I jump to my feet with a cry. Arms flailing, legs flying, handbag slamming against my side, I back up until my heels touch Kane’s ribs. “Please go away.”
A man – probably mid-thirties, with a slight stubble, and a red and black flannel shirt – stands at the top stair of the flight below us with his hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”
“Please leave.” Sniffling like a weak fool, I knuckle my tears away. “Please go away.”
“Let me help you. Then I’ll leave.”
“No. We don’t need your help.”
“I think you do, ma’am.” He nods toward my feet. “Your friend’s out cold, and you sure as shit can’t pick him up.”
“I’ll sit right here with him till he wakes up.” Folding my arms across my chest in a faux show of bravery, I lift my chin like the spoiled princess Kane accuses me of being. “I’d rather sit out here with him than accept your help. Leave, or I’ll call the cops.”
“The cops?” Moving up another step, our visitor lowers his hands and feigns casualness as convincingly as I do bravery. “You gonna call the po-po on a good samaritan?”
“There are no good samaritans on this side of town. There’s kill or be killed, and I’m done being victimized. Leave now.”
“Girlie, I’m telling you, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help, because you’re right, this area of town is fucked, and you’re making a bunch of noise in the stairwell.” Stepping close to the railing, he nods down through the gap.
I take the bait and step closer to the railing. Peeking down, I find a dozen crackheads sticking their heads out of apartment doors.
“I promise I’m not here to harm you. I just wanna help you get outta the hallway before they decide to come get your fancy purse.”
My shoulders droop with defeat when I think of Kane’s non-existent locks. “Maybe I should take him back to my place. What if someone tries to get into his apartment?”
“Set the alarms. It’ll be okay.”
“He doesn’t have alarms.”
Lifting his hands, the man steps closer until he’s within two feet of me and Kane. “You look pretty clever. I bet you can think something up.” Edging around me, he bends over Kane and brings him up to his feet. This man isn’t even close to Kane’s size, and though he’s not small, he isn’t packed with muscle the way Kane is. Yet, I watch him throw Kane into a fireman’s carry with ease. As the man turns to head up the stairs, I catch a glimpse of the Reaper, but more importantly, I see Kane’s gun. I lurch forward and snatch it out with a cry. I’ve never held a gun before in my life, but tonight seems to be a night of new experiences for me.
With shaking hands and zero clue how to use it, I wrap my hands around the handle and stretch my finger onto the trigger.
I point it right at the man’s back. “I don’t wanna hurt you, mister. I want to believe you’re here to help. But if you hurt him, I’ll shoot you in the gut and watch your blood run black.”
Surprised, he turns back with a lifted brow. His gaze flips between my hand and my eyes. Hitching Kane up securely, the man nods. “I won’t fuck you over. Just don’t shoot me in the back by accident.”
“I’m in control of the situation. You walk. I’ll follow.”
“You’re not in control of shit,” he chuckles. “Take your finger off the trigger before you shoot off a round. Guns 101, girlie. Not toys.”
“Shut up and move.”
Who am I?
I have a man at gunpoint.
Kane does this to me. He makes it so I’m willing to put aside everything I’ve ever worked for just to protect him.
He’s a damn criminal, but now, so am I.
My family is the law. I don’t know this dangerous and dark world that Kane is so entrenched in, and yet, I stand on the fourth floor of his shitty apartment building with a heavy gun in my hand and a willingness to shoot if this man makes the wrong move.
I’ve finally cracked.
This week is too much. Too big. Too scary.
And now it all ends in a stairwell when my savior is unconscious and a stranger thinks he can step in.