Better Together by Pat Cronin

Author:Pat Cronin [Cronin, Pat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC
Published: 2014-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

THE BLAST DEAFENED Mac. Glass broke all around her. Mac reflexively hit the ground and covered her head. She thought she heard a couple of explosions but couldn’t be sure. It all happened in a matter of seconds, and once she realized the noise stopped, she immediately searched for Jace.

“Jace! You okay? Where are you?”

“I’m over here,” Jace called from the entrance to the hallway, well away from the shards of glass that littered the floor. “Holy shit. I can’t believe it happened again.” He huddled on his haunches, holding his knees tight. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Mac said and made her way to him. Once assured that Jace was uninjured, she wheeled around to survey the damage. Three of five windows in the front of the building were shattered, and the window blinds hung loose or were completely destroyed. She couldn’t comprehend what happened. Was it an explosion somewhere on the street? Natural gas or something?

She crunched across the debris and peeked outside. No other buildings were damaged. Several shop owners and a couple of people she recognized as living in the apartment building across the street were gathered around, all staring at the destruction. Mac stood there in a daze until Jace came to her side.

“You got blood all over you.” His face paled and his voice wavered.

Mac didn’t feel hurt, but his expression made her find a seat without glass on it and sit down. “What happened?”

“You never been shot at before, have you?” Jace asked. “That was one of those automatic guns, maybe an AK or something. Must’ve fired a dozen rounds or so. I did see a black car, but it went by too fast to tell who was in it.”

“Shots? Seriously? Someone shot at us?”

Jace nodded and took off his shirt and pressed it against Mac’s neck. “You’re bleeding a lot. We gotta get you help.”

She took the shirt from him. “Go call 9-1-1.”

“I just did.” Fred Smith, who owned the apartment building across the street, came running in, nearly sliding to a stop in front of Mac. His large belly popped out of the too-small T-shirt he wore. He was soaked in sweat. “I couldn’t get a license number, but I’m sure I know the little shit who drove that car.” Fred’s breath came in heavy gulps and he mopped sweat from his brow with a dark-colored hanky.

“Thanks, Fred. You better sit down before you have a stroke.”

He sat heavily next to Mac, his face creased with worry. “I knew this would happen eventually. You’re doing good work here.”

“I guess so. Are you sure you know who it was?”

Fred grimaced. “Pretty sure it was that Leroy kid lives down on Main Street. Or maybe it’s Fifth Street. I don’t remember. I’ll tell the cops though. Not gonna let those little bastards get away with shooting up our neighborhood.”

Mac patted him on the leg. “Thanks.”

Blaring sirens and squealing tires announced the arrival of the police. Pepper came through the door first and stopped at Mac’s side.

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