Page 52 of Don't Let Go

“I’m a stick stuck in the mud. I’ve given up hope on getting out. I’ve come to take this as my life.”

I draped my right arm over her legs. “I can’t believe that. You’re acting like you’re over seventy, and you’ve lived most of your life. Why don’t—”

She sat up and put a finger to my lips. “Why do I feel like you’re going to start quoting some great long-dead writer? I’ve read it all. I know I can escape. Raise my middle finger and slip away. It’s just… I can’t abandon my family like that.”

I traced her kneecap with my fingertip. “I can understand that. You have a lot of family members depending on you. I don’t know what that’s like.” I pushed her legs off me so I could stand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to depress you.” She reached out for my arm.

I leaned against the wall and focused on the map of the world taped to the closet door. “It’s fine. We can’t change where we come from, right?”

Three loud booms came from downstairs, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

Rory leaped to her feet, at attention like a soldier.

“Right.” She sank her nails into my arm, yanking me out of the bedroom. “I think it’s time we head home.”

Everyone was in panic mode. The music switched off as the house filled with the sound of screaming. Like a horror movie’s main character screaming for help until their vocal cords were shredded, and still, no one came.

A limp body covered the stairs. I almost tripped over it.

I reached down to see if he was okay when Rory pulled me away. “Don’t stop.”

We ducked into the kitchen as more gunfire cut through the house. Windows shattered, and the door was busted in. I spotted three gunmen run up the stairs. One stopped to shoot the guy on the ground before following the others.

“Holy shit. What the hell’s happening?”

Rory fell behind a counter, taking me with her. “Gang turf war. They do this from time to time at parties.”

My heart was about to explode, and she was as calm as a surgeon cutting into someone’s chest. “Why aren’t you scared?”

She stared me dead in the eye. “Who says I’m not? I know the best thing is to get out. No point in freaking out now. Best to do that later when you’re safe.”

Made sense, but who the hell reasoned like that?

More gunfire seemed to be coming from the other side of the house. Rory grabbed my hand, and we rushed to the back door.

A man three times bigger than me loomed in front of us. He pointed his pistol at me, and every pore in my body broke out in sweat. I didn’t want to die while still in high school, right after my father.

Yet there I was, staring into the barrel of a gun.

Another guy came from the pool and hit the guy holding us hostage over the head. “That’s Mrs. Giordano’s daughter. We can’t touch her. Come on, dumbass.”

The man listened and nodded at us to leave.

My body felt like it had turned to stone. Rory slapped me across the face to get me to follow her, and we scaled the back fence. As we jogged away from the house, Rory burst into laughter. “That was intense!”

I placed both hands on top of my head, trying to keep myself from having a complete meltdown. “What the fuck? Rory, we were held at gunpoint, and you’re laughing?”

She had to lean against a palm tree as another wave of giggles overtook her. All I could do was stand there as Rory doubled over, and tears streamed down her flushed cheeks.

I swallowed a few times, trying to get my heart out of my throat. Every nerve in me was shaking. The party had turned into a scene out of hell, and somehow, we made it out. Though looking at Rory, I wasn’t sure if we made it out sane.

She wiped her face with the sides of her hands, smearing her eye makeup. “What a rush.”

I shoved my hands into my front pockets so she didn’t see my tremors. “Please explain how this is funny. We almost died.”

She took a deep breath and pulled her hair over to one side, braiding it as we walked down the street. “Gangs run this part of the city. I’ve been in some bad situations, but never like that. It was like a scene out of an action movie.”

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