breath. Hayley watched her use the wood frame of the bed to slowly pull herself upward. Her legs wobbled like a newborn deer’s.
They were fucked.
But apparently it was all show. When Kitally whirled around, Hayley wrenched her head to one side, giving Kitally room to jam the heel of her hand into Holmes’s nose.
Bone crunched.
Hayley yanked herself free, but Holmes reeled around, blood gushing from his nose as he blindly planted his knuckles into Hayley’s left cheekbone.
Growling, Kitally struck him in the throat, then used her body weight to throw a sharp elbow dead center into his torso, finishing with a right knee to the groin.
Holmes grunted and fell to the ground.
Hayley and Kitally took off at the same time, down the hall and out the door. Hayley slammed the hood of the car down just as Kitally jumped in behind the wheel. Hayley leaped into the passenger seat right before Kitally hit the gas.
When Hayley looked back, she saw Holmes charge out the door holding his face, stopping in the middle of the street. He was still standing there when Kitally took a sharp left and disappeared out of sight.
Hayley opened the mirror on the visor. There was already some discoloration, and her eye was swollen and half-shut. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Why did you come after me? That was never part of the plan.”
“All you had to do was text me,” Kitally said, “and let me know you were having problems getting shit done in there. I thought you had fallen into a black hole. When Holmes drove up and I didn’t see you drop out of a window or come running around the side of the house, I knew I had to do something.”
“Stupid move,” Hayley said. “I had it under control. And the reason I didn’t text you back was because I had crawled under the bed and I couldn’t reach my phone. I could hear Holmes in the kitchen, rifling through the refrigerator. Once he settled down, I was going to sneak out the back door.”
“You were on the wrong side of the house. The back door, if there was one, was on the other side.”
“Then I would have crawled through the fucking window.”
“You said you would be fifteen minutes.”
“No, I told you to give me thirty.”
Kitally shook her head as she kept her eyes on the road in front of her. “That’s not what you said.”
Hayley opened the glove box and pulled out the throwaway phone. Then she called 911 and reported a rape taking place inside the house on 1273 Florence Drive in Sacramento. She told them to hurry, and then she hung up the phone before they could ask for a name.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lizzy had worked late last night and didn’t get home until well past midnight, when the only noise outside was the chirping of crickets. By the time she awoke, the sun was up and the day had started without her.
She staggered into the bathroom. A dizzy head prompted her to hang on to the counter for support. She felt hungover; with dark circles under her eyes, she looked hungover, too, and yet she hadn’t had a drink since Hayley found her in the office drowning her sorrows in a bottle of scotch three months ago.
It took her fifteen minutes to get through her morning routine. Downstairs, she found Kitally at the kitchen table, eating scrambled eggs.
“Morning,” Lizzy mumbled. “How did everything go with the prison guard? Any problems getting in and out?”
A girl stepped out of the main part of the kitchen and into view. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun. She was olive-skinned, ridiculously young, and pregnant.
Lizzy cocked her head and said, “Who are you?”
“I’m Salma. Who are you?”
Lizzy looked at Kitally. “What’s going on?”
“Hayley and I were driving around looking for the Ghost when we happened upon Salma sleeping in the park.”
“So you brought her here?”
“There’s plenty of room,” Hayley said from the main living area.
Lizzy lifted both palms in question. “Are we opening up
They were fucked.
But apparently it was all show. When Kitally whirled around, Hayley wrenched her head to one side, giving Kitally room to jam the heel of her hand into Holmes’s nose.
Bone crunched.
Hayley yanked herself free, but Holmes reeled around, blood gushing from his nose as he blindly planted his knuckles into Hayley’s left cheekbone.
Growling, Kitally struck him in the throat, then used her body weight to throw a sharp elbow dead center into his torso, finishing with a right knee to the groin.
Holmes grunted and fell to the ground.
Hayley and Kitally took off at the same time, down the hall and out the door. Hayley slammed the hood of the car down just as Kitally jumped in behind the wheel. Hayley leaped into the passenger seat right before Kitally hit the gas.
When Hayley looked back, she saw Holmes charge out the door holding his face, stopping in the middle of the street. He was still standing there when Kitally took a sharp left and disappeared out of sight.
Hayley opened the mirror on the visor. There was already some discoloration, and her eye was swollen and half-shut. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Why did you come after me? That was never part of the plan.”
“All you had to do was text me,” Kitally said, “and let me know you were having problems getting shit done in there. I thought you had fallen into a black hole. When Holmes drove up and I didn’t see you drop out of a window or come running around the side of the house, I knew I had to do something.”
“Stupid move,” Hayley said. “I had it under control. And the reason I didn’t text you back was because I had crawled under the bed and I couldn’t reach my phone. I could hear Holmes in the kitchen, rifling through the refrigerator. Once he settled down, I was going to sneak out the back door.”
“You were on the wrong side of the house. The back door, if there was one, was on the other side.”
“Then I would have crawled through the fucking window.”
“You said you would be fifteen minutes.”
“No, I told you to give me thirty.”
Kitally shook her head as she kept her eyes on the road in front of her. “That’s not what you said.”
Hayley opened the glove box and pulled out the throwaway phone. Then she called 911 and reported a rape taking place inside the house on 1273 Florence Drive in Sacramento. She told them to hurry, and then she hung up the phone before they could ask for a name.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lizzy had worked late last night and didn’t get home until well past midnight, when the only noise outside was the chirping of crickets. By the time she awoke, the sun was up and the day had started without her.
She staggered into the bathroom. A dizzy head prompted her to hang on to the counter for support. She felt hungover; with dark circles under her eyes, she looked hungover, too, and yet she hadn’t had a drink since Hayley found her in the office drowning her sorrows in a bottle of scotch three months ago.
It took her fifteen minutes to get through her morning routine. Downstairs, she found Kitally at the kitchen table, eating scrambled eggs.
“Morning,” Lizzy mumbled. “How did everything go with the prison guard? Any problems getting in and out?”
A girl stepped out of the main part of the kitchen and into view. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun. She was olive-skinned, ridiculously young, and pregnant.
Lizzy cocked her head and said, “Who are you?”
“I’m Salma. Who are you?”
Lizzy looked at Kitally. “What’s going on?”
“Hayley and I were driving around looking for the Ghost when we happened upon Salma sleeping in the park.”
“So you brought her here?”
“There’s plenty of room,” Hayley said from the main living area.
Lizzy lifted both palms in question. “Are we opening up
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