Page 111 of Where We Promise

“I punished him with sex…twice now.”

Laura waggled her brows. “Kinky.”

“Not like that…we just, it sort of just happened.”

Callie slapped my leg. “Oh my gosh! Wait, you’re not six-weeks postpartum yet.”

“Are you keeping track?”

She waved me off, pulling out her phone. “Sort of, you’re…six weeks tomorrow…so you had sex anyway, is that allowed?”

We all laughed, and Laura rubbed Callie’s belly.

“You’re such a little freak, Callie.”

She swatted her friend’s leg. “I just like to know what to expect.”

Natty’s phone suddenly rang, and when she answered, we heard someone screaming from the other line.

“I can’t underst—” Her brows pulled in tight as her eyes searched the air. “Silas, what?”

The floor began to shake, then a shudder was followed by a massive boom from outside. Natty dropped her phone as she fell to the side, and I pulled my arms over my head. Plates fell and crashed to Natty’s kitchen floor, glasses went next, and dust began falling from the ceiling.

There was another boom from a different direction, closer to where Laura’s apartment sat. Laura pulled Callie’s hand, helping her get on the floor, and then they crawled under Natty’s coffee table, but I had gotten to my feet and began running toward the door with Natty on my heels.

“Pen, wait!” Natty screamed, but I had to get to Connor.

The hall shuddered and shook as another boom sounded from outside. The explosion had the pictures falling from the walls, and dust from the beams shifting, filling the air. I jumped over a piece of ceiling that fell, and then took the stairs, running down them as fast as I could without getting hurt. Natty was still right behind me.

“I have to get to Connor,” I screamed, covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve.

Killian burst through what was left of the front door, sliding over all the debris that fell.

“Where’s Laura?” His frantic gaze nearly robbed me of breath.

I pointed up. “Safe with Callie in Natty’s room.”

I rushed past him, aiming for the kitchen, when Jameson burst through the back door, his chest heaving, and a huge bloody gash ran down the length of his hairline. He didn’t waste a second before closing the distance between us and wrapping me in his arms.

“Connor?”

“With Red, I’m going to find him,” I muttered as we separated. His hand was in mine, his other was at his side, holding a firearm.

The pantry door was closed and when I opened it, I saw the floor had a door that likely led to a cellar. Jameson pulled on the bronze handle and, sure enough, a set of stairs led down to a dimly-lit basement.

I scaled the steps quickly hearing Connor’s cries. Red was trying to soothe him by rocking him in her arms. She had a nasty cut on her head, and she was limping.

She set my son into my arms immediately and Connor began to calm.

“Is he hurt?” I practically sobbed, but Red shook her head.

“I slid his car seat under the big kitchen counter down there, nothing hit him. But I think the loud sounds scared him.”

I let out a sigh of relief as Jameson brushed his fingers over Connor’s head.

“We have to get up there and see what’s going on,” Red said, looking up at the trembling floorboards above our heads.

“Do we know who’s attacking us?” Jameson asked, pulling me closer to his side.

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