Page 13 of Deviants
The girl could be no older than ten at most. I hated all the possibilities of what could be happening to her. It killed something inside of me even thinking about it, because I knew there was nothing I could do.
I couldn’t help anyone else without helping myself first. I had to ensure the potential life growing inside me would never have to go through what I did.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Iwas going to ignore him, but the urgent tone beneath his whispered words had me rolling out of bed.
Pulling the chair away from the door, I cracked it open and felt my glare morph into a frown, seeing Tito as distraught as he was.
“Come with me,”was all he said before spinning around and zooming back down the stairs.
Grumbling in the back of my throat, feeling far less than energized, I followed.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping off the last stair.
He wordlessly waved me forward without turning away from whatever he was looking at. I crept up beside him and used my hip to bump him out of the way so I could peer out the storm door.
I was immediately taken back to an old movie calledChildren of the Cornwhen I saw the little girl from the pictures on the wall staring back at me. I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
“How did you know she was out there?” I asked him, never taking my eyes off her.
“She knocked and then ran back down the stairs.”
I hummed in response. She didn’t look to be under duress. Her clothes were clean, and her dark hair was neatly parted down the middle. Everything about this was off to me.
It was the middle of the night, her family was behind me with bullet holes in their foreheads, and she was wandering around the woods playing ding-dong-ditch?
Not fucking likely.
“We can’t leave her out there,” Tito said before he bumped me back out of the way and tried to open the door. I threw my weight on the wooden surface, slamming it shut with a loud bang.
I turned my head and glared at him. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”
My warning either went right over his head or his flawed compassion meter was at maximum capacity. With a look of abhorrence aimed at me like a weapon, I was shoved sideways, almost falling on my ass. Tito threw open the door, charging out before I could stop him.
The gunshot sounded like it came from the right, but I knew it was the left. Tito’s leg buckled just as he hit the first step, his bellow echoing louder than the gunfire as he fell in an awkward heap on the walkway.
Arterial spray peppered the gray paint on the stairs and the cracked concrete.
The little girl looked at him and smiled as four people stepped from the surrounding darkness.
A man stroked her head and told her,“Good job”before settling his gaze on me. I quickly assessed the scene. Tito held his hand over a leg that was gushing like a geyser, doing his best not to show he was in pain.
There were three men and a chick with dirty blonde hair standing around him in a semi-circle, all looking up at me, and all carrying long black guns hooked over their heads.
This obviously wasn’t good.
Taking a silent breath, I stared into the cerulean blue eyes of the man straight ahead. I locked down my poker face, forcing myself not to look at Tito.
It was always friends and family that wound up used as leverage against you in dire situations—precisely why it was best not to have any.
“Why don’t you come on out.” Blue Eyes spoke, breaking the tense silence. It wasn’t a question as much as it was a politely spoken demand.
Damn Tito and his stupidity! How did he miss the fact that the little girl was bait? Her demented ass wasstillsmiling down at him. He walked himself into this. I didn’t feel an ounce of sorrow for his suffering, because now I was in shit with him.
“What if I don’t want to?” I asked innocently.
Blue Eyes barked out a laugh, flashing his teeth. Surprisingly, they weren’t the color of urine. His clothes were clean and he was unmistakably healthy, letting me know these weren’t your average band of outliers.
