The Arrangement Anthology 2(48)
My heart thumps harder as I begin to shake uncontrollably. I’m going to die. He’s coming to kill me and I’m hiding in here like a coward. After everything I lived through, after everything I fought for, to be here now and have Sean’s ring on my finger, after losing my parents, and becoming a fucking prostitute—this is how I die—hiding in a cabinet.
My fear rapidly shifts to anger. It isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. As soon as something good happens to me, it’s chased by death. Fuck that. I reach around to see what’s near me and grab a bag. I rip it open, knowing that the crazy gunman already knows my location, and then reach blindly on the shelf with my other hand for something—anything.
Just as my hand lands on something useful, the man speaks, “Got ya.”
He pulls the door open and I jump out at him like a deranged jack-in-the-box jerking the open sack of flour as I go. The white powder flies, temporarily blinding him. The man steps back, giving me enough time. I don’t think about the contraption in my hand or what I’m going to do with it. I take my chance, my only chance. The tip of the man’s gun drops enough that I have an opening and I take it. My arm swings down hard and fast, jabbing the meat thermometer into his face. I feel it sink into his eye.
Screaming, the man swipes at me with his weapon, making it clothesline me across my chest. The force sends me sailing backwards and I land on the floor. The man is shouting, clutching at his eye, and hurrying toward me. He raises his gun, ready to shoot. “You motherfucking—”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. A loud crack fills my ears as I watch him fall to the floor with a bullet in his head. I’m standing before him with Amanda’s gun grasped firmly between my hands, my elbows locked, and the gun still pointing to the place where he stood.
I don’t remember picking it up. I don’t remember anything.
Tremors rake through me, but I can’t move from that spot. Rapid footfalls make me whirl around to the open front door. Sean is standing there, breathless. I can’t move. I can’t lower the gun.
Sean holds up his hands, “It’s just me. Are you all right?” His voice is so wrong, so frightened. A swipe of dark red runs along his temple and drips onto his cheek. Sean looks past me at the dead man on the floor, before his wide blue gaze returns to my face.
Tears fill my eyes but don’t fall. It feels like something is crushing me and I can’t breathe. Gasping, I try to make sense of what happened, of what I’ve done. My grip on the weapon is so tight that I’m shaking, which makes it difficult to hold. Slick palms don’t help either and as I squeeze the hilt hard, it slips from my hands and falls to the floor. My jaw drops and I don’t know if I’m trying to gulp air or going to vomit. My knees give out as soon as the gun slips from my fingers and I crash onto the floor. The room tips sideways as it spins. Sean calls my name, but he sounds as if he’s a million miles away. The edges of my vision flicker before everything fades to black.
CHAPTER 4
I wake to the sound of Sean’s voice. It’s low and urgent. “I don’t give a fuck where he is. I’m flying into MacArthur Airport and I need him there. It’s not optional.” Sean’s back is to me and he’s breathing hard. I’m lying on the bed, covered in a mound of blankets. It’s still night, so it surprises me when I glance toward the opening where the window had been and see a few men hoisting a new pane of glass into place.
“You’re up.” Sean is standing over the bed and looks down at me with such sorrow in his eyes that I can’t hold his gaze.
I glance at the crew and back at Sean. “Yeah, I’m up.” For a second, I tense and glance around, looking for the body, but it’s gone.
Sean sits next to me and places a hand on my shoulder. The gentle touch makes me jump. “It’s all right. Everything is all right. I made arrangements to get your arm looked at, but we need to get out of here.”
I want to ask where the body went and a thousand other questions that are racing through my mind, but I just nod. Sean speaks to the crew again, and they assure him that the house will be restored to its original condition and that no one will know anything ever happened.
The crew leader is wearing dark jeans, a jacket, and a baseball cap. He’s an older guy. He grins and says, “There won’t be a single shard of glass anywhere when we’re done.”
Sean doesn’t smile. He simply nods and looks the man in the eye. “Silence is worth its weight in gold. There are bonuses for those who finish early and keep things to themselves.”