Page 116 of Under the Lies

And as if they feel my stare, they shift toward me. A sea of people separate us, but I know they’re looking right at me.

Invisible spiders crawl down my back, making me shiver.

Slowly, everything else fades away. And not the kind of fading when it comes to Noah, where it’s just him and I in the room even when surrounded by people.

No, this is different, where everything disappears in stages.

First the noise goes, then the people, then it’s only the stagnant air and the feeling of knowing something’s going to happen, but you don’t know what.

Until I do.

They reach behind their back and suddenly a gun is in their hand, held above their head as one, two, three shots fire in the air.

All hell breaks loose with it.

People scream and shove, turning into frantic mayhem as it takes Noah and Seamus a minute to catch on that the sound wasn’t encouragement or cheering.

It was a threat.

A threat that’s staring at me. Barrel aimed at me. Chamber loaded for me.

I’m immobilized, railed to the ground in fear.

Some people have a fight or flight instinct in the face of death.

I have a scared opossum reaction where I freeze up.

I can’t move. Not even when my head is screaming at my legs to go, go, go.

The only movement I’m able to do is looking at Noah when he calls my name.

I see my truth in his face.

The pain in the knowledge that he won’t be able to reach me in time.

It’s so pure, so full of things he’s never said that my heart cracks knowing I’ll never see that raw emotion on his face again.

I don’t know where Thea went, or where everyone aside from Noah is, as another shot rings out. Masses are pushing and shoving, screaming and crying to reach an exit when everything happens so fast.

I wait for a blow that doesn’t come.

Instead, I get tackled to the ground. Hard.

My elbows and chin collide with the floor, unprepared. A loud popping pierces the air.

My body tenses and not just because there’s a man of hard, solid muscle sprawled out on top of me.

It’s enough to shake me from my possum chamber.

I buck my hips, shouting, “Get off—”

He smothers my mouth with his hand. I feel his lips press into my ear as he angrily whispers, “Shut the fuck up.”

Gabe.

I relax into the sound of his voice.

The popping goes off again, this time longer and even louder than before and my body goes tense again. It sounds closer.

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