More Than a Hotline Fling

-32-

My phone ringing tempted me out from behind the two layers of locked doors. I stood up on shaky legs. Circling my hand around the door handle, I jumped when a loud crash erupted in the living room.

Quivers vibrated my lower lip as Bullet released another low growl. "No."

My hands flew to my hair, where I wrenched my nails into my scalp. I cupped my ears every few seconds that the alarm rang. Painful beats thudded in my chest, my heart slamming against my sternum. Frozen, I couldn't think and wheezed for breaths.

Muffled voices entered the apartment. With another smash, the alarm halted into dead silence. Its weight crushed my chest, filling my stomach with dread.

No. No. Fuck, this can't be -

With heavy footsteps and a few crash sounds, the voices got louder. Even with straining, I couldn't make out their words.

Turning away from the door, I scanned for options in the closet. My eyes widened on Damian's six-foot, black metal safe on the back wall. Within two steps, I slammed a damp palm on the security pad. It was so sweaty and shaking that the scanner misread my prints on the first two attempts.

I exhaled a shaky breath when it clicked open.

Reaching inside, I yanked open Damian's gun safe, then twisted the combination lock. Clicking it open, I reached for his Glock to another door bang. I grabbed his box of bullets, dumping it on the floor in between my knees.

The bullets bounced over the carpet, softly tingling against each other. I grabbed the closest one.

Following a heavy thud, the bedroom door crashed.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck..." Tears sprung to my eyes, but I blinked them aside as my fingers threaded one bullet into the chamber.

One.

A slam on the closet door jolted both me and Bullet. Falling back, I landed on my ass. Positioned between us, Bully's hackles raised gray porcupine quills on his back. His low growls dimmed under the thunderous beats in my ears. With frenetic, electric beats, the veins on both sides of my neck threatened to burst.

Move faster!

Reaching down, my trembling fingers pinched the second bullet out of their grasp. It landed on my right thigh and rolled down. I grabbed it and slipped it in.

Two.

A man's voice muffled through the door.

"Aquí!" (In here!)

The sound froze me for a moment. I couldn't blink, scratching the dryness in my eyes. All thoughts drained out of my mind. My lungs were burning. At this point, I choked in air. Only my heart thundered.

A second knock, louder and more forceful, jolted my awareness back.

"No, no, no," I whispered over and over as my fingers threaded another bullet in place.

Three.

Crash!!

The sound wrenched my shoulders up to my ears and a scream scratched itself up my throat. A chunk of the wall near the lock broke off and fell to the floor. Out of time for bullets, I grabbed one of Damian's tasers and flipped the charge with the pad of my thumb.

Banging the back of my head on the wall, I curled into the corner behind Damian's safe. Gun in one hand, taser in the other as a single-word chorus repeated in my mind.

No, no, no, no, no....

The door was smashed with another loud bang. It flew open, swung on broken hinges, and banged into the wall. A row of Damian's work shirts absorbed its inward swing.