Page 143 of Every Broken Piece
If it were me, I would have done anything this scary man said but Carter doesn’t move.
“She owes us money.” Carter’s voice wavers, unsure and slightly terrified.
“She doesn’t owe us shit and I told you weeks ago we weren’t collecting. You went against direct orders, Carter. You know what that means.”
Whoisthis man? And why is he here?
“I did this for the family,” Carter says, his tone now wheedling. “It’s my job to collect—”
“Enough!”
I jump. Carter jumps. I flinch because what if his trigger finger is jumpy too?
The man plucks the gun from Carter’s hand like it's a toy and chucks it across the room. It skitters across the unfinished floors until it circles to a slow revolving stop, like a macabre version of spin the bottle.
The scary man’s gaze flickers to me. He lowers himself to his haunches, his tattooed hands loose between his knees. “Tess James?”
I nod slowly; my mouth so dry I couldn’t speak if I wanted to.
A knife appears in his hand. Startled, I rear back with a squeak of terror. “Relax, little one. I’m going to cut you loose then I want you to head out that door.” He tips his head toward the direction of the door. “Keep walking. Don’t look back no matter what you hear. Nod if you understand me.”
I nod.
He pins me with a dark glare and his voice turns even darker. “Don’t look back.”
I nod again.
He slices through my restraints then holds his hands out. I take them and he gently pulls me up, continues to hold me steady until the blood returns to my legs.
He lifts his chin. “Go.”
The first step is the hardest. I still don’t trust any of these men at my back and the spot between my shoulder blades tingles in fear of a bullet or a knife. I don’t know which would be worse.
I keep walking. I don’t look back.
Even when I reach the door I don’t look back.
I move forward one step at a time, my legs shaking, my vision blurring.
Don’t look back.
Don’t look.
I keep my eyes on my feet as I exit the house.
“Tess!”
My head jerks up. From the other side of the street someone’s running toward me. I stop, scared that I’ve stepped into a worse situation. But I can’t go back so I keep going forward because forward is the only way to go.
Then I see him. His arms pumping, his legs pistoning.
“Tess!”
With a cry I start running and when I’m within a few feet I launch myself at him, knowing he’ll catch me.
We collide in the best of ways. My arms around his neck. My legs around his waist. His hands clutch me to him as I bury my face in that warm spot between his shoulder and neck. He falls to his knees, taking me with him.
“I’ve got you.” His voice is rough. “I’ve got you.”
