Page 7 of Splintered Memories
Emersyn
Underfire?
I didn’t understand August’s words until three more sharp cracks resounded through the street. My blood chilled as it sank in…gunshots. Those weregunshots.
My heart rate kicked into overdrive as August’s arms tightened around me. He flattened himself over me, cocooning my body in a shield of warmth and strength.
Oh, God.
The silence that followed the last of the shots was long and heavy. Minutes stretched on until it felt like hours had passed. My muscles strained, taut and bracing for the next crack…for the possibility of impact.
August’s chest was flush against mine. His rose and fell with rapid breaths that matched my own. My ears rang, the echoes of those gunshots lingering as my skin heated with panic pumping through my veins like fire.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I was vaguely aware of August’s body shifting. My limbs shook, my fingers curled into the fabric of August’s soft cotton shirt. A voice broke through the ringing in my ears. Someone was saying my name.
“Emersyn?” It was August, his voice low and gravelly, but steady. “Come on, sweetheart, I need you to open your eyes.”
I wasn’t aware that I had closed them. A finger hooked under my chin, gently lifting my face up.
“Emy? Can you hear me?”
Someone brushed my hair away from my forehead, and I frowned, still not opening my eyes. I realized, I was afraid to.
“Don’t—” I gasped, my voice trembling. “Don’t call me that.”
Finally, my head cleared enough to force my eyelids open. August’s face swam in my vision, fuzzy at the edges, but I saw the relieved smile tugging at his mouth.
“Are you injured?” His eyes scanned over me.
I blinked and then squinted, trying to clear my vision, but I was no longer wearing my glasses. I tried to take stock of myself, to figure out the answer to his question, but the only thing I could focus on were the tremors raging through me and the weight of August’s body over mine.
“I—I don’t think so,” I finally murmured, because there was no pain piercing through my senses. “My glasses?”
August frowned, his eyes darting around the sidewalk before he reached for something. “Here.” He pushed the glasses back on my face.
There was a scratch on one of the lenses, but everything sharpened. The worry and fear carved in the lines around his mouth had my own pulse spiking again.
“We need to get inside.” His calculated stare moved around us, from building to building surrounding the street.
I nodded. How long had we been laying here? Had anyone else been hurt?
August wrapped a hand around mine fisted in the fabric of his shirt. He leaned down, his forehead almost touching mine as he held my gaze. “On the count of three, I want you to run.” He jerked his head toward the small alley where I had come from. The door to reenter the building was at the back. I could make it. “I’ll stay right behind you, okay?”
I nodded again.
August dipped his chin once, his hand squeezing mine. “One,” he started, and my muscles coiled. “Two.” His weight shifted off me and to the side, but somehow his broad form still mostly covered me. “Three!”
I launched myself to my feet. August’s warmth stayed behind me, one of his hands on my back as we bolted for the alley and down the side of the brick building. My legs were wobbly, but I ignored the feeling, pushing harder until my hand wrapped around the back door and I yanked it open.
A small lobby was inside. It was empty, and I leaned against the wall, my hand over my erratic heart. My eyes darted around me, looking for danger, but I had no idea where the danger had even come from.
It didn’t make sense.
August appeared in front of me. “The police are on their way,” he said, and I wondered when he had time to call them.
My chest heaved with a breath I couldn’t catch. I blinked, and August’s concerned gaze flickered and spun. That couldn’t be good.
I needed to get a grip on myself.
