Page 2 of Splintered Security
They’re not here. Not yet. And the ones who are coming won’t give a shit about her blow. They’ll only care about the real threat tonight.
At least my words do what I intended. She freaks out and bolts, rushing out the door without a backward glance.
“You can come out now, Anni.”
I plant my feet wide, throw my arms over my chest, and stare at the closed stall door.
“I wish we had time to chit-chat.” No, I don’t. “But that’s not a luxury we have. I need to get you out of here.”
Silence.
“Annika Garver, I’d kick that stall door down if I didn’t think I’d smash you with it. Don’t make me pull it off its hinges tomake a point.” A growl escapes my throat when too many moments pass. I stare at my watch, counting down how long I can be polite. “Anni?—”
The stall door opens, and there she is.
And fuck if she’s not as beautiful as ever.
Anni
Lorenzo Gallo.
God, the man is beautiful. Most men would be too insecure to accept the compliment that word connotes. Not Ren. He must know how gorgeous he is.
His toned body announces to the world he takes care of himself. Six feet, five inches of hard packed muscles. Jet black hair, olive skin, cheekbones that looked carved into his face, and a sharp jaw, with the slightest dimple in his chin. That face has starred in my dreams since I met him.
His angry, navy eyes bore into mine like he’s trying to pin me to the spot. He could melt my clothes right off if he looks at me like that long enough. At least, I used to think so anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself dream like that.
“Hi, Ren.”
“Don’tHi Renme, Anni. You gotta go.”
I plant my hands on my hips and jut out my foot, ready togive him what for, when he tips his head in thought and looks at his watch. His eyes blow wide, and he yells, “Fuck.”
His body hits mine just as the room explodes.
2
upside-down snow angel
Anni
I feel like I’m underwater when I come to. My head might as well be a lead ball, weighted and thrumming. The throbbing between my ears is the pound of blood flowing. I can hear my pulse thumping against my eardrums. There’s pressure inside me only a scream will relieve. Or I wish it could.
I scream. I hear it in my head but I don’t hear it otherwise. I’m trapped inside a muted silence and unable to escape the pressure in my skull.
Blackness surrounds me as I lie face down, my cheek smashed against the wet tile floor, fighting to open my eyes. When I do, I’m met with confetti drifting around me.
Acrid burning metal and ash fill my lungs and I cough, trying to expel what’s foreign from them, only to suck in the sludge from the floor. I wish I weren’t awake. If I were unconscious, I couldn’t smell the tang of singed… is that flesh? I would be able to hear, to see, to move.
Panic sets in hard and fast when the numbness in my body registers. I can’t move. Why can’t I move?
I scream again. And again, no sound escapes me.
I flail, but my arms and legs won’t budge. My ears buzz, my skin feels anesthetized, and my limbs won’t move. Everything in me feels wrong, disconnected, and my fear ratchets to levels I’ve never felt before.
And believe me, I know fear. I’m living with a terror that hangs over my head as sharp as the blade of a guillotine. The last month has been held together by anxiety, panic, and the sheer will to live like no other time in my life.
And in this moment, it all comes to a head.
