“I think I’ll read, too. In the living room.”
She leaves, and I’m stuck with my own thoughts, trying to figure out why I seem to act like an idiot around her. It needs to stop.
CHAPTER 13
Savvy
“Savvy, I need you to get dressed and stay low to the ground,” Hunter says, waking me from a deep sleep.
“What?”
“Bob’s outside. We need to get out of here.”
I sit up. “Bob’s here? How could he possibly have found us?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s tracking you somehow. Stay low,” he says. “We have to assume he’s armed.”
Hunter leaves the bedroom, and my mind is racing. How is Bob here? How could he possibly have found us?
I get dressed as best I can in the dark. I can’t find my heavy coat. Good thing I tossed my light jacket into my bag before we left. At least I have something. I shove a few things into the zippered pockets.
Staying low, I make my way out to the living room to find Hunter crouched down, peering out the corner of a window.
“He’s not alone. There are two men with him. The two men are going around the back, and Bob is coming to the front door. You are going to stay behind me, and we are going to run out this door to my car. Understand?”
“What about Bob?”
“I’ll take care of him. But we won’t have much time before the other two hear the commotion and come running. Once we’re in the car, you stay down.”
I nod.
There’s a knock on the front door. “Savvy, I need to talk to you,” Bob shouts.
Hunter pulls me behind him, and we stand as he unlocks the door. In his other hand is a gun. I have no idea where that came from, but now is not the time to ask.
He whips the door open. Bob is standing there, and there is a gun shoved into the side of his pants. Before Bob can react, Hunter punches him, knocking him backward. But he doesn’t fall. Instead, he shakes his head and reaches for his gun as Hunter runs toward him.
“She’s here!” Bob yells.
Hunter swings and punches Bob again.
“Run to the car!” Hunter yells.
I sprint to the passenger side and then look back. Bob is on the ground, and Hunter is running this way.
“Get in and duck down,” Hunter instructs.
I do as he starts the ignition and shifts into reverse.
“Stay down. They’re going to shoot at us,” Hunter says.
He guns it, and we reverse out of the driveway at a high rate of speed. The sound of fireworks whizzes around us. But it’s not fireworks. It’s gunshots.
He continues to go in reverse down the road and then whips around and goes forward. I move from the floorboard to the seat.
“They’re following us, so stay low,” he says.
I bend down as best I can, but he seems to be hitting pothole after pothole, and I’m bouncing against the console in a painful way. The back window shatters, and I shriek.
