Outside, the muted rumble of a car pulling up and idling in front of the house made its way through the thin living room window. With their house being the last one on the dead-end street, that meant her dad’s buddies were rolling in early to help him get his drink on.
“Are you kidding me?” Bonnie said, twisting for a peek behind the blinds. “It’s barely after three o’clock in the afternoon.”
Before she could get a glimpse, Kevin shot to his feet, knocked her hand aside and looked for himself. He straightened and shot their dad a look that was all business. “It’s them.”
“God damn it, boy. I told you this wouldn’t be good.” He folded down his footrest the way a gunslinger stowed his gun, stood as quick as he could and waved toward the hallway. “Get Bonnie out of here.”
“She can’t leave. If they see her, she’s fucked.”
“Then get her to my room. Hide her in the gun closet. I’ll stall.”
“Are both of you out of your mind?” Bonnie interjected.
Rather than answer, Kevin snagged her laptop, shoved it in her backpack and manhandled her down the hallway. He lowered his voice as they neared her dad’s room. “You gotta be quiet, Bonnie. No fucking around, all right? Not a single fucking word no matter what.”
“Are you for real right now?” Bonnie twisted as much as his pushing allowed and tried to look in his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing you need to know about.” He jerked open the closet’s bifold doors, slid the clothes aside and opened up the gun closet. The hidey-hole where her dad once kept his illegal firearms was a simple unfinished cabinet with now empty gun racks, but the outside blended with all the rest of the paneling in the room. Kevin shoved her inside and paused only a moment. “Promise me.”
A knock sounded on the front door, and Kevin’s already pale face blanched a deeper shade of white. In all the years she’d known her brother and through all the crazy trouble he’d gotten himself into, she’d never once seen so much fear in his eyes.
Bonnie swallowed hard and pulled her backpack tight against her chest. “O-okay.”
Lips mashed tight together, Kev gave her a sharp nod and closed the door.
The hangers scraped across the metal rod and the bifold doors whispered back into place.
What the ever-lovin’-hell were the two of them up to?
What they’re always up to, her conscience whispered back to her. Doing things outside the way the rest of the world lives and then ending up with their asses in one sling or another.
Voices sounded in the living room, but her heart pounded too hard for her to hear. A sickly sweat built along the back of her neck and her spine.
God, she was sick of this crap. Her whole damned life she’d done her best to stay in the shadows and out of the messes her family created. Why they couldn’t just have normal jobs, pay taxes and lead calm lives like everyone else was beyond her. Everything had to be a party. A scheme, or the next great con.
The voices grew louder, her dad’s gruff take-no-shit tone volleying back and forth with another one she didn’t recognize.
A second later, something cracked. A heavy thud against wood followed by scuffling and grunts. The clatter of the metal screen door against its frame.
Then quiet.
Painfully terrifying quiet.
But she kept her promise and waited.
And waited.
Her legs trembled with the need to move, and her forearms where she clutched her backpack tight ached.
Where the hell were they? She had to have been in the cramped space at least thirty minutes. Maybe more. It sure as shit felt like more. If whoever it was was gone, why didn’t they give her the all-clear?
What if they can’t come get you?
All too easily, the grunts and scuffles she’d heard replayed in her head.
If you think Bonnie’s gonna have enough to bail you out with Pauley, you’re out of your mind.
No way.
Pauley and his goons weren’t the types to bust heads. More like B-grade loan sharks who annoyed you into paying outstanding debts.
Unless Pauley was out of options and was tired of her dad’s crap. Yeah, Kevin might be able to hold his own with someone out to rough him up, but Dad didn’t have a prayer of sticking up for himself.
One thing was for sure—someone was going to have to stick their neck out and figure out what to do next. Per usual, no one else was showing up for the job.
With a deep inhale and a slow exhalation, she eased her backpack out of the way and felt for the release latch in the dark. The cold metal was a welcome brush against her fingertips, but the tiny click that came as she slid it aside felt gunshot loud.
She paused and listened, the air from her father’s bedroom swooshing through the tiny crack she’d created and gently stirring whips of hair against her face and neck.
But other than that—nothing. No movement. No voices. Just an absolute void of activity.
She nudged the door just wide enough to slip free and ducked beneath her father’s clothes. One painstaking step after the other, she rounded the unmade bed to the open bedroom door. A peek down the hallway showed absolutely nothing but the tan shag carpet that should’ve been replaced five years ago and a beam of overcast light from the side window Kevin had uncovered.
Sticking close to the wall, she tiptoed forward, pausing at the two bedrooms along the way to glance inside. Her heart pounded and her lungs clamored for air as if she’d sprinted a mile. At the corner where the hallway opened up to the living room, she hesitated, closed her eyes and braced. Whatever was on the other side, she could handle. She’d had more than ample training dealing with crap like this her whole life. This was just another drop in the bucket.
She pressed one hand to the wall and leaned forward...
Nothing.
Not a single soul.
But the bills and junk mail that had littered the coffee table were all over the floor and her dad’s recliner was turned at an odd angle. The front door had been left open just a crack with only the screen door keeping the cool January air at bay.
So, what? They just left her here? Forgot she was hiding in the closet?
No, her family was crazy and unreliable as hell, but they weren’t so callous as to leave her behind. Not unless they were drunk, anyway. Which had been known to happen a time or two growing up when a special school event had clashed with a roaring party.
With a sharp huff, she slid her backpack off her shoulder, sat it in front of the end table and went to shut the front door. The last thing she needed was someone else unexpected showing up while she tried to figure out what the heck was going on.