Page 9 of Catch Me
My eyes flew open to darkness. That was nothing new. I wasn’t able to sleep unless it was completely dark, shades drawn, not a single light on in the room. Years of night shift duties had made it so that I needed total darkness and blackout curtains to sleep, even if it wasn’t during the day. I laid in bed, my breaths coming slow and steady as my senses took in the inky blackness of my room. The darkness was nothing new, but the presence I felt was.
Every nerve tingled on high alert. The soft tick of my old-fashioned alarm clock was the only sound penetrating the dark. Carefully, subtle inch by subtle inch, I slid my hand from where I’d fallen asleep cradling my head, to underneath my pillow. My movements were slow, timed with the rise and fall of my breathing. I felt my burner phone first, the only phone I had since Simon had destroyed my other one, and praying it was still on silent, I hit just one button before reaching further. When my fingers felt the cool hardness of my suppressed weapon, I paused, waiting.
Then I heard it. The whisper of movement was so soft and subtle that if I hadn't been on alert, or still asleep, I would have missed it. The weight of a step as it slid towards my bed. I tensed. My breath held. And then the darkness exploded.
A large hand landed a heavy blow to my head as I tried to sit up, whipping my gun from under the pillow to fire off a single shot. I was rewarded with a grunt, even as my ears were ringing and pain bloomed on the side of my head. They’d grazed me, whoever it was, but the blow had definitely been meant to knock me out, or worse. I heard a muffled curse and my bedroom door banged open, nearly coming off its hinges, as a second person barged through. The darkness of my apartment did little to allow more light in, but it was just enough that I could make out hulking shadows as I rolled to the far side of my bed and slid to the floor.
“Where is she?” The voice was rough and heavily accented. A low groan of pain answered in return. They couldn’t see me, but weren’t turning on the lights. I wondered what that meant but then didn’t have time to think about it anymore as I heard the distinct slide of a safety being let off and then the room was encased in orange and reds as bullets sprayed where my body had been on the bed. I scooted towards the far side of my room as debris and casings rained down. Then I realized why they weren’t turning on the lights. They were stupid. Because if they’d been smart, they would have blinded me during the brief adjustment time my eyes would need to go from darkness to blinding light, and could have easily overtaken me. As it was, goon number one was slumped back against my closet door, his stricken figure illuminated in the blaze of light coming from the muzzle fire that goon number two was destroying my mattress with. Something about their stupidity and the sight of my bed getting turned inside out pissed me off and without thinking I fired off two more shots, but they went wide grazing goon two’s shoulder and lodging in the plaster next to his head.
“Fuck.” I didn’t have time to think or be pissed anymore. Goon two had recovered and now knew where my exact position was. He swung the barrel of his semi-auto around, bullets spraying in an arc that shattered my mirror and the few picture frames I’d had on the walls behind me. I launched myself forward, instinct driving me, and tackled his legs. My arms wrapped around his knees and he was knocked down with a solid thunk to the ground. He wasn’t a big man, but I knew I’d never win the fight for his gun and it was too close quarters to make the attempt so I did the next best thing and in my scramble to get to my feet dropped my knee straight down into his junk.
I was rewarded with a howl of pain and string of curses but didn’t bother checking on the damage I’d left behind, just continued my scramble forward until I’d climbed over him and reached my bedroom door. Then I was in my short hallway and racing towards my front door. I was stopped short when my nose hit a brick wall. Only it wasn’t a wall, it was a chest. A very muscular chest. Driven by instinct and training once more, I dropped my shoulder, reaching for the man’s arm and drove my hip into his even as I was turning my body and using the off balance weight of him to flip him to the floor.
“Ooof, Hannah! Stop!” The gruff voice snapped at me and I dropped the arm I was attempting to twist out of its socket.
“Michael?” I hissed in surprise but then didn’t have time to ask anymore questions. “Come on bro, we need to get out of here.”
Michael stood just as we heard movement from my back bedroom. Goon two had apparently caught his breath enough to come after me and was scrambling towards the hallway. Michael snapped at me again, “Go, Hannah. Rue is waiting. I’ll take care of this.”
“What?” I blinked and then once more was diving towards cover behind my couch as gunfire erupted around us. Michael landed only half a second behind me and I saw the glint of his weapon just seconds before he flipped around and returned fire.
Suddenly, the gunfire stopped and a lull of silence enveloped us with only the sound of our heavy breathing and heartbeats pounding in our ears.
“Is he…” I let my whisper trail off and Michael said nothing, just motioned for me to stay put where I’d wedged myself between the couch and my bookshelves, before slinking off into the darkness. I glanced from Michael’s retreating figure to the front door, calculating how long it would take me to leap the couch and make my escape should bullets start flying again.
But then I didn’t have to worry about it as Michael returned holding a bloody semi-automatic rifle in his hands. Dark eyes glinted in the whisper of moonlight that filtered through my living room windows, and I took a quick glance at the destruction around me. My books. My floor was littered with the fluttering pages of destroyed books. I didn’t ask what had happened to the two men in my bedroom. If Michael hadn’t finished them, I was going to.
I looked back at Michael, who had moved to the window and was peering through my blinds at something below. “You got here fast.”
He grunted, “Something told me I needed to be close by.”
I cocked my head. “Something? Or someone?”
He slid a glance to me, a dark eyebrow cocked upward. “Does it really matter?”
I sighed and shook my head, once more taking in the chaotic destruction of my apartment. “No, I guess it doesn’t. Not anymore.” I waved a hand at the mess. “I don’t suppose you can fairy godmother this shit and make it all go away?” I wasn’t just referring to the blood and mess and something in my face must have given away my thoughts because for a moment Michael’s eyes softened and he pulled out his phone. “I’ll see what I can do. But we need to go. The police will be on their way. You have everything?” When I nodded, he motioned with the weapon he was still holding to the hallway and bedrooms. “Is this Sybil’s handiwork?”
I shook my head. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I don’t think it was Sybil. I think they were goons sent by the Hildago Syndicate.” Michael frowned, a concerned look passing over his face and I asked. “You know them?”
He nodded, “Yes. My family has had dealings with them in the past. They’re a nasty bunch. How did you get caught up with them?”
I sighed. “It’s a long story. I’ll catch you up.”
Grabbing my bag I’d stashed in my coat closet, a jacket and slipped into a pair of Converse before I headed to the door but paused with my hand on the handle as something sticking out of the pile of papers on my entryway table caught my eye. A blank white business card.
Without thinking, I snatched it up and shoved it into a side pocket. Pigs would fly before I’d ever go back to the FBI after everything I’d seen and been through. But I’d be damned if I was going to let my sister, or anyone else, dictate my life choices anymore. Simon might not want me in his little secret spy club, but there was no way he could keep me out, either. I smirked, wondering what Simon would have said about tonight, and headed towards the elevators, leaving my bloody mess of an apartment behind just as I heard the sound of approaching sirens. I didn’t worry about Michael getting out of there, knowing that he was just as capable as Simon of getting out of squirrelly situations. How he planned to make the mess look less like a shoot house and more like a….I didn’t even know what. I couldn’t imagine what the cops, some who were probably my friends, would say when they saw the place. But those were problems for tomorrow Hannah. Tonight Hannah had bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that a murderous crime syndicate might have sent someone to assassinate her. And that her psychotic and sadistic sister, who was hell bent on killing her, had tried to warn her. "What kind of game are you playing, Sybil? “I muttered to myself as I opened the emergency exit door and descended the steps to the parking garage below.
It might have been my imagination and the stress of the night, but a silky voice whispered through the darkness of my thoughts. “You’ll see…”
CHAPTERNINE
Hannah
When I’d gotten into Michael’s waiting Lexus SUV, and I knew it was his by the blacked out and heavily tinted everything, Rue was waiting for me with a cup of coffee and a smile. I blinked in shock but took the cup from her, frowning at the lid and then back up at the beautiful hacker who was watching me.
“Thank you, but please forgive me if I ask you if this is poisoned or not.” Rue’s smile only widened, which had me lowering the cup to place it in a cup holder until I could verify its contents.
Rue tsked, “Cheri, unlike my stubborn male counterparts, I don't want to hold grudges.” Her eyes hardened. “What you did was cold, calculated and an absolute betrayal of our trust.” They softened just a bit. “But I understand why you did it. And I might have made the same choice.”
