Page 40 of Bullseye
No. I have to do this on my own. All I have to do is to gather the courage to do one quick sweep of the apartment like Avery did last night, and then I know I’ll be safe, at least for a moment. Then, I’ll stuff a bag with essentials, and get the hell out of here.
I hear Canada is nice this time of year…
Come on, Sen. Forcing myself off of the door, I move into the apartment, and walk automatically to the bathroom. Standing outside and holding my breath, I count silently…
One, two, three…
Pushing the door in, I exhale. It’s empty. It’s all empty. I check the closet next, but it’s clear, too. Okay, so if those assholes are coming to fuck with me, they haven’t arrived yet.
Moving faster than I knew I could move, I rush through the apartment, stuffing the one bag that will fit on my bike with only those things that are absolutely necessary.
Shit. A ride from Arizona north is going to kill my kidneys. Bikes just aren’t made for cross country—or intercountry—rides. Tossing the bag and my phone onto my bed, I take a run to the bath—
Ring!
Damn. Placing a hand to my racing heart, I glance at the phone on my bed. With my sheet-covered window, I am so incredibly exposed here… anyone could see me. Anyone could know that I’m home. Alone.
Ring!
Feeling like the girl in the horror movie who knows she shouldn’t answer the phone but is going to anyway, I walk toward my bed. Reaching out, I flip the phone face up so I can see the caller ID. It’s not Avery, it’s… Crap.
Grabbing the phone, I answer. “Hello? Johnny? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Seneca, sweetheart. But you’re not. I just had a visit.”
“No.” I drop down onto my bed and rest my head in my hand. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. They simply wanted me to call you and to tell you that the brick was a warning. That they know you’ve been trying to set them up as the murderers.”
“Theyarethe murderers. Was it the two of them?”
“Yes.”
Whew. I’m safe for a day, anyway. “Then, who threw the brick?”
“Some local punks they hired who were up for making a quick buck. Someone from a motorcycle gang—”
“The Unchained Dogs?”
“Possibly. Sounds right. Seneca, listen. Our friends. They’re pissed. They just got out, but they’ve already seen Ironclad and have his protection. They want you to stay put and let your brother be.”
“Let him rot in jail on a bogus murder charge? No way.”
“You held on for him to be up for probation and that was denied. You’ve appealed. What more can you do?”
“I don’t know. Hire more lawyers, I guess.”
“Seneca. You’ve run through your entire life savings.”
“I’ll ask my mother for money.”
“Will she give it to you?” he asks.
“Can she abandon her son?”
“She did once. Listen to me. They’ve already chased you from Long Island.”
“I left because they were getting out. You and I thought it was the right thing to do. Matt agreed.”
