Page 172 of Callan

My neighbor, her weird visitors, Callan’s way, the men who were supposed to watch me.

Where are they?

Where the fuck are they?

Where?

None of the men trying to block my exit seem to have this weird idea in their heads that they need to protect me.No way, these are his men.

And now I wish I had insisted on finding out what Callan’s secrets were all about.

What made it so dangerous to be with him?

Had I known more about that, I wouldn’t have been here tonight. And perhaps I wouldn’t have stepped into this trap. I would’ve stayed away from this area.

What am I supposed to do?

Frantically, I look up the street.

The first building with a few lit windows and possibly someone willing to call the police to save my butt is a block away from here.

And even if I made it there, the entrance would probably be locked, and these people would grab me before I had the chance to scream for help.

Cryptic words move between the men in front of me before they charge at me.One clasps my shoulder, the other aiming for my head as I pivot at the last moment to fend them off and slip past them.

The men behind me quickly close the distance between us, their heavy steps more menacing by the moment.

I don’t scream.

Strangely, for once, I don’t panic or waste my energy with useless calls for help.

I use my light frame to my advantage, swirling around and moving away, yanking my shoulder out of the man’s grip, and slipping my head out of my beanie.

They both growl with frustration before swearing at me while the two men in the back bark at them.

“Fucking piece of shit,” one of them blurts behind me, sprinting after me while I run for my life.

His hand lands on the back of my neck, and terror barrels through me.

“Freeze, you little cunt,” he says, struggling to stop me. “Put a bullet in her legs,” he suggests to someone else, and that’s when I begin to scream.

If there is anything I know when it comes to danger, it’s that I need to pull away from it as fast as I can.

No matter how much they plead with me or threaten me, I won’t stay or comply or listen.

Sadly, the distance doesn’t work to my advantage, and despite screaming and possibly being seen as I’m being attacked by these four men, no one comes to my help.

“Leave me alone,” I push out, zig-zagging so they can’t catch me.

“She’s much faster than I thought,” one of them grumps behind me, panting.

“She’s a fucking dick,” the other man replies before I zip across the street, almost falling and, luckily, slipping by an oncoming car.

“Don’t let her get away,” another voice says as they fight their way around the slow-moving car, one of them plopping his fist into the hood.

Unaware of the danger, the driver pulls the car to a stop, walks out, and argues with them before staring at the barrel of a gun.

He quickly vanishes inside and makes himself scarce, veering his ride away as if chased away by death.

---