Page 65 of Rebellious Reign

“Frank, where the fuck are you? Doesn’t take that long to feed the bitch.”

I look again, and he hasn’t turned around, so I practically jump across that doorway and cross the hallway, standing beside the last open doorway and my freedom—if I can get the front door open.

“Fucking hell, Frank. I don’t know why I let you do anything,” the guy mutters loud enough for me to hear him.

There’s shuffling, and I can tell he’s probably getting up to check on the guy. I can’t creep around anymore. I don’t even look in the last room. I cross the opening, and my hand is on the front doorknob. It rattles loudly as I spin the lock, and my sweaty hand slips.

“Open, open. For fuck’s sake, open,” I chant under my breath.

I check over my shoulder. He still hasn’t come out. He chuckles again. Something must have caught his attention on the TV. I turn the knob lock and spin it.

It opens.

“Thank God,” I say and pull it toward me, opening it up to the bright outside world in front of me.

“What the hell?” I hear yelled behind me.

I don’t even look. I run. My arms pumping, my legs flying, I head down the street, and I’m gone.

A gunshot rings out behind me, and I jerk to the side, diving between houses. I’m in some sort of subdivision. Not a nice one. A large dog slams into the fence beside me, snarling. I skitter to the other side, a scream wrenching from my throat. He continues to slam into the chain-link fence, and I keep going. I make another turn, and I’m on another street. A car passes me, honking. I don’t know why. I’m nowhere near it.

It could be how I’m dressed. I don’t know. I’m not sure how long I run, but my already-bruised feet are screaming at me as I slow down. I’ve stepped on glass somewhere, not even feeling it until now, but the sharp slice is leaving a nice trail of blood for someone to follow. I really need to bandage my injuries up so they don’t get infected.

I have no idea where I am, but it doesn’t look like the area is getting any nicer. I slow to a walk beside a building and try to dodge others on the same sidewalk. I’m getting nasty looks, and one woman even spits at my feet.

“Move along, honey. This is our spot,” she says.

My eyes widen. I take her in, then glance down at myself and realize she thinks I’m a prostitute.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t fucking care,” she says.

I hobble away from her and go across the street. I don’t know where I’m going, and I want to laugh and scream and cry, all at the same time. I’m exhausted, still starving, and barely functioning, apart from the adrenaline running through my body right now.

I don’t slow down though. I need to put as much distance between myself and that house as I can. I need to figure out where I am and where I can even go. Maybe there’s a shelter around here that will take me in for the night? I can tell the sun is dropping. I’ve still got a few hours of daylight left, but I don’t want to be on these streets at night. I don’t want to be on them right now.

I’m getting catcalls and lingering looks as I pass people, all from sketchy-looking men. I duck and keep going. So far, no one else besides that woman approaches me.

Then, before I know it, it seems like everyone has disappeared.

20

CONNOR

We finally skid to a stop outside the security gate to my house and wait for it to roll open. Then, Geo is speeding up the driveway. I don’t think any of us have said a word since we left. Ginny is in the front seat, acting like she’s not crying, but we hear her sniffle occasionally. I know it must be hard on her. It’s hard on all of us. Though I would mourn Lucas over her father any day.

It’s as if the events of the night happened inside of five minutes, and we are all left reeling. We—I—have to go inside now and explain to Arie that her brother died and that her father is still alive. Fucking karma is a bitch. Of course her father would make it out alive and the one person she loves and clings to is gone.

I tuck my gun in my holster as we climb from the vehicle. I straighten my tux jacket, but I don’t know why. It doesn’t really matter what I look like right now. I’m fortifying myself.

Dean goes to wrap an arm around Ginny’s shoulders in a rare show of affection, but she shakes him off. He slips his hands in his pockets and keeps walking. Geo stops beside me, and we stand there, processing.

“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” he asks, and I know what he’s asking.

“I will. But I want you there. You should be a shoulder to cry on,” I say, and he nods. I know he won’t protest.

“Should we wait until morning?” he asks.

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