Page 91 of Arranged Addiction
“One of the firemen says the building was empty. They went in a few minutes before we showed up.”
“She’s gone?”
“Somewhere. I don’t know. But we’re looking.” He grabs me by the shoulders. “You have to stay strong.”
I feel sick. I want to vomit on his shoes. But one thing keeps me going.
Sheila’s still out there.
And suddenly, an old memory occurs to me. It’s hazy and distant, but I can still see my aunt sitting at her table, now surely burned to nothing, and tapping her knuckles to get my attention.Just listen, I know it’s boring, but it might save your life. If there’s ever a fire, you go out the back and into the alley. Turn left, not right, you hear? You go left and you try to make it to where the cars are parked. You run and you don’t stop. Do you hear me? Jump the fence and just go.
I grab at Declan’s wrist, tugging him back to the end of the block. “This way. I think I know where she is.”
He follows without arguing. I spot him gesturing at a few people in the crowd, and several figures fall in behind us. I’m guessing Whelan guards, but I don’t know and don’t care. I walk fast before it turns into a jog. I get around the corner and turn to where the narrow alley is between the yards in the back. It’s weed-choked and overgrown, but there’s only one way in.
If Aunt Sheila turned right, she’d probably be dead. There’s no way through that side.
But if she followed her own plan…
The path is narrow. Declan tries to stop me, but I slip in through the brambles before he can get a good grip. “Damn it, Casey,” he snarls, following close. “You can’t get yourself killed on a hunch.”
“She’s here, she’s got to be here, if she got out—” I come to a stumbling halt. The yards ahead are burning, and the smoke is thick above us, but through the haze, I spot them.
Two bodies.
I scream and lunge forward. One person’s on the ground, not moving. The other’s behind them, on their knees. I shove aside weeds and choking vines and throw myself at Aunt Sheila.
She catches me in her arms. She feels so thin and weak down there on the ground. Her clothes are singed and covered in ash and sweat. She smells like a campfire.
“I tried to get him out,” she says and hacks a cough. “I couldn’t just leave him here. I tried…” She trails off, staring down at the body at her feet.
“I know him,” Declan says, looking over my shoulder. “He was your guard.”
Aunt Sheila nods. I’m so relieved she’s alive it’s like a punch to the throat. I barely register the unmoving corpse at our feet. But he’s young, in his early twenties, and there’s blood all over the place.
“He attacked without warning.” Aunt Sheila leans against the knotty fence. “Didn’t say anything. Didn’t seem upset or angry. All calm and composed. He started shooting the boys outside and killed two of them. Jonathan came in through the front injured and angry. He shot back, but he was already hit. He dragged me to the back door, and he’s the only reason I’m still alive. That man followed, but Jonathan threw all my gas lines open, and as we got out the back door, he started shooting inside. I guess that started the fire and kept that man away from us. Jonathan collapsed when we got over the fence, and I’ve beentrying to drag him out, but he’s just so heavy. He saved my life and now…”
She trails off. The horror of the situation settles heavy. I hug her tight, thankful she’s still here and feeling a little guilty for that.
“I’ve got him now.” Declan stoops down and takes the body by the arms. “We’ll take care of him. You two get out of here. My men are waiting at the exit.”
“Come on.” I help Aunt Sheila away.
“How bad is it?” She looks back over her shoulder at the smoke. “It’s all gone, isn’t it?”
“You’re alive.” I hug her tight and keep moving. “That’s all that matters.”
Declan follows, leaving a smear of blood from the corpse in our wake.
Chapter 31
Declan
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Malone.” Jonathan’s mother is a thin woman with short hair and deeply red-lined eyes. She looks like she’s crumbling into herself as she tries to smile back.
“I appreciate you coming, Mr. Whelan. I know how busy you’ve been lately. We all know it’s been hard since your father passed, may God rest his soul.”
“Jonathan was a good man. His passing is terrible, but he died a hero. I know that’s thin comfort.”
