Read Online Gunning For Angels (Fallen Angels Book 1) by C. Mack Lewis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. Mack Lewis
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isn’t here. Come back tomorrow.”
Footsteps stormed down the walk. A car door slammed. Enid cautiously peeked out the blinds. A sports car sat in the street. The flare of a match momentarily illuminated the thick scowling face of the man in the driver’s seat. The glow of a cigarette hovered. After a moment, he gunned the engine and sped up over the curb and toward the front door.
Enid’s scream was lost in the squeal of brakes. The car stopped three feet from the front door, its headlights harshly illuminating the tiny apartment.
Enid ran to the kitchen and grabbed the bars across the windows, but they didn’t budge. Her only way out was blocked. The roar of the engine was deafening and Enid heard him shouting about…
Pissing in my skull?
Enid covered her ears, terrified.
The baby wailed. Enid gasped, realizing that she left Faith behind. Trembling, Enid got on all fours and crawled into the living room. Making her way to the crib, she grabbed Faith and crawled behind the sofa.
The man pounded on the door. “I know you’re in there, Jeni! If that’s your new girlfriend – I’m going to kill you, kill her and then I’m going to kill myself!”
Enid reached over the couch and grabbed the cell phone that Jeni had left her.
The sound of breaking glass reverberated through the tiny room, followed by scraping and thudding. Enid’s head shot up over the couch. A baseball bat was knocking out jagged shards of glass, which was all that remained of the window. A thick, hairy hand reached in and tore down the twisted blinds.
Certain she was going to die unless she did somethin g , Enid hid the baby behind the sofa, grabbed the Glock and, with a primal scream, barreled toward the front door. She flung the door open and was blinded by the headlights of his car. She saw a blur of boots flailing in the air. Enid went back in and, hands shaking violently, she pointed the gun at the man’s head.
“Stop!” Enid shrieked, tears running down her face.
The man’s eyes went from crazy to zero. Balancing himself in the window, he dropped the bat. “Hold up, little girl!”
“I’m the babysitter! I told you – I’m the babysitter!” Enid screamed, tears running down her face.
“Take it easy. ”
Sirens screamed up the street. Through the glare of headlights, Enid could see a knot of neighbors. A police car screeched to a stop, lights flashing.
Enid’s hand with the gun dropped to her side.
Cursing, the man wriggled backwards, trying to escape.
Enid darted into the kitchen. She opened the freezer and shoved the gun inside a half-eaten box of ice cream. She ran into the living room as a young Hispanic cop was making his way in.
“Police! Drop your weapon!”
Enid’s hands flew up. “I’m the babysitter!”
The policeman’s eyes seemed to be everywhere at once. Gun leveled at Enid, his eyes found the wailing baby hidden behind the couch. “Who else is here?” He demanded.
“Just me.”
“She tried to kill me! That bitch had a gun to my head!” The angry man shouted from the front yard where he lay facedown as another cop snapped on cuffs.
The policeman shot Enid a suspicious look.
“I’m the babysitter,” Enid said, trying to look innocent.
“Stand there,” the policeman shoved her to the wall, patting her down. “The man said you had a gun,” The policeman persisted.
“Nah-uh. Not me. ”
“If you have a gun on the premises, you need to tell me,” the police officer said.
Bursting into tears, she wailed, “I’m the babysitter!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Promises and piecrust are made to be broken.
– Jonathan Swift
Jack walked into Mid-First Bank on Central Avenue. A skinny bank teller with big hair and a name tag reading ‘Kelly’ greeted him. “Welcome to Mid-First Bank, sir. How can I help you?”
Jack pulled the bundle of cash that Eve had given him out of a rolled-up newspaper and placed it on the counter. “I’d like to make a
Footsteps stormed down the walk. A car door slammed. Enid cautiously peeked out the blinds. A sports car sat in the street. The flare of a match momentarily illuminated the thick scowling face of the man in the driver’s seat. The glow of a cigarette hovered. After a moment, he gunned the engine and sped up over the curb and toward the front door.
Enid’s scream was lost in the squeal of brakes. The car stopped three feet from the front door, its headlights harshly illuminating the tiny apartment.
Enid ran to the kitchen and grabbed the bars across the windows, but they didn’t budge. Her only way out was blocked. The roar of the engine was deafening and Enid heard him shouting about…
Pissing in my skull?
Enid covered her ears, terrified.
The baby wailed. Enid gasped, realizing that she left Faith behind. Trembling, Enid got on all fours and crawled into the living room. Making her way to the crib, she grabbed Faith and crawled behind the sofa.
The man pounded on the door. “I know you’re in there, Jeni! If that’s your new girlfriend – I’m going to kill you, kill her and then I’m going to kill myself!”
Enid reached over the couch and grabbed the cell phone that Jeni had left her.
The sound of breaking glass reverberated through the tiny room, followed by scraping and thudding. Enid’s head shot up over the couch. A baseball bat was knocking out jagged shards of glass, which was all that remained of the window. A thick, hairy hand reached in and tore down the twisted blinds.
Certain she was going to die unless she did somethin g , Enid hid the baby behind the sofa, grabbed the Glock and, with a primal scream, barreled toward the front door. She flung the door open and was blinded by the headlights of his car. She saw a blur of boots flailing in the air. Enid went back in and, hands shaking violently, she pointed the gun at the man’s head.
“Stop!” Enid shrieked, tears running down her face.
The man’s eyes went from crazy to zero. Balancing himself in the window, he dropped the bat. “Hold up, little girl!”
“I’m the babysitter! I told you – I’m the babysitter!” Enid screamed, tears running down her face.
“Take it easy. ”
Sirens screamed up the street. Through the glare of headlights, Enid could see a knot of neighbors. A police car screeched to a stop, lights flashing.
Enid’s hand with the gun dropped to her side.
Cursing, the man wriggled backwards, trying to escape.
Enid darted into the kitchen. She opened the freezer and shoved the gun inside a half-eaten box of ice cream. She ran into the living room as a young Hispanic cop was making his way in.
“Police! Drop your weapon!”
Enid’s hands flew up. “I’m the babysitter!”
The policeman’s eyes seemed to be everywhere at once. Gun leveled at Enid, his eyes found the wailing baby hidden behind the couch. “Who else is here?” He demanded.
“Just me.”
“She tried to kill me! That bitch had a gun to my head!” The angry man shouted from the front yard where he lay facedown as another cop snapped on cuffs.
The policeman shot Enid a suspicious look.
“I’m the babysitter,” Enid said, trying to look innocent.
“Stand there,” the policeman shoved her to the wall, patting her down. “The man said you had a gun,” The policeman persisted.
“Nah-uh. Not me. ”
“If you have a gun on the premises, you need to tell me,” the police officer said.
Bursting into tears, she wailed, “I’m the babysitter!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Promises and piecrust are made to be broken.
– Jonathan Swift
Jack walked into Mid-First Bank on Central Avenue. A skinny bank teller with big hair and a name tag reading ‘Kelly’ greeted him. “Welcome to Mid-First Bank, sir. How can I help you?”
Jack pulled the bundle of cash that Eve had given him out of a rolled-up newspaper and placed it on the counter. “I’d like to make a
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