a collection of little butterflies that she’d attached to a wall like a swarm.
“Nah, I got it.”
“Wow. That feels weird,” I said, shaking my head.
“What?”
“You’re not supposed to pull an ‘I got it’ until you’re in your twenties. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be a mooch until then.”
“I got my own.”
“Christ. Stop growing up,” I grumbled. “Hey, honey,” I said as Charlotte came out of her room. “Your brother is going to take you to the museum. Then we can figure out something for dinner.”
Charlotte was thrilled.
Liam tried to hide how he liked her enthusiasm.
And I grabbed my keys and headed out.
I’d like to claim I had a tingle up my spine or a churning in my stomach. But I felt something more akin to anticipation, maybe even excitement as I looked at the front windows of the pawn shop.
Only to find the lights off and the door locked.
The alarms didn’t go off right away. She was a one-woman operation. If she needed to run an errand or just get out of the store for a few minutes, she had to close it up.
I was about to walk away when the light shone just right into the front door, and I saw something in the back that had me stiffening.
There was crap all over the floor.
Changing my angle, I noticed an overturned shelving unit.
Then, with a sinking sensation in my stomach, a few drops on the floor leading to the door that looked dangerously close to dried blood.
“Alara!”
My hand went to the door, shaking it uselessly.
“Alara!” I pounded on the frame.
It took an embarrassingly long time to remember that as soon as I was back on the job, I’d started carrying the tools of the trade: a knife, gun, and a lock pick set.
I was rusty as hell, and it took me three tries before I got it open. But then my hand was on my gun as I rushed into the store, glancing behind the desk but seeing no one.