Whispers in the Dark - Maya Banks [6]
And then one night their home had been broken into despite their state-of-the-art security system. Their parents had been gunned down, and the only reason Shea and Grace had escaped capture was because of the safe room their father had meticulously constructed, complete with an escape route that led into the dense woods surrounding their house.
Their father had shoved them into the safe room, set the locks, and the two girls stood there in frozen horror as they listened to their parents being murdered just feet away.
Their parents hadn’t been paranoid. They’d known the very real danger their daughters faced. Maybe if Shea and Grace had taken their fears more seriously, their mom and dad would be alive today.
Her fists clenched in rage and she slowed to a walk, cursing the fact that she’d gone much farther than usual. She turned in a half circle and began to walk back the way she came.
Halfway back to the tiny duplex she rented, she noticed a dark sedan with tinted windows parked on the opposite side of the street. It hadn’t been there before. She would have noted it. Nor did it belong to the owner of the house.
She was meticulous in her recon. She knew every vehicle for every house in an eight-block radius. She’d even memorized license plate numbers. She glanced casually over, never letting her gaze stop its progress. Quickly committing the plate to memory, she picked up her pace just a bit.
At the end of the block, she turned right instead of continuing straight ahead toward her street. She swung her arms, rotating as if working the kinks out, like she hadn’t a care in the world.
But she glanced back to see the vehicle slide from its parking space, execute a quick U-turn and then crawl down the street in the direction she’d gone.
Shea held her breath and forced herself to remain calm and not bolt. Not yet. She needed a few more feet before she’d have a few moments where she wouldn’t be spotted.
As soon as she was out of view, she put on the speed and ran through the yard and in between two houses. Everyone on the damn street had privacy fences, which made them a bitch to get over.
She flew over the top and landed in a heap on the ground on the other side. She picked herself up, fled toward the back of the lot and pulled herself over the top of the fence again.
She hoped the car turned down the street she’d taken and hadn’t headed directly toward her house. She needed just a few minutes to get home, grab the bag she always kept packed, and then she’d get the hell out.
Through it all, she kept her mind tightly shielded so that her sister wouldn’t sense her fear and agitation. The last thing she wanted was Grace to come out of hiding because she worried that Shea was in danger.
And she would. She’d do anything if she thought it would keep Shea safe. Just as Shea would do for Grace. If Shea allowed herself to get caught, Grace would be a sitting duck.
Well, fuck that.
She wasn’t going down without one hell of a fight.
By the time she reached her backyard, she was winded and sucking some pretty heavy air. Instead of going balls to the wall inside her house, she took stock of the surroundings, listened for the sound of a vehicle and then quietly crept to her back door.
The very last thing she needed was to run headlong into a bad situation.
She cracked the door open and listened intently for any sound coming from within. As she stepped inside, she immediately looked toward the front picture window, which gave her an unimpeded view of the street.
She breathed in a sigh of relief and bolted into action. She ran for her bedroom, took the already packed bag out of the closet and then went for the handgun in her nightstand drawer.
She popped the clip in, thumbed the safety and then jammed it into her shorts. Wasting not a single glance at the things she was leaving behind, she hustled to the front door.
Her car was parked as close to the house as possible, but not so close that she couldn’t execute a sharp turn and drive away without