The Arrangement Anthology 2(47)
But he doesn’t stop. Unarmed, Sean strides across the room, zips his coat, and jumps out the shattered window to the ground far below. Horrified, I stand up and watch him disappear into the darkness. Fear courses through me and I think about going after him, but I’ve lost too much blood. The gash in my arm is dripping down my side and if I don’t stay still, I’ll pass out. As it is, the wound is throbbing, but the gun in my hand distracts me more.
I can’t imagine what’s going through Sean’s mind. When those blue eyes locks with mine, something inside me cowers. They’re cold, detached, and completely ruthless. Whoever did this is dead. I saw it on Sean’s face, and I wonder. The act of handing me this gun had to suck him into his past in a very real way. Add in the blood and someone trying to shoot me…
As I think, I manage to pull on a pair of Sean’s sweats, and that’s when reality hits me. This wasn’t an accident. Someone tried to kill me. I’d be dead right now if Sean hadn’t pulled me to the floor. My knees give out and I sit down hard, clutching the gun against my chest like it’s a teddy bear. Tears fill my eyes as terror overflows from my heart and trickles down my cheeks. I glance at the gun and can’t stand to hold it. Leaning over, I place it on the floor and push it away with my foot, before sinking back into the couch. I grab a remote control and shut off all the lights. The darkness swallows me whole, and the only sounds I can hear are my pounding heart and the wind rustling the branches outside.
The room grows colder from the open window. I remain where I am, lost in shadows, on the couch, gripping my arm and holding it up to slow the bleeding. I’m not thinking about the wound or if I need stitches—I’m wondering about Sean.
As far as I could tell, he jumped out the window, defenseless. Whoever took the shot is long gone, at least I hope he is. I pull my knees into my chest, wishing I could vanish. I can’t calm down and it feels like my chest is going to explode. It’s as if I’ve been sitting here forever, and every little sound makes me jump as I watch through the window for signs of Sean.
That’s when I hear it. The sound is barely there, but it makes my eyes grow wide and my pulse quicken. My head snaps toward the noise. I frantically look for Sean through the shattered window, but he’s not there. I can’t see anyone, but I hear footfalls inching closer, crunching their way through the dried grass and fallen leaves. The sound is softer than my breaths but it sounds like drums pounding in my ears.
The paces are too slow, too careful. My eyes dart through the night, seeking any sign of who’s approaching. The person passes the window, out of sight, and is approaching the front door.
Sean’s words ring in my ears over and over again, If anyone comes in shoot them.
I can’t shoot someone. Killing a person, ending their life, even if they tried to kill me first—I can’t do it. I glance at the gun on the floor and know it should be in my hand, but I can’t touch it. That thing destroyed Sean’s life. It feels like a bad omen to even look at it.
There’s a scraping sound at the front door, a metal key sliding into the lock. The knob twists, and just before the door opens, I jump up and frantically look for a place to hide. There isn’t anywhere obvious, so I act on instinct and dart across to the kitchen, tug open one of those huge cabinet doors, and duck inside. Crouching down as low as possible, I curl into a ball. My hands are around my ankles and I’m shivering all over.
A small slit is in front of me where the cabinet doors meet. It’s not enough to see anything, but I know the person isn’t Sean. If it was, he would have flipped on the lights and called out to me. This person is quiet, slowly walking across the floor. My heart slaps into my ribs so hard that I think they’re going to crack. Biting my lips, I remain crouched, peering into the opening.
The man passes me, craning his neck from side to side, searching. Does he know his shot missed? Is he here to finish the job?
Dark boots pass the couch and then the bed. He stands to the side of the window and looks down at the blood on the floor. The way the moonlight catches the glass looks beautiful in a haunting way. Some of the shards glisten red, nearly black.
A scream is building inside of me and it’s everything I can do to not release it. Where is Sean? My jaw is locked, biting hard to keep quiet.
When the man turns, I see a weapon in his hand—a rifle. He raises it and turns slowly, as if he heard my thoughts. He inches toward the bed and aims at the center of the mattress. He holds the gun there for half a beat and fires.
The sound does exactly what he wants—the blaring noise makes me jump and let out a small shriek. It slipped between my lips before I could stop it. The man turns in my direction. He knows where I am. I swear that he can see my eyes, because our gazes lock as he walks toward my hiding place.