Page 95 of Protected from Malice
The first burst of alarm explodes in my chest.
Something’s not right.
“You know…” I take a few steps away from her. “I’ve got a lot more cleaning to do. So—” I wave the envelope for emphasis. “Thanks so much for dropping this off. But I should probably get back to work.”
“Or maybe…” Gayla reaches behind her. “You don’t.”
“What—”
She pulls out a gun.
Aims it at my chest.
It’s so close I can see the tiny etching along the barrel and the scratches on the handle.
“Gayla,” I gasp. “What are you doing?”
Her features contort with anger. “What I should have donemonthsago.”
I take an instinctive step away from her, and she lunges forward, smacking my temple with the gun.
Pain flares; hot and blinding. My eyes water. My head spins.
“Don’t fucking move,” she snaps. “This isn’t where I want to shoot you.”
What?
Nothing makes sense.
Why is my neighbor here? With a gun? And why does she want to shoot me?
“Gayla,” I start again, “Please. I don’t understand. Why are you?—”
“Because you ruined everything!” Her voice rises to a near shout. “It’s all your fault! And now I have to fix things!”
My heart is pounding so hard I think it might actually explode from fear.
I thought the break-in was scary. But this? A gun pointed at my chest held by a woman who looks on the far side of unhinged?
This is bad.
Very, very bad.
“Please. Will you just explain?” I ask. “Maybe I can help.”
Panic threatens to take over. My legs feel like jelly. Unforgiving bands of iron wrap around my chest. My breath comes in shallow, uneven bursts.
“Explain?” Gayla barks out a harsh laugh. And oh,crap. Shereallylooks unbalanced now. “You want me toexplain?”
“Yes. Please.”
The pain in my head makes it hard to think. But there’s a niggling reminder somewhere. A memory that, if I can retrieve it, might help.
“Fine.” She jabs the gun against my right breast. “Sit on the couch. Don’t even think about going for the phone. Or I’ll kill you right here and screw the mess it makes.”
The mess?
Oh, crap.
