Page 31

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A nother storm is rolling in, leaving me with an eerie feeling as I sit beneath the Jacaranda tree in the darkness of the early morning.

Ringo left over an hour ago. I’ve felt nothing but dread since. That familiar feeling has crept back in, but this time, it’s settled deep, like it has no intention of going anywhere.

Everyone is still asleep. The call came in around 1am, so everyone here was out cold. Except for Stoner, who I know is stationed at the front gate.

Mule, my constant shadow, must have taken the night off with Ringo’s arrival earlier, which is fair. There was no need for him to remain on my watch with my husband here.

But he’s gone now, and for the first time in weeks, as I sit at Hope’s gravestone, I am truly alone.

The entire sky lights up, illuminating my surroundings with a blinding flash of lightning… and I stiffen, the air in my lungs getting trapped.

Surely my eyes are playing tricks on me, because I could have sworn, at the last second, I caught sight of the silhouette of a man up on the ridge.

Thunder cracks loud overhead, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. As my heartrate kicks up, thrashing wildly in my chest, I stand from the ground, my paranoid eyes darting around me.

There’s no one there, Abbey. Stop conjuring up stuff that isn’t real.

Another flash, this one delayed, sending forks of lightning streaking across the sky, but I barely register it.

A gasp lodges in my throat, my eyes locking onto not one, but six or seven moving silhouettes up on the ridge… heading straight for me.

I nearly slip as I stumble backwards, heavy drops of rain splashing against my cheeks as I spin and run.

My legs won’t move fast enough as I charge uphill towards the house. My run is a desperate mess, a frantic mix of leaps and waddles, as I try to put distance between me and the men closing in.

“Help!” I scream, the barn and house coming into view as I reach the top of the hill. “ Help !”

By the time I scurry over the rise, Brody and Tucker come crashing out of the barn, guns raised, their eyes scanning as they assess the situation.

“Men!” I yell, pointing over my shoulder. “ There are men coming! ”

Gunfire explodes through the air, but not from the ridge. It’s coming from the direction of the front gate.

“Get her inside!” Tucker bellows over another clap of thunder, and I practically dive into Brody’s arms, never more grateful to see him.

“Lock it down!” The yell blasts from the mouth of the driveway, and I gasp as Stoner comes sprinting from the treeline, turning mid-run to fire shots back into the dark.

Time, as I know it, slows.

Every gunshot is a heartbeat.

Every pop sparks a flash in the dark treeline.

Every step Stoner takes backwards looks like lead is weighing on his feet.

Then… he jerks, arms throwing wide as he flies backwards, his body slamming into the dirt with a loud thud.

“Abbey! Get in here!”

Time speeds up, my hearing returns tenfold, Alana’s scream reaching me over the chaos.

Yanking on my arm, Brody drags me towards the steps of the house.

I don’t even realise I’m crying until hot tears blur my vision, making it hard to see. I stumble up the steps, watching as Millie helps Jols load up with guns, like my new friend is planning on fighting.

“N-no. J-Jols. You can’t go out there.”

Hurrying to me, she presses her lips to my cheek. “This is what I’m trained for, Abbey. Now get inside and stay safe. It’s gonna be okay.”

Her calm confidence does nothing to make me feel better as Alana grabs my arm from Brody, before he follows Jols back out into the rain.

I don’t even get the chance to protest before I’m dragged inside, the door slamming shut as Alana secures the lock.

My hands cradle my bump, trembling, as I stagger into the dark living room where Millie stands by the kitchen counter.

I frown, blinking past my tears at how off the kitchen looks right now.

The benchtop is pushed back, light glowing from where it had been, revealing a set of stairs leading down into a basement.

“Come on. We have to get you and Ma into the panic room,” Alana rushes out as she drags me.

I stumble beside her, feeling like I’ve stepped straight into the twilight zone.

Is this real? Is all of this really happening?

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you safe,” Doreen says with a warm smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

She’s scared.

“The shutters!” Alana calls to Millie as I move deeper into the room, and a loud burst of gunfire just outside the house freezes us all.

Millie is the first to move, dashing to a panel on the wall, frantically flicking a switch.

“Shit! The shutters aren’t wor—” Millie’s voice cuts off, snagging our attention to see her slowly lifting her hands as the barrel of a gun presses to her head.

“No. Please ,” Doreen cries, her voice cracking. “Don’t hurt her. ”

Alana steps in front of her mum, arms outstretched like she can shield her.

My body shakes with violent tremors as I take in the scene. A beautiful family staring death in the eye, all because of me.

“Drop the gun.” Jols’ voice cuts through the air, vicious, steady, and laced with ice.

The man, with his face covered in a black ski mask, chuckles low, like this is nothing but a game. Millie is trembling under the press of his barrel, and Doreen’s sobs are silent, but loud enough to hear.

Still, this man doesn’t care. He’s only here for one thing.

Me.

Time slows again, the man’s eyes flicking to me before he spins suddenly, firing at Jols.

The crack is deafening inside, and I scream as Jols slams back into the wall, blood blooming out in an arc as it soaks through her white tee.

“No!” I scream, watching realisation shift over her face, the colour draining from it as she slides to the floor. “Jols!”

A trail of smeared blood is painted on the wall behind her, before she starts coughing up her crimson lifesource.

“No! Stop!” I beg, the man already taking aim back at Millie.

“Ms Delany, we don’t want to hurt you.” His gaze darts to me while keeping his weapon trained on Ringo’s sister. “Just come with us, and this will all be over. No one else has to get hurt.”

“Go fuck yourself!” Millie snaps on my behalf, and the man chuckles again before redirecting his gun.

Then he fires .

Millie screeches, crashing to the floor as the bullet tears through her leg. Her mum wails, trying to push past Alana, who’s doing everything she can to hold her frail mother back.

“Fine!” I cry out. “I’ll come with you. Just let them go downstairs, please ,” I beg, my voice cracking from the terror of it all.

“Whatever.” The gunman shrugs, like him shooting people is no big deal.

I hurry to Millie. She’s trying to be brave, biting back her sobs through gritted teeth, and I help her up.

Alana rushes forward, taking her sister from me, her eyes trained on the gunman, not trusting what he’ll do next.

Glancing at the opening in the kitchen counter, I see Doreen’s head disappear as she moves down the stairs, and Alana hurries after her to get Millie to safety.

“Come on then,” the man barks, jerking his gun towards the front door, but I shake my head.

“Not yet. I need to know they are safe first. Then I’ll come with you.”

He rolls his eyes but gestures with a lazy swirl of his hand for me to hurry up, so I rush to the opening, peering down to see the three women who mean the world to Ringo stepping inside the small panic room.

Turning back, Alana’s eyes lock with mine before she moves to shut the door.

“Come on,” she whispers, waving me down, but the solid press of a gun to my temple stops me in place.

I swallow the huge lump in my throat, my lip wobbling as I try to compose myself to speak.

“Lans,” I manage to call out.

“Yeah? ”

“Tell Cam…” I swallow hard. “Tell Cam that I love him. That I’ll never forget what he tried to do for me.” This time my sob escapes as hot tears pool over once again. “And tell him that it’s okay for him to move on. He deserves to find the sort of love he’s given me.”

Alana’s rolling tears match mine as she nods, mouthing ‘I love you’ before blowing me a kiss.

Reluctance has her hesitating a moment longer, but I give her a reassuring nod, and she slowly closes the door, locking them safely in.

“Do you mind?” I snap, shooting the man a glare over my shoulder, and he sighs, removing the barrel from my temple.

“Let’s go,” he barks with impatience, and I nod, my hand grazing over the benchtop where a sharp knife peeks out from a discarded tea towel.

The second it’s in my hand, I scream and spin, raw and defiant, driving the knife deep into the man’s chest. He howls, staggering back as gunfire erupts inside the house.

I don’t wait another second, bolting for the stairs, forcing myself not to look at Jols’ lifeless body on the floor.

More gun wielding figures burst into the house, and my heart jackhammers as I push harder, desperate to get away.

“Get her!” The man I stabbed roars, clutching his chest, blood blooming fast beneath his hand.

The newcomers take chase, their boots pounding behind me.

I clutch under my belly as I take the stairs, two at a time, desperate to get to Ringo’s room where I know a gun is stashed under the mattress, and my phone is on the bedside table.

“You have nowhere to run!” a new male voice snarls, way too close, and I squeal as I feel his fingers brush my back as he lunges.

He slips, and I risk a glance back to see him tumbling into another man on the staircase. That man doesn’t help him, just shoves him out of the way and keeps coming.

Hold on, little cabbage. Mummy will get us out of this somehow.

I nearly trip on the last step, but catch myself just in time, rushing forward to Ringo’s door.

The moment I’m inside, I go to slam it but I meet strong resistance. A body. A hand. Someone is pushing through.

“Stop fucking fighting,” the man snarls, pressing into the door from the other side.

“Never!” I scream, pushing against the door, somehow managing to get it closed and locked.

My heart is louder than the thunder and gunfire outside, so I take in deep steadying breaths as I charge down the passage, hoping to slow my pulse as I enter the suite.

Fists pound the door, before something else starts crashing into it, and I know it won’t hold for long.

A loud crack claps through the air, and wood splinters from the gunshot. I squeal in fright, running as fast as I can, skidding around the corner into the bedroom before diving for the mattress.

Heavy feet pound through the suite, whimpers falling past my lips as I scramble to find the gun under the mattress, friction burns on my knees starting to throb as I kneel on the carpet.

The moment my fingers brush the metal I’m searching for, I cry out in relief.

Spinning to my butt, I raise the gun just in time to see one of the men lunging for me. I don’t think. I just act, squeezing the trigger.

The kickback from the gun frightens me, and I lose my grip as the man crumbles to his knees, clutching his stomach.

“Bitch shot me!” he whines, glaring at me like I’m the bad one for trying to defend myself.

I blindly search for the gun, my hand patting over the carpet while my eyes lock onto the second masked man approaching.

“It’s a pity they want you alive,” he spits, his gun trained on me as another man barges into the room. “I’d happily kill you, right here.”

“We don’t have long. Let’s get her out of here,” the new masked man mutters, moving to the one I shot to help him stand.

“What the fuck do you think we are trying to do?” The one closing in on me snaps, but even though he’s talking to his partners in crime, his eyes don’t leave me.

Dammit. I need the gun.

Where is it?

In a last attempt to protect myself, I peel my gaze away from him and search for the gun.

It’s only a few feet away, so I quickly move to grab it, but before I reach it, a strong fist slams into my jaw.

The hit is so hard, it rattles my brain, and for a moment, I fear I might black out from the pain.

I cry out, gagging, the impact completely messing with me, and before I know what’s happening, the men are closing in.

“Hold her fucking arms.” One of the men demands before two sets of feet move to either side of me .

Are there more men here now?

Shit. I can’t make sense of anything. Everything seems darker. Noises seem further. And my head aches so bad.

Shit… Little cabbage… I’m sorry.

As I’m lifted by each arm, a figure steps into the room, a slow clap filling the space and a familiar vulgar laugh joins it.

“You put on quite a show, Ms Delaney.” Ian Allen smiles, like he has a front row seat of my demise. “But your little disappearing act is over now. It’s time to pay your dues.”

I can’t even find words to spit back as air seizes in my lungs. The mere sight of Officer Allen closing in takes me back to the day he threatened my sisters. Takes me back to the mouse I was only a couple of months ago.

Now, standing before me, he smiles, reaching out to snatch my chin as he leans in close. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

I try to rear back, but it’s no use, his grip, and that of his men at my sides has me stuck in place, and a moment later, I feel a sharp pinch in my arm.

“Wha—” My squeak is cut off when my gaze darts to my arm, a dead feeling rushing through it as the contents inside the syringe embedded in my skin gets pushed into my bloodstream.

No .

My gaze follows Ian Allen’s hand as he withdraws the needle, and he smiles at me like we are old friends. “See you in your nightmares, Abigail.”

Then, my room sways, turning fuzzy, right before everything goes black.