Page 11 of Pretend
I look at my broken window and then to the floor, trying to wrap my head around our situation. Jack investigates to see if anyone is standing outside our third-floor apartment building, but...nothing. There’s no way someone could be on our patio without entering our home first. There are no stairs and no ladder to our deck.
“Did someone throw something at our window?” Jack stands up and throws on his jeans. He runs a hand through his red hair, and I search for my clothes, dressing myself once again.
“I don’t know…” I wipe my tears away and search for any object thrown inside our home, looking through the broken glass, but nothing.
Not a brick? A rock?
Then I spot a hole in the wall. My eyebrows arch, and I walk fast towards it, eyeing the destruction I’m most likely going to have to pay for someone to fucking fix because Jack will do a botch job if I let him.
I get closer, and my eyes circle.
“It’s a gunshot.”
But why didn’t we hear it ring loud? Why didn’t we hear a loud pop, like if it was fireworks on the Fourth of July during the summer?
It was quiet...silenced.
Whoever is held responsible for this gunshot has a silencer on their weapon.
“We have to move. Let’s get out of the bedroom now.” The thoughts sink into me, ringing alarm bells that this was not an accident.
“Someone shot at us?!” Jack shrieks, looking at the hole in the wall. He hovers over me shirtless, his lean frame on display in the moonlight.
Now that he’s in close proximity, I notice he’s still bleeding, barely. It looks like a scratch, his flesh grazed.
I decide to investigate further, digging my small fingers into the hole, and that’s when I feel the culprit.
I pull out a fired bullet, my fingers shaking, unable to hold still. I twist in my palm.
“Who would do this?” I ask Jack before I take off into my living room. I grab my cell phone that was hooked, charging into the wall, and dial 911.
Jack hadn’t always been this way with me, but lately, he was struggling and had been going out more with his friends, and God knows what he’s up to with them that he’s been coming home with liquor stained on his body.
Did he piss someone off?
I wanted to question him, but I didn’t feel the need to start an argument at two in the morning.
“Fuck if I know babe.” He rubs my shoulders before running his hands across his own elbows for comfort.
I relay our situation to the 911 operator and put my cell phone onto my kitchen counter, sighing frustrated. I run my hands through my long black curls, and the need for a hair tie screams at me. I rub my temples, massaging the bizarre jitters from minutes ago.
I just wanted to sleep before I was in front of Ravenmore’s desk, staring into cold, vibrant green eyes…my mother’s newest endeavor.
I always fall asleep early so I can at least get a minimum of six hours before bed. It’s the military in me. My body has grown accustomed to early morning hours and falling asleep as soon as the sun vanishes.
“Call your dad too…Admiral Ravenmore, right? He’ll know what to do.” He tells me before he sits on the living room couch and texts away at his phone. Even with his girlfriend being in the military, Jack is clueless when it comes to titles, ranks, and how it works.
“It doesn’t work like that. He’s not a police officer.”
My mother has been with her new husband for years now, but I refuse to acknowledge him as a father figure. I already have a dad.
“What about your mother? You can talk to her, right? I’m going to get some sleep before I have to go job hunting in the morning.” Jack shuts off his phone and goes to the kitchen. He opens the first-aid kit and cuts open a broad bandage.
Oh, good. He can wake me up from my peaceful slumber and make me go back to sleep now that I’m up with adrenaline and violation.
“Okay,” I give in, not wanting to argue with him. “And Ravenmore is not my dad. Please don’t call him that. He’s just Henry to me, and I won’t worry my mother with this.” I reach for my coffee and start making a fresh pot. It looks like I won’t be getting any sleep, so I might as well stay up.
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