Page 163 of Stand: Part One

“Sorry, Mrs. Davis, but you’re to remain inside today unless accompanied by Mr. Davis. No exceptions.”

My eyes went wide with rage. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, ma’am,” he answered, shaking his head with what almost seemed like sympathy.

“Why?”

“It’s not my place to question him.”

I rolled my eyes at the useless response. “Well, when is he coming back?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered.

“How long ago did he leave?”

“About thirty minutes ago.”

I groaned and spun away in frustration.

Fuck.

He would probably be gone for another hour or two. That motherfucker.

Fresh with rage, I stormed down the hallway with Camaro attempting to keep up behind me. Rounding the corner, I headed for the gym to relieve my anger with a punching bag when the sound of a helicopter flying nearby caught my attention.

If Darren was out riding, why was there a helicopter? Was he expecting someone?

The answer to my question came when the hallway ahead of me suddenly exploded. A storm of fire and heat and debris erupted in front of me, the mass of which was enough to send me flying backward, landing hard on my back and side.

Pain burst throughout my shoulder and hips, radiating straight to my pelvis. The heat of the fire licked at my skin, competing for attention as my ears rang from the roar of the blast. I could barely hear the rest of the security alarms going off, the muffled sound blaring in and out all around the house.

My vision wasn’t much better as I tried to fight through the disorientation, the room tilting on its side as water from the sprinkler system began raining down, soaking everything as it tackled the fire.

Somewhere beyond the noise, I could hear Camaro barking, but I couldn’t get my body to fucking cooperate. I struggled to pull myself up, the water soaking my clothes and making me feel even heavier than my rocked limbs already did.

“Camaro!” I screamed through the noise, trying to see past the water, smoke, and debris to find her. Despite multiple voices shouting and alarms blaring, I could hear her barking, her sharp whine leading me as I stumbled through the mess.

When the sprinkler system stopped, my eyes could focus, clarity finally returning to my rocked system. As I climbed over the debris, the sound of more men yelling had me rushing through until I finally found my poor dog stuck under some of the rubble of the house.

Lifting the heavy, wet boards up, Camaro scrambled to her feet, her body moving naturally without any painful cries. Relief filled me when I realized she wasn’t injured but quickly sank to dread when the sound of gunfire caught my ears.

Shit, was this the attack? They were a fucking day early!

“Mrs. Davis!” More shouts came from behind me. “Get down!” A group of guards had made their way into the hallway just when another group of gunmen entered from the destroyed blast site.

“Shit!” I yelled, ducking down behind more debris with Camaro just as the gunfire went off.

What the fuck had happened? Had Matt lied to me? I knew I was a goddamn fool for trusting him.

Cursing Matt for denying the very important details, I waited for the gunfire to cease before grabbing Camaro by the collar and rushing into the next room. After I practically threw ourselves into the space, I realized we had made it into the parlor. As the guards fought off the approaching gunmen, I raced to one of the cabinets and threw it open, grabbing one of Camaro’s protective body covers.

“Come here, girl,” I called, placing the body armor over her wet and dirt-covered torso, quickly strapping it on and tightening it as fast as I could. She growled as her paws clicked madly over the wood floors, her body turning toward the door to guard me.

With Camaro secure, I grabbed the armor fitted for me and strapped it over my wet clothes. Darren had once shown me where at least ten of these armor kits were hidden around the house.

He had little fail-safes scattered throughout every piece of property he owned for this very reason, but the ones I knew about where meant only for me, which meant they didn’t include any fucking guns, only knives, tasers, and first-aid kits.

As I tightened the straps, I remembered that Matt had warned me to be away from the house before the fight started. Clearly, whoever was here wasn’t too keen on ensuring I didn’t get caught in the crossfire. They’d blown up the side of the house I’d been walking through and shot in every direction without hesitation.