Fallen Crest Forever
Page 24

Glass shattered.
Thump!
Then complete silence.
I jerked upright in bed. Mason sat up with me, and I looked at the clock to see it was around four in the morning. He slid out of bed without a sound and reached for his phone. He handed it over, and as he did, we heard another sound. It was like someone shuffling, then another thump.
“Fuck.”
My eyes found Mason’s. That word was whispered, but we both heard it, and it hadn’t come from either of us. Someone else was in the house.
He mouthed, “Nine-one-one.”
I nodded, lifted the phone with trembling hands, and expelled a silent breath. I had to close my eyes for a second, just to steady myself. When I opened them, Mason was at the door. I reached out for him. My heart was pounding. I didn’t want him to go, but I couldn’t stop him, not unless I made sounds. And I couldn’t—then the intruder would know we’d heard him.
As Mason slipped out the door, tiptoeing down the hallway, I moved to the edge of the bed and stepped into the closet. I shut the door and dialed the numbers.
My heart was almost deafening, and I barely heard the operator answer my call.
“What is your emergency?”
I whispered, “Someone broke into our house.”
“Where are you?”
I gave her the address, my name, and Mason’s name. I told her everything I knew. I didn’t know if Nate was home. I didn’t know if Logan and Taylor were here. She told me to stay on the phone and stay in the closet.
That was when I hung up.
I wasn’t leaving Mason alone. I silenced the phone and put it in my pocket. Mason had held something in his hand when he left. I didn’t know if it was a weapon, but I suddenly wished I’d agreed to take gun safety class when Logan suggested it. I didn’t like guns.
My thoughts were changing.
My hands shook. I was sweating, but so cold at the same time. Fear choked me, but the thought of never seeing Mason again was worse. It propelled me forward until I saw him poised by the front closet. It was close to the stairs, and as I heard a third thump from upstairs, I realized it was the closest place he could stand without being seen.
I edged out into the living room, but Mason saw me. He motioned for me to go back.
Part of me stopped thinking now. Part of me slipped away, no longer standing in that room with him. I was back in the closet, the phone in my hands, the door locked shut. I was safe, and the cops were coming to take the bad guy away.
That wasn’t what was really going on, though.
I watched myself as Mason continued to try to get me to go back.
I kept shaking my head. I wouldn’t go.
A fourth thump above us. Footsteps.
Someone left a room, moving into another.
“Shit.”
A second whisper from someone I didn’t know.
My knees began to shake, but they weren’t making noise. Thank goodness. I couldn’t get them to stop. The girl they helped support was frozen in place.
She couldn’t do anything.
Her eyes moved upwards.
The person upstairs was moving again. Whoever it was wasn’t being as quiet anymore.
Drawers opened.
Things dropped to the floor.
A door clicked shut, and a different one opened.
A light was flicked on now, then off right away.
Someone was in the bathroom.
They moved back into the hallway.
I could see the thoughts whirling in the girl’s head as I watched myself. Her forehead wrinkled, and she bit her lip. She was biting too hard, she drew blood. She never noticed.
I watched all this, but I couldn’t tell her (myself) to stop.
She’d stopped listening to herself long ago.
The person moved in one bedroom, then the other. Only Logan and Nate had rooms up there. The person walked by the bathroom. The only other door was a closet.
The footsteps continued.
They didn’t stop at the closet.
They were coming down the stairs.
They were coming to where we were—Mason and the frozen girl.
The alert blared inside me, but I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t do anything. Then Mason lifted his hands, and the moonlight glinted off something metal.
A handgun.
He held it, poised with two straight arms and his feet braced. The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs. Suddenly red and blue lit up the room. It was small at first, then brighter and brighter.
Someone above cursed again and started down the stairs.
Everything in me paused. My heart. My breathing. My thoughts. The girl’s eyes were so wide, so frightened, but she couldn’t say anything. Her voice was paralyzed.
Mason’s finger moved as he took off the safety.
Sirens broke through the girl’s fear. She could hear the cops coming closer and closer. It was no longer just a colorful landscape. They’d parked. They were on the other side of the door. She heard another type of running. The kind that was coming to help. Those feet sounded different than the intruder’s. The footsteps were fast, but sturdy. The others had been accidental, then less tentative, and finally filled with the assuredness that they were alone in this house.
But that was wrong.
It all happened in one second. Mason was braced against the closet door. The cops would burst into the house, and the front door would hit him. The intruder was coming down the stairs and would be right there, right in the spotlight as the cops barged in.
If Mason shot, it might be self-defense.
If the cops shot—well, they might not need to.
Sam had to do something. I had to do something.
Summoning all the strength inside of me, I burst out of my paralysis. I stopped my knees from shaking, my hands from trembling. I was suddenly right here. I felt the chill in the room; I rode the upper crest of the feeling that something wrong was about to happen, something that would change lives.
“Mason, don’t!” My voice finally ripped from its prison.
The intruder froze on the stairs, whirling to me, then looking for Mason.
He cursed.
The cops banged on the door. “POLICE!”
Mason thumbed the safety back on. He locked eyes with the intruder, and both sprang into action.
Mason tossed the gun to me, launching himself forward.
The intruder tried to jump over the bannister, so he would land right where I stood.
I caught the gun as the two crashed into each other.
The door burst open.
Guns, lights, and yells filled the room as four cops rushed forward. Two grabbed Mason and hauled him backward.
“He lives here!” I yelled.
The other two cops grabbed the intruder and slammed him against the wall.
“Sam!” Mason bucked against the cop’s hold.
I looked down and realized I had the gun. I slipped it inside my pocket. The weight sagged my pajama pants, so I scrambled and tightened the drawstring, tying it so it couldn’t budge.
“I’m fine,” I called out, my voice cracking.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I kept repeating that in my head.
I wasn’t fine.
“Let me go. She’s scared.”
One police officer nodded, and the other released Mason. He rushed over to me. I was caught up in his arms, and we both turned to watch.
The cops turned the light on, and one pulled off the intruder’s ski mask.
“Adam?!”
This is insane.
I kept shaking my head, thinking that. It was insane. Adam Quinn broke into our house, and not even our house in Fallen Crest. He drove to Cain, found out where we lived, and then broke into this house. Why? That was the big question. He told the cops it was a good-natured prank.
Mason and I had changed into our clothes now, and the police were still questioning Adam in our living room. He was able to look over at Mason and say, “Right, Mason? We’re in a big prank war. That’s all it was.”
The asshole wanted us to cover for him.
I was about to say hell no, but Mason took my hand to stop me.
“Yeah. Just a really stupid prank. That’s it.”
The cop lowered his notepad. “You don’t want to press charges?”
Mason shook his head, just slightly. “No.” He stared right at Adam, his eyes almost calm, but there was a dangerous aura coming from him. I felt shivers down my spine. Mason had something planned for Adam, but he wasn’t going through legal channels to do it.