Page 65 of Lock Me Out

I only hope I get a little time alone with George before the place goes up in flames.

Her face falls, eyes darting back and forth between us. “What if this is what they want you to do? They could be waiting for you, you know? What happens then?”

“I guess we’ll just have to deal with it,” I decide. “We can’t go right now. We’ll have to wait until later. After dark.”

She blurts out a laugh, but there’s an edge to it—panic, fear, disbelief. “We’re just going to sit around, knowing what’s going to happen later?”

That’s exactly what we do.

We go through the motions of watching TV, eating dinner. I barely pay attention to anything on the screen and hardly taste a bite. All I can focus on is what’s going to happen tonight. And I can’t stop wondering if George is thinking the same thing. He could be waiting outside for all I know—plotting, planning, waiting until it’s late enough that he can get away with sneaking up here.

There’s an uneasy energy in the air, and the hours pass almost silently. Every once in a while, I look at Nix, and I know he’s planning, running through the steps in his head. He’s a lot more familiar with the house—he was always closer with Bradley than I was.

It feels like time is stretching on forever, but before I know it, it’s almost eleven. Nix and I exchange a look, and he nods before I get up and go to my bedroom closet, opening the safe inside.

Leni’s footsteps sound on the floor behind me, and she gasps as she watches me pull a pair of Glocks from inside. “When did you get those?”

“They’re mine.” Nix joins us, takes one from me, and makes sure it’s loaded. “I picked them up one day while you guys were at school. One of the perks of the shit neighborhood I stayed in.”

“On second thought, here.” I take the third from inside and turn to her. “Take this.”

“Wait. What? What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Usually, you point it at someone and pull the trigger,” Nix murmurs.

She doesn’t think his joke is funny—in fact, she scowls at him. “I’ve never fired a gun.” She even hands it back to me, shaking her head.

“It’s easy.” I check to make sure the safety is off before pressing it into her hand. I don’t let go of her wrist until she looks up at me with wounded eyes. “I’ll feel a lot better if you have this, okay? If someone tries to get into this apartment who isn’t Nix or me, you fire. Don’t waste time trying to aim for anything in particular. You just point and shoot.”

After taking a deep breath, she nods slowly. “Okay. Just do me a favor and come back, okay?”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Still, I take my time kissing her. When I’m finished, Nix kisses her forehead. He doesn’t say a word—I can tell he’s locked in, ready to do what needs to be done.

We take his car, where he gets behind the wheel without a word. Finally, I have to ask, “So that’s the plan? We go in, we take them out, we burn the house down?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“No. Just making sure we’re on the same page.” There’s not a doubt in my mind that this is what needs to be done when I remember George’s furious glare. He’s going to kill Leni if we don’t take care of him now.

We are half a block away from the house when Nix parks. “You ready for this?” he asks, staring straight ahead, where the house sits at the end of the cul-de-sac, on top of a hill. The gate sits open, almost like George is inviting us in. Maybe he’s waiting.

The gun in my waistband feels heavier than it should as we get out of the car and go the rest of the way on foot. We walk side by side, being careful to stay in the shadows of the trees lining the driveway.

There are cars outside, but the house is dark.

“Going through the kitchen,” he murmurs. “I remember the code for the security system. It’s Bradley’s birthday. Guess which one was the favorite son?”

“No wonder George was riding Dennis to get answers.” Not that I have even a shred of sympathy.

The back patio is overgrown, unused. Like the people living here haven’t been paying attention—busy worrying about one son and covering up the death of another. The weeds and dead leaves add an eerie feeling as I keep watch while Nix forces open the back door.

Once it’s open, we wait for the sound of a siren inside, but there’s nothing. Only silence. We exchange a glance before he leads the way into the kitchen.

“I can’t see a fucking thing,” I whisper after tripping over a stool. It’s pitch black in here.

“Let me help you with that.”

Before I can process the strange voice, the lights go on, revealing not only George and his wife but also Deborah’s father, Mike.

---