Page 209 of Fixation
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My heart drops. My world spins.
Cold sweat trickles down my spine as I dash to the hall. I lean over the railing, squinting my eyes and searching for shadows on the first floor of my home.
Looking for him.
There’s no one here.
But the crashing and thumping are relentless.
Whoever’s at Anderson’s place is hurting him. Or—Anderson could be giving them a run for their money.
What if it’s more than one person trying to kill him? He could be outnumbered.
They could have guns.
My face goes numb. My chin quivers.
The rest of my body has other plans. My body wants to fight.
Thanks to him. Anderson’s dragged me through hell and made me stronger for it. He’s taught me not to take anything lying down.
And that includes protecting him.
I rush into my studio, grabbing my blowtorch and chasing hammer. The tools that’d cause the most damage.
When they’re in my grip, I practically fly out of there.
Anderson has taken such good care of me over the last few days. I’m healed, effortlessly flying down the stairs. I cross my first floor and make it to the door in record time.
Only when I’m out do I slow down. I prowl silently toward his place, keeping the element of surprise on my side.
The floor is cool beneath my feet as I move toward his home.
The loud noises continue.
Everything is going to be okay, I promise myself.
It is. In a few hours, Anderson and I will be together after defeating the bad guys.
He’ll hug me tight. Let me straddle him on his couch. Strap me to the hospital bed in his basement.
An odd look from a neighbor doesn’t deter me. I have to help him.
Of course I wish I could call the cops for help. They’re much better suited and equipped to handle this situation.
Bam!
But they’d go through Anderson’s things.
The basement. The bolted hospital bed. The IV pole. His tools.
The chem lab in his attic.
They could change their minds about dropping the charges.
I’m at his doorstep.
