Page 60 of Hiss and Make Up
“What was that?”
She’d forgotten about the second guy.
She pressed the camera icon to snap a photo of this guy, but something caught her eye.
His shoes. The only thing she could see around the corner. Gray shoes with green stripes.
“Oh, no.”
She nudged his leg with her toe.Please be alive, please be alive. He didn’t move.
“What the hell?”
The second guy stood in the kitchen entrance, and she held up her saucepan with both hands. The guy took one look at her and furrowed his brow.
“You must be Sierra.”
She blinked hard at the guy, still holding her saucepan at shoulder-level. He was about her height and kind of scrappy, but she was pretty sure she could take him out if she had to.
“How do you know my name?”
He held his hands up to show her he wasn’t a threat and pointed at her head. “Cute face.”
14
When Marc’s eyes opened, Sierra took her first breath since recognizing those shoes. He was alive. She hadn’t killed him.
Freddy squatted and put a hand on Marc’s chest. “Stay there, man. Let’s make sure you’re all right first.” Freddy held up a finger and made Marc track it with his eyes.
Sierra let out another breath of relief, while Freddy helped him sit up and rest his back against the island.
“What the hell happened?” Marc squeezed his eyes shut, confused and in pain from the look of that lump near his right temple. “What’s she doing here? Did you call her?”
Freddy shook his head and looked at Sierra.
“You probably have a concussion,” she said. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
His hand went up to touch the side of his head. He looked around the room and caught sight of the saucepan on the floor nearby. “You hit me!”
Sierra winced and took a closer look at his head. “That looks really bad. Does Denise have Band-Aids?”
He pulled his head away, while Freddy chuckled. Marc grimaced and shut his eyes against the pain of movement. “Are you serious? We’re way past Band-Aids. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Sierra held up the saucepan. “I thought you were our psycho.”
He grabbed a nearby barstool for leverage. Freddy put a hand under Marc’s arm to help him to his feet. He wobbled a little, and Freddy insisted he sit on the stool.
“I only see one psycho here, and it isn’t me.”
Ouch. That stung. But she had to admit, her plan had gone tragically wrong.
But how could she have seenthatcoming? What were they doing there anyway?
Marc grabbed the pot from Sierra’s hand and flipped it over, examining it. “I guess I should be grateful you didn’t grab the cast iron.”
Freddy took it from him and placed it on the counter, out of both their reaches. “Let’s take this away, shall we?”
Sierra frowned at him. “I still don’t know who you are.”
