I awoke to the sound of smashing glass.
I leapt out of bed and threw on my robe. Footsteps raced past my door and pounded down the stairs. Blake. I ran after him and came to a halt halfway down. Several youths stood in the living room. They'd climbed in through the window they'd broken. I counted nine including Skull. He stood at the front, flanked by his gang, a switchblade in hand. They were all armed with knives or clubs, but thankfully no guns.
Blake stood on the bottom step dressed in T-shirt and jeans, his hands out at his sides like a cowboy ready to draw. But he was unarmed.
"Get back upstairs," he said quietly.
My bag was in the kitchen, my phone with it. There was a phone handset upstairs in the hall. Maybe I should try to get to it.
"Stay where you are," Skull snarled. "Whe
