Page 29 of Breathe
“Um, who are Real and Stone?” Jess, their third roommate, asked.
“They’re just friends,” Cash said.
“Real’s a weird name,” Jess snorted, taking off his headphones and giving them his full attention.
“It’s just a nickname, I think,” Cash said and placed his toiletries bag on the dresser he and Apollo shared. He wasn’t going to discuss Dave’s team members with anyone.
“Because he likes to keep itreal?” Jess cackled at his own joke.
Cash laughed and shook his head.
The knock on the door had Jess jumping up to answer it.
“Hello?” Jess said, and to Cash, it sounded like his roommate didn’t know who was at the door.
Before he could inquire, Jess was shoved back into the room and a man entered and shut the door.
The silencer in the guy’s hand was the next thing Cash noticed before the sound of the gun being fired.
Apollo leaped toward the gunman.
Snick.
Snick.
Not a soul from the noisy dorm area outside their room would have heard the soft whomp of the silencer going off twice.
Cash didn’t have that problem—he witnessed firsthand where both bullets had ended up.
One in Jess’s head and the other in Apollo’s stomach.
“No!” The cry ripped from Cash’s throat as he ran to Apollo, who had fallen to the floor. The gun was now pointed at him, but he didn’t give a shit.
Apollo lay on his back, gasping for breath, wide eyes locked on him.
Cash pressed hands to the wound pouring blood from just below Apollo’s rib cage.
“You fucker!” Cash screamed at the gunman.
When the man casually stepped over Jess’s prone body, Cash knew his friend was already dead.
The gunman looked familiar, but Cash couldn’t place him at the moment.
Apollo gasped and rolled a hand with his palm open. In it lay his cell phone, on the screen was the campus police phone number—they had both put them on speed dial. Perhaps it was because of their past, but Cash was glad for it.
Campus police had answered the call on the other end and were listening.
Help would be coming, but Cash didn’t know how fast they could get here. Nor, if Apollo could hold on that long.
“Why did you kill Jess! Why did you shoot Apollo? What the fuck do you want?” Cash screamed at the gunman, trying to give campus police enough information.
“Get the man they call Real on the phone.” The gunman walked over and held out a cell phone to him.
“I don’t know his number,” Cash said, and the business end of the gun was suddenly pressed to his forehead.
“But…I can find out. I’ll use my own phone or they won’t answer,” he said shakily and pulled his own phone from his pocket.
“You try anything and I’ll kill you and find him anyway,” the gunman said, shoving the rim of his glasses back up his nose to stare at him through the lenses.
