Page 48 of Her Keeper
While insisting that she could take care of things on her own.
I guessed this week’s Penny was a whole lot closer to being like Sloane and Brooks. Not there yet—not by a long shot—but closer.
I let myself smile a bit at the comparison, knowing they would both hate it.
And then I saw the car pull into the driveway.
I sighed a relieved sigh, thinking Joseph and Michael were finally back. Then I realized that that wasn’t Joseph’s car. It wasn’t a smooth, sleekly beautiful BMW, all chrome and black polish.
It was a generic black sedan.
And the men climbing out of it weren’t Joseph and Michael.
They were, however, heavily armed.
I stepped away from the window before they could see me and ran for the bedroom where Sloane and Brooks were playing cards.
“Men,” I gasped when I got there. “In the front. Not our friends. Guns.”
Sloane’s head popped up, her face intense, and Brooks stood quickly beside her.
“Right,” she muttered. “They found us, then. Must have been waiting for the guys to leave before they made their move. Let’s go.”
The three of us turned and sprinted for the back door just as the banging started on the front door.
“We know you’re in there!” a voice boomed out. “Open up and this will go easier for you!”
“Well we won’t be in here for long, so that should solve the problem even better,” Sloane huffed.
Brooks got to the back door first and threw it open, exposing the back alley. It was empty of men, thank God, but still held Michael’s car. Just as sleek and beautiful as Joseph’s.
“Shit,” Brooks muttered. “Did anyone grab the keys?”
I yanked them out of my pocket and threw them to Sloane, the best driver in our midst, and we rushed to the car, throwing open the doors and piling in so fast that I ended up on Brooks’ lap.
She shoved me into the backseat, slammed the door, and screamed, “Sloane, go!”
Sloane jammed the key into the ignition, turned on the car, and screeched away from the curb, her hands tense on the wheel and her body tipped forward like she could somehow make the car faster with her own strength.
Behind her, I was leaning forward as well, willing the car to fly as we fled from whoever had found us. I didn’t know who they were or how they’d discovered the house, but there was no doubt that they meant trouble. And we were currently alone without guards, which meant they’d definitely watched Joseph and Michael leave.
Gunshots rang out behind us and we all ducked. I cringed when I heard the bullets hitting Michael’s car but thanked whoever was watching out for us that we were already well on our way and out range. I hoped.
The moment we got out onto the main street, though, the black sedan fell in behind us, tires squealing and guns blasting from its windows.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Sloane shouted. “Who the fuck are those guys?”
“I think that’s a moot point, Sloane!” I shouted back. “The shooting makes me think they’re not our friends. Does anything else really matter?”
“Penny’s right,” Brooks added. “Just get us the hell out of here.”
Sloane took a quick right, gunned the engine, and then swerved left, flying down another residential street that held a hundred houses just like the one we’d been staying in. People on the street stopped to watch us fly by, grabbing their kids and shoving them back toward the houses, and I prayed that no one would be hit by random gunfire.
“Why is it always us getting chased by men in cars?” Sloane muttered, swerving around another corner and then taking another immediate turn. “And why can’t they chase us in neighborhoods I actually know?”
“Karma,” Brooks answered sharply. “You’re paying for something you did in your last life.”
“You’re confusing me with you,” Sloane replied. “You’re the one who did terrible things in her last life.”
