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Authors: Michaela Adams
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house, I looked up towards the large picture windows of the second floor. I remember looking up and sometimes seeing dad standing there with either some papers or his phone in his hand. He’d smile and wave at me as I ran by.
But looking up, the window was empty. No one stood there to watch over me and smile. I refused to let my heart ache over this loss. Instead, I let it only fuel my thirst for retribution.
So focused was I on channeling my emotional turmoil that I barely heard the rumble of an engine from my right. I turned to look just as four gunshots were fired.
I had no time to scream as the bullets echoed in the open field of my home. I immediately threw myself onto the ground, my heart beating against the grass. I knew I should try to crawl towards cover but cold clammy fear kept me glued to the ground.
I did peek up though to see an arm retreat back into the window of a van as it skidded off.
“Sophia!”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Liam running around the corner of the house. His eyes quickly scanned me for blood. Before I could tell him I was alright, he was kneeling beside me, lifting me into his arms with an easy strength that soothed my erratic pulse.
Looking up, I saw his brow creased as he carefully looked over me. It was disconcerting to have him hold me so tightly, so securely while he worried over me. Was this the demon who would eat and devour my soul?
Liam raised his head and looked down the field towards where the van had shot off. I could feel his muscles tighten in need to chase after them. Instead, I tried to sit up, distracting him from his need to give chase.
With a strong, steady arm, he helped me up into a seated position. I felt my breath return to a more normal pace. The shock of hearing bullets again was enough to send my mind reeling but to also see the gun aimed directly at me…I honestly felt as if I had been knocked on my head, sending me into a dizzying spell of fear and nausea.
“You’re not hurt,” Liam said calmly, keeping his arm firmly around my shoulders, as if not completely convinced I could sit on my own yet. “No blood, no bullet holes. At least, not in you. Your house on the other hand.” A dry twinkle lit up his eyes.
To hear him so matter-of-factly state my wholeness gave me an enormous amount of reassurance. It seemed as if his recognition of my uninjured body made it real. I was safe. I was okay. But then to hear him also make a sly joke about my house and the bullets, it nearly undid me.
I snorted. I giggled. I shook my head, feeling like an insane person. Tears sprang up as I laughed.
Wiping against my eyes, I said, “I’m not crying.” I giggled again.
“No, of course not,” Liam said. “You must have knocked a pipe loose in your eye as you fell.” I huffed another laugh as he helped me up onto my feet.
Even after I was up, Liam kept an arm around me. Physically, I was fine and could stand on my own. But it felt so good to have his strength around me, keeping me upright and tall.
Liam looked again towards the direction the van took off. “Well, if we had any doubts about someone wanting to murder you,” he said quietly, almost to himself. He squinted. “They must’ve thought you fell from the shots. They certainly didn’t stick around to check otherwise. But I think they—”
I shook my head and put a hand on Liam’s chest, wanting to go back in to the safety of the house.
“I recognize the van,” I said, my voice a little husky from the adrenaline that was still running through me. “I think I know who that was.”
Chapter Nine
“Blue Boy Vans?” Liam said, confused.
I nodded, taking a sip of my tea. We were in the office again. This was where I felt the most comfortable in the house. Liam had brought up a cup of hot tea for me as I gathered myself.
“A
But looking up, the window was empty. No one stood there to watch over me and smile. I refused to let my heart ache over this loss. Instead, I let it only fuel my thirst for retribution.
So focused was I on channeling my emotional turmoil that I barely heard the rumble of an engine from my right. I turned to look just as four gunshots were fired.
I had no time to scream as the bullets echoed in the open field of my home. I immediately threw myself onto the ground, my heart beating against the grass. I knew I should try to crawl towards cover but cold clammy fear kept me glued to the ground.
I did peek up though to see an arm retreat back into the window of a van as it skidded off.
“Sophia!”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Liam running around the corner of the house. His eyes quickly scanned me for blood. Before I could tell him I was alright, he was kneeling beside me, lifting me into his arms with an easy strength that soothed my erratic pulse.
Looking up, I saw his brow creased as he carefully looked over me. It was disconcerting to have him hold me so tightly, so securely while he worried over me. Was this the demon who would eat and devour my soul?
Liam raised his head and looked down the field towards where the van had shot off. I could feel his muscles tighten in need to chase after them. Instead, I tried to sit up, distracting him from his need to give chase.
With a strong, steady arm, he helped me up into a seated position. I felt my breath return to a more normal pace. The shock of hearing bullets again was enough to send my mind reeling but to also see the gun aimed directly at me…I honestly felt as if I had been knocked on my head, sending me into a dizzying spell of fear and nausea.
“You’re not hurt,” Liam said calmly, keeping his arm firmly around my shoulders, as if not completely convinced I could sit on my own yet. “No blood, no bullet holes. At least, not in you. Your house on the other hand.” A dry twinkle lit up his eyes.
To hear him so matter-of-factly state my wholeness gave me an enormous amount of reassurance. It seemed as if his recognition of my uninjured body made it real. I was safe. I was okay. But then to hear him also make a sly joke about my house and the bullets, it nearly undid me.
I snorted. I giggled. I shook my head, feeling like an insane person. Tears sprang up as I laughed.
Wiping against my eyes, I said, “I’m not crying.” I giggled again.
“No, of course not,” Liam said. “You must have knocked a pipe loose in your eye as you fell.” I huffed another laugh as he helped me up onto my feet.
Even after I was up, Liam kept an arm around me. Physically, I was fine and could stand on my own. But it felt so good to have his strength around me, keeping me upright and tall.
Liam looked again towards the direction the van took off. “Well, if we had any doubts about someone wanting to murder you,” he said quietly, almost to himself. He squinted. “They must’ve thought you fell from the shots. They certainly didn’t stick around to check otherwise. But I think they—”
I shook my head and put a hand on Liam’s chest, wanting to go back in to the safety of the house.
“I recognize the van,” I said, my voice a little husky from the adrenaline that was still running through me. “I think I know who that was.”
Chapter Nine
“Blue Boy Vans?” Liam said, confused.
I nodded, taking a sip of my tea. We were in the office again. This was where I felt the most comfortable in the house. Liam had brought up a cup of hot tea for me as I gathered myself.
“A
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