When Reese comes out of her room, she says, “So, he’s going to expect palm strikes, elbow strikes, and foot stomps. I say we give him something he isn’t expecting. Something no one trained would actually do.”
“Ooh. I like the way you’re thinking,” I say. “What about if we hide somewhere close to the front door, like maybe in the laundry room. He won’t be expecting us there. Then, when he passes by, we jump onto him like spider monkeys and just hang on tight.”
“Oh, fun!” Reese says. “I’m digging this plan.”
I am, too. It’s less stressful. As grateful as I am for the drill, just knowing that Miles is going to be coming to fake break in spikes my adrenaline.
My brother, Ledger, is an adrenaline junkie. If you put him on one end of the spectrum, I’m on the complete opposite end.Allmy brothers are on Ledger’s side of that spectrum, just not quite as extreme. If Ledger is 100 and I’m 1, Jace and Miles are probably 95.
When I’m leading Jace through a mission that is adrenaline-filled, and I’m guiding him from a safe room behind my computer, everything is fine. But if someone actually broke into my townhome (which, honestly, isn’t going to happen in Cipher Springs), I’d be very afraid. And I don’t like feeling afraid.
I don’t like watching scary movies. I don’t like walking down dark alleys. I don’t like vacuuming out my car (because when I’m holding something so noisy, my head deep in my car, unable to see anyone coming up behind me, I’m always convinced I’m seconds away from being ax-murdered). I don’t like roller coasters. I don’t like haunted houses.
Staying away from manufactured horror is what makes me able to be in the dark, because then I don’t have to worry about all the fears they brought up. I only have to worry about the fears coming from my own head. And I’ve got enough of those on my own! I’m not looking to overpopulate the place.
When we get downstairs, I glance at the plastic sheeting. Yeah, Owen’s side is very dark. He has definitely gone to bed. I dim our lights so Miles won’t be able to see us as well when he breaks in. Then Reese slips into the laundry room, and I go just inside the bathroom door, hiding in the shadows, and we wait.
It’s a full fifteen minutes before we hear the faint sound of Miles picking the lock on our front door. He wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to get distracted and let our guard down. I am holding my breath as he opens the door and then silently sneaks down our hallway toward our kitchen.
We wait for him to pass by us, then Reese races out and leaps onto Miles’s right side. He spins, and the second his left side is aimed in my direction,I also leap onto him. We both have our arms locked around his neck to hold on, our legs pinning his arms to his side.
Miles grunts as he moves down the hall, trying to brush us off against the wall as he goes. But he’s not trying as hard as he would if we were actual attackers, so we hold on just fine. “This isnota palm strike to the nose,” he murmurs.
“Exactly,” Reese says.
I am grinning as our weight throws him a bit off balance, and he bumps into our only remaining counter. This isn’t the easiest position to remain in, though, especially with mine and Reese’s legs trying to occupy some of the same space. But my focus is 100% on keeping his arms pinned down. If he can get them loose, he’ll easily pull us off.
The sound of a guttural and very loud roar makes us all freeze and turn in the direction of the sound. Owen has come through the floppy doors that separate our townhomes, a cordless drill in his hands, raised high and threateningly as he races toward us, shouting, “Get away from them!”
“Wait! Stop!” I yell as I release my grip on Miles and drop to the floor, my hands outstretched. Reese drops also, and I can see that she and Miles have their hands out as stop signs, too, as Owen comes to a stop just three feet in front of us. The cordless drill in his hand is still raised in the air. “This is just my brother,Miles. I’m sorry—I thought we were being quiet. This is just a drill.”
“A drill?” Owen says, as he looks up at the drill in his hand, sleep obviously making him not think clearly.
“He was just testing us to see what we’d do if anyone ever broke in. You know, for safety,” I finish, faltering at how it sounds.
Owen lowers the drill and runs a hand through his hair. “No one is in danger?”
I shake my head. “We’re all fine. But oh my gosh, you waking up and barging in here to save us is so sweet!” And endearing. And disarming. And a little too intimate. And I love everything about it.
“How did you even manage to wake up?” Reese asks. “I swear we didn’t make enough sound.”
Owen shrugs. “I don’t know. I think my body just knew something was off.”
My brother reaches out and claps Owen on the shoulder. “You’re made of good stuff, Owen. Untrained, your body couldn’t have woken you up like that if you weren’t.”
“Thanks,” Owen mumbles.
“I can’t say your weapon of choice was the most effective,” Miles says with a friendly grin, nodding at the drill. “But, in the heat of the moment, you grabbed something and came running. That counts for a lot. If you want, I could give you a few tipssometime. Like making sure the battery pack is in it so it has a little heft to it.”
Owen is still looking like he’s in a daze, and he just nods.
I guide Owen close to our wall and away from Miles and Reese. “Sorry about waking you up in a panic. If we do a drill in the future, I’ll make sure it’s during waking hours.”
Owen nods. “I’d appreciate that. I, uh, think I’ll go back to bed now.” He turns to leave.
“Wait. Owen?” When he looks back at me, I say, “It was really amazing of you to run in here to save us. Thank you.” Because it really is the sweetest thing ever. My brothers will come running to save anyone, but they’ve been trained for it. Owen knows nothing, not even what random objects can be used as a weapon, apparently. Yet he still came running. “You didn’t wait to be ready. You just acted. That’s courage.”
I see a hint of a smile before Owen goes back to his side of the wall, taping the door closed behind him. Me? My smile is wide as I sigh against one of the wall studs.
