“Yeah, Phil-Phil. He’s been really good to me the last few months.”
“Vi…”
Something in Juliette’s voice must have given away just how concerned she was becoming, because Vi’s head jerked up. Her eyes widened and then narrowed in disgust.
“Don’t be gross! He’s old enough to be my dad for God sakes. It’s just nice to have one of those again, one that doesn’t ignore or yell at you for waking him up when he’s hungover.”
Feeling guilty, Juliette shifted. “Sorry. I just … I feel like I don’t really know you and this new you is so different from the one I’m used to.”
Vi snorted. “That’s Phil’s doing also. He made me see that being angry at the world doesn’t bring my family back. The only person I’m hurting is myself.”
“Wow,” Juliette murmured, hating the bitter tang of jealousy that actually reared its head. “You and Phil talk a lot, huh?”
Vi shrugged. “A bit. I do spend about ninety percent of my time with the guy. I hated that at first. He was always there, you know? Lurking in the shadows, watching my every move. But he grew on me. Now, he’s kind of the only friend I’ve got.”
That hurt.
While it wasn’t said maliciously, it carved into Juliette like a dagger. It had never dawned on her that Vi would feel alone and abandoned. She had always had an army of friends following her around like loyal puppies. She had a life. How could she possibly feel unwanted?
“But sisterly bonding isn’t why I brought you up here.” Vi hopped off the bed and rose. “I’m going to help you get out.”
It took Juliette a moment to change gears on the conversation.
“What?”
Vi moved quickly to the window across the room and tugged on the lever. The window swung inward soundlessly. Someone—possibly Vi—had sprayed the hinges with WD-40, because everything else in the house squeaked like spirits being tortured. Reaching in, she grabbed the window and tugged. The latches gave seamlessly and the window popped out of the frame, leaving a neat, square hole in the wall. Vi set the window down and turned to Juliette.
“There is a ledge right on the other side,” she said in a quick, hushed voice. “Brace your weight there and turn your waist just enough to grab the tree branch. From there, you have to creep across and down, but watch the bottom, there’s a root that rises from the ground and my foot gets caught almost all the time. But once you’re on the ground, turn left and go into the Ricor’s backyard. Their back light doesn’t work.”
Juliette honestly had no idea what to say or how to react. A part of her was horrified that her sister was so apt at escaping her bedroom. Another part was impressed by the ingenuity and cleverness behind it. But a much larger part was thrilled.
“How long have you—?”
“Since like the fifth grade.” Vi smirked. “You didn’t honestly think I was up here doing homework, did you?”
Yeah, she kind of had. Now she just felt really stupid.
“I can’t believe—”
“Are you going to go or what? They’re going to come in here and check soon and you’ll miss your chance.”
Thinking fast, Juliette hurried to the window. She braced her hands on the ledge and peered over into the darkness below. The ground had become one giant black void that threatened to suck her in. But she didn’t think about it. She threw one leg over and then the other and searched for the ledge Vi had mentioned. There was nothing but air for several seconds and then her heel caught it. She twisted her body, hands on the windowsill, and tucked her toes on the lip.
“You’re doing great!” Vi encouraged in a low hiss.
Heart palpitating, hands slick with sweat, Juliette stretched her body just enough to turn and grab the thick branch resting on the roof. She wondered if that was something nature had done, or something Vi had done. She decided that now wasn’t the time to think about that.
Gingerly, she lifted one foot and stretched it to the thick branch a full two feet away. Her stomach somersaulted and she wondered how the hell Vi did this every night in heels. Breath held, she gave one good shove and propelled herself onto the branch. The thing creaked and wobbled under her weight and it took all her willpower not to squeak.
Vi stuck her head out of the opening in the wall. “Watch for the root!” she reminded her.
Juliette braved a quick nod and started her slow climb downward. She didn’t actually let out her breath until her foot hit bottom. Only then did she double over and wheeze. The cool night air swept around her, tearing at her clothes and licking at the sweat soaking her skin. She tried not to pay attention to it as she sprinted across the yard to the low, wooden fence the Ricor’s had put up a few years back when they’d gotten their Pomeranian Muffy. She climbed over quickly and made her way up the side of the house to the driveway.
From there, she just ran.
Chapter 15
Getting shot had a unique sort of pain that most other injuries didn’t. There was the initial burn as hot metal pierced through flesh. Then the temporary numbness where the brain hasn’t fully caught up to what happened. Finally, there was the crippling sting of a fresh burn and the raging throb of being stabbed. It was probably why most criminals preferred guns to knives.
Killian had been shot before so the sensation was a familiar one, yet it never felt better. It still hurt like a mother. But at least the bullet had gone straight through. Digging fragments out was a whole other process he did not want to think about.
“Sir?” Frank entered Killian’s bedroom, a phone in one hand and a blood soaked towel in the other, pressed down on the knife wound on his shoulder. “The cleanup crew will be here in an hour for the bodies.”
Killian nodded. He heaved one leg down off the bed. Then the other. His body screamed in protest. His skin seemed to be on fire around the hole Frank had stitched up, which seemed to have pissed off the injury. It thrummed with a sort of malicious glee that crawled up the rest of him to antagonize the colorful rainbow splattered across his torso.
Christ, he wanted to throw up.
“Sir, maybe you should stay in bed,” Frank advised.
Killian shook his head. “Need to check on the men.” He shoved unsteadily to his feet and felt the room tilt. He squeezed his eyes shut as his bearings settled. “How many did we lose?”
He heard Frank exhale heavily. “Five.”
Killian opened his eyes, his anger boiling to the very cusp of his control. “Smith?”
“Dead, sir. As are his men. Sir, perhaps you should stay—”
“I’m fine!”
His snarl was like a punch in the gut. It tugged at the stitches beneath the simple slap on bandage and Killian doubled over. Frank’s meaty hands were there, grabbing him and hauling him back into bed.
“You are not well enough to go anywhere,” Frank stated flatly. “I will see to the men—”
“No, they are my men.” But he didn’t try getting up again, all his energy having been vaporized. “I will see to them myself.”
“Perhaps in the morning then,” Frank suggested.
Killian started to shake his head. “No, I need to do it now—”
Frank stiffened. He jerked back with one hand going to the plastic bit in his ear. He said nothing as he listened.
“What?” Killian struggled to get up, but Frank held him down. “Frank!”
Frank lowered the hand. His dark eyes met Killian’s.
“It’s Miss Romero, sir.”
Killian’s entire world tilted this time. He felt the very air flicker between black and red. Blood roared Hot between his ears, deafening him to everything but the madness he could feel clawing through him.
“No…” He shoved the other man back with strengths he shouldn’t possibly possess considering he could barely keep his eyes open. “Where is she? Where’s Juliette?”
“Sir!”
But Killian was already on his feet, his pain numb in the blinding terror pounding through him as he staggered to the door.