Facing Reality

Chapter 8

    I sat up, screaming. The room around me was unfamiliar. I shoved myself away from the edge of the bed I had been in and curled up in a corner, shaking.

    "Riley?"

    My gaze snapped to the door where a man stood, cautiously coming toward me with his hands in front of him palms up. "L-Luke?" I murmured. Then everything came back, and my shoulders slumped. I let my head drop sideways against the wall and closed my eyes.

    He crawled into the corner with me, pulling me against his chest. "Nightmare?" It wasn't much of a question. I knew he already knew the answer.

    "I hate myself," I said quietly. "I can't go a day without living through what happened. I hate how scared I am all the time..."

    He stroked my hair gently, pressing a kiss against the crown of my head. "I know."

    And I knew he did. His wounds ran as deep as mine if not deeper. I couldn't imagine what he had been through until he told me himself, and I had a feeling that might not be for a while yet.

    I sat curled against him in that dark corner, listening to the steady beating of his heart.

    Abruptly, the sound of shattering glass cut through the air. We were both on our feet in an instant.

    "Window. Window," Luke hissed, gesturing toward the bedroom window. We crept to it only to find it locked.

    "We have to break it," I whispered. "There's no other way out."

    "Remind me never to lock my guest bedroom windows ever again," Luke muttered. He brought his shoulder back, and, on the count of three, slammed it into the window. He quickly cleared the leftover glass with his sleeve and boosted me through.

    Just as I hit the ground, the sound of the door breaking off its hinges rented the air.

    "Luke!" I shouted.

    He leapt through the window, hitting the ground with his back and rolling. He was on his feet in an instant, taking my hand and pulling me into a run.

    We were halfway across the yard when the gunshots started. Luke jerked me behind a tree, and we waited with baited breath until the shots stopped. As soon as silence surrounded us, he jerked me toward the house barely a few feet from us.

    More shots sounded. Then we were safe.

    Luke let out a strained chuckle, trying to ease the tension as he pulled me toward the basement window of the house.

    "Luke." My legs gave out, and I fell to the ground. The pain hit me like a frate train.

    He was kneeling beside me as soon as I hit the ground. His eyes searched my body, trying to find what was wrong. Then his hand was pressing against my side right above my hip. "Crap, they got you."

    Turning, he shoved at the basement window which surprisingly opened. He quickly dropped in and pulled me in with him. I groaned as he carefully placed me on the floor so he could closed the window after us.

    "Come on," he whispered, dragging me by the arms behind a pile of crates. I bit my lip against a cry of pain.

    When he had finally helped me settle down against one of the crate, he pulled off his shirt to reveal his undershirt. He ripped the shirt in three pieces, trying two together in a long string. Using the third piece, he pressed it against the bullet wound and used the string to tie it down. "It's not much, but it will have to do for now," he murmured to me softly.

    I nodded, letting out a long strained breath. "What is the plan?" I stammered.

    He sighed. "Lay low until they spread out from here, looking for us, then slip back out and find another safer place."

    I smiled weakly. "I know a guy. I think he would be willing to help. He's also got a history in the medical field..." My eyelids felt heavy, and I closed them for a moment.

    "Nope," Luke growled, patting my cheek. "Don't you dare keep your eyes closed even for a second."

    I opened them again and smirked. "You remember the other day down at the dock?" He nodded, and I continued. "There's a trawler boat- navy blue and white- that is anchored close by the dock where we were sitting. It's owned by a fisherman names Grey Thompson. He's the guy we want to go to."

    "Grey Thompson, huh?" He grinned. "I think I know exactly who you're talking about."