Fractured Sky (Tattered & Torn #5)(100)

Their laughter had me returning my focus to them. Paul lifted his hand, thumb and forefinger making the shape of a gun as he pointed it at my window. A chill skated down my spine.

Randy laughed and jogged up the steps, ringing the bell.

The sound echoed through my quiet house. But I didn’t move.

The bell rang again.

“Wren,” Randy singsonged. “Come on down.”

Something about his voice had always grated against my skin and set my nerves on edge. My grandma always said we had intuition for a reason, and we were fools if we didn’t listen to it. So, I stayed exactly where I was.

As they continued pressing the bell, I could just make out the two boys. A grade ahead of me, they looked just like the rest of the kids in our high school: T-shirts and jeans, hair a little bit askew. But there was cruelty in them. There always had been.

I wasn’t the only person they picked on, but it was always those physically weaker than they were. Maybe because they’d been given such a hard time in middle school. Maybe that meanness was just in them. Whatever the reason, I gave them a wide berth whenever I could.

“Maybe she isn’t home,” Paul said, looking through the side window.

Randy shook his head. “Car’s here.”

“So she’s out with Holt.”

Randy pointed at the lights illuminating the dining room and kitchen. “She’s home. Bet lover boy will be here any minute.”

An ugly smile twisted Paul’s lips. “What’s wrong, Wren?” he called. “Don’t want to see us?”

“Oh, she’ll see us,” Randy shot back. His hand slipped under his T-shirt, fingers closing around something I couldn’t quite make out as he pulled it from his waistband.

My mind put together the individual pieces before the whole picture. Black handle gripped tightly in Randy’s fingers, silver barrel glinting in the low light. A gun.

A buzzing started in my ears. It wasn’t that I’d never seen a gun before. Our town was far off the beaten path in Eastern Washington, nestled between mountains that meant reaching Cedar Ridge by car in winter was sometimes impossible. We had bears, cougars, and coyotes. Shotguns and rifles were typical, especially for folks farther out.

But I didn’t think I’d ever seen a handgun before, and certainly not in the grasp of a classmate on my doorstep.

Paul laughed and pulled a gun from his waistband, as well. “Did you try the door? It’s probably unlocked.”

It was true that most residents around town didn’t concern themselves with that sort of thing. But I could always hear Holt’s voice in my head. “Want to hear that lock click.”

He hated that my parents left me alone so much. Had drilled it into my head time and again to check all the doors and windows before going to bed. Over time, it had become a habit. A compulsion. I locked every door after I entered. Drove Grae crazy that she couldn’t waltz right in—until I’d eventually given her a key.

My heart hammered against my ribs as my fingers skittered across my phone’s screen. It took four tries to hit those three little numbers. Nine. One. One.

“Cedar Ridge police, fire, and medical. What’s your emergency?”

“T-there are two guys trying to get into my house. They have guns,” I whispered.

“Damn. It’s locked.” I heard Randy mutter.

Paul sighed and bent over, searching the stoop. “There has to be a key hidden somewhere.”

“Who am I speaking to, and where are you located?”

“Wren Williams.” I rattled off my address.

“Wren, it’s Abel. I’m gonna get you some help. You just stick with me. Are you somewhere safe?”

I gripped the curtains as I watched Paul and Randy making their way around the house. Each step brought them closer to that damn ceramic frog my mom kept on the back deck, the one with the key underneath just for emergencies.

“They’re looking for the key.” My voice trembled as they disappeared from sight. Maybe I should make a run for it. But my closest neighbor was half a mile away. It would only take one lucky shot to make me regret taking that chance.

“Is there one outside?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“I want you to hide, Wren. The place they’d be least likely to look.”

My mind spun. How many times had Grae and I played hide-and-seek in this house as kids? Too many to count. I knew every nook and cranny. Yet I couldn’t get my brain to cooperate.

“Wren?” Abel pressed.

“I-I don’t know where to go.”

“How about an attic or crawl space? A closet? Or under a bed?”

A series of images flashed through my mind. Options. Not the attic. The door was too obvious. The entrance to the crawl space was downstairs. I couldn’t risk it. The thought of shoving myself under a bed had my chest constricting.

It had to be a closet. I started moving. Mine would be one of the first places they’d look. I wanted to go to my parents’ and surround myself with their familiar scents, but I forced myself to go the other way to the second guest room.

Panic licked through my veins as I scanned the space. None of the closets provided much protection or disguise. They would be too easy to search.

I darted back into the hall and went to the guest bathroom. I pulled open the cabinet under the sink. Setting the phone down, I hurried to empty it of its smattering of contents. I quickly shoved them into one of the drawers.