Page 30 of Hold On Through The Pain

“Out!” he screamed as he fired the gun into the air.

She flinched, but if she left, her things would be thrown out. She wouldn’t be able to cut hair or have the equipment she needed. Sure, she could pass the test without her books, but she needed her shears.

The chirp of police sirens drew her attention for a half second. When she glanced back at her father, the gun was lifted, barrel pointed straight at her.

She stumbled backward over the chipped concrete walkway, trying to escape her dad, but she fell. Pain raced up her arms and her head pounded. How had she gotten to this place?

From the ground, she stared up at her father, pleading with her gaze for him to stop this. Her mind flashed to Striker and the baby and panic set in. Everything buzzed and her need to protect the baby grew. She couldn’t allow her father to kill her, not with the baby growing inside her, not without saying goodbye to Striker.

14

Shannon knewher father was a lunatic. He was still raving and yelling even with the cops there.

She glanced at the cops and found them out of their cars, guns pointed at her father. She didn’t know when that had happened since she’d been trying to stay upright and not trip over the sidewalk or bushes.

Panic and shock had her operating at a deficit. She needed her things, but she would die if sheraced back into that house. She didn’t want her dad to die, not really, but he was acting like a crazy loon.

She’d made it almost to the curb and was still moving when the cop’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker.

“Put the gun down, sir.”

She stumbled off the curb and into the street, tripping backward. She caught herself on the pavement, the sting in her hands increasing. Her eyes landed on her dad, his beady stare focused only on her. For a second, she believed he would shoot again.

“Put the gun on the ground. Now!” The cop sounded more insistent, more like he meant business.

She inched back, seeking some sort of safety but knowing she wouldn’t find it. She’d lost her family, her home, her everything, and Striker wasn’t calling.

“Ma’am, come this way.”

She glanced over her shoulder. A cop motioned to her, his eyebrows raised. On shaky legs, she moved to him, fear finally coming out as tears.

Life had turned crazy. She was standing in the street with cops while her dad pointed a gun at her.

Panic drove her to beg. “Oh God, oh God, don’t shoot him. He’s a freaking idiot, but don’t shoot.”

“Do you know him?” the cop asked.

Another police car sped close, lights flashing. The new car skidded to a stop, and a guy hopped out, gun drawn.

She was out of control, and she felt like she was in one of those falling dreams, but the freefall wouldn’t stop. It just kept going, and she feared hitting bottom.

Her father still hadn’t put the gun on the ground, but he now had both hands up in the air, the gun gripped awkwardly in his fist. A door slammed behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, not seeing anything. Were their neighbors watching this circus?

The clear blue sky and birds chirping were directly opposite to the storm brewing in front of her. She clutched her hands close, trying to control the fear.

Her dad started to bend over, his words jumbled. It sounded like he was going to give up.

“Ma’am, could you tell me what happened.”

Her head jerked up, and she stared at the cop, her mouth open, eyes wide as her muscles trembled. His words filtered through her brain, and she nodded but didn’t speak.

“Ma’am, you just need to tell me what happened.”

Her hands were shaking, so she clenched themtighter across her waist, her stomach rolling. “Um, sure. Sure. Oh my God, he actually shot at me.”

The officer stayed calm, his voice even. “Ma’am, what happened?”

“I was at home, and he brought some guy over.” She glanced around, pointing to the man who her dad had brought to the house. “That guy.”

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