Mia.
Screams.
The breaking of glasses and shouts from downstairs intrudes my deep slumber. Cautiously, I get out of bed and grab my gun from the bedside drawer.
He didn't come to bed last night again.
His spot is empty and cold like it was when I slept.
Where the hell did he go?
The noises intensify and I am compelled to proceed to check. I might be sleeping while people are dying out there. Grabbing Rico's jacket from the couch, I drape it on my shoulders and zip it up. I hide the gun in the large pockets and quickly exit the room.
The noises are coming from the living room. Everyone is present, and the sight of Rico makes my steps halt on the stairs. Everything in the living room is either broken or carelessly thrown around.
Shards of glass are scattered everywhere, and I r
