Donna Grant - Fire Rising

“Who am I kidding?” she asked herself.

They would probably shoot her rather than look at her. Even if she feigned ignorance, she was sure they wouldn’t let her go.

She didn’t want to die, so Sammi did what she had to do—as always. After grabbing a bag from under her bed, she pulled open several drawers and was about to start stuffing clothes in when she heard a vehicle pull up.

Sammi hastily rushed to the other side of her loft that faced the parking lot and sidled against the wall next to the window. She hesitated for just a second before she carefully peered through the sheer gold curtains.

That is when she caught sight of the Lexus SUV and the three burly men who stepped out and flanked a tall, impressively dressed man who was obviously their leader.

He paused to button his suit jacket and glanced up at her window. She couldn’t tell much about him other than he had dark, clean-cut hair.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” she mumbled as she ducked and crawled away from the window as fast as she could.

She had to get down to Daniel so they could get out the back before—

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt with the sound of the pub door crashing open. There was no way they could get out now. Sammi stood at the top of the stairs, her heart beating a slow, sickening rhythm.

This was the night she was going to die. The realization turned her blood to ice. She glanced at the phone, wishing she had returned Jane’s phone call as she had planned to do earlier that day.

Jane, the half-sister who had walked into her life so suddenly two years ago. It had been impossible not to like Jane. No matter how Sammi tried, she and Jane had become closer than she had let anyone after her mother died.

Sammi’s thoughts halted as Daniel cried out in pain. Adrenaline spiked as she flattened herself against the wall in case someone glanced up the stairs.

“You should’ve known better than to steal from me,” came a cultured English accent from below. “I might have been more lenient had you come when I summoned you.”

“Ow … I,” Daniel said around large puffs of air. “I was going to bring you the new tallies from the latest batch I’ve laundered.”

“How much did you take this time?”

Sammi cringed when Daniel hesitated.

“Danny,” the man said, a hint of malice and something even darker infusing his voice. “I suggest you answer me.”

“I on-only took ten thousand.”

“And what have you done with my money?”

The sound of footsteps approaching had Sammi backing farther away from the stairs. She didn’t hear Daniel’s response as she focused on whoever might come up after her.

Several tense minutes passed before the man walked away. Sammi let out a relieved sigh, but when Daniel let out another scream, she knew she couldn’t wait around forever.

She licked her lips as she looked across the space to the windows on either side of her bed. If she could get to them, she could use the water pipes to slide down. But that was a big if.

“Where is Miss Miller?” the leader asked.

She was really beginning to hate that sophisticated tone of his.

Daniel refused to answer. A moment later she heard the unmistakable sound of a fist meeting a body. Daniel coughed, his wheezing breath telling her the punch had landed in his stomach.

“I’ll ask once more, Danny. Where is Miss Miller?”

“She’s not a part of this,” he said.

Sammi closed her eyes as she heard another punch being thrown.

“Right his chair, Fabian,” the leader said.

A chair scraped against her floor, then there was nothing but silence. Sammi’s imagination ran rampant with what could be going on.

“Danny?”

“She’s not here,” Daniel barked angrily. “Sammi took a couple of days off.”

There was a snort. “You mean you sent her away so you wouldn’t have to explain yourself to her, right?”

“Whatever you say, Mr.—”

Daniel was cut off with another punch to his face. Sammi opened her eyes and looked at the windows again. Her time was running out. The men wouldn’t take Daniel’s word for it. They would search the entire pub. If she wanted to see the sun rise, she couldn’t remain.

She drew in a deep breath and released it at the same time she dashed across the open doorway. Her thought had been speed, not stealth. A mistake she realized all too soon when a board creaked beneath her foot. She froze, and that’s when she heard the leader send someone to search upstairs.

Sammi’s hands shook as she tried to unlock the window. The adrenaline kept her from falling apart, but it was the panic that caused her to fumble.

She got it open when the first thug bounded up the stairs. With the lights out he couldn’t see her, but that didn’t stop him from firing off several shots around the room—one coming entirely too close.

While he groped for the lights, she wedged the window open enough so she could slip out. She had a grip on the pipes with her legs and one hand so she could lower the window until it was nearly shut.

Luck was on her side, because at that moment the lights flicked on.

Sammi heard voices out in front of the pub and quickly slid down the pipes as fear pushed her. She landed hard on the ground, tweaking her ankle. After a hasty look over her shoulder, she ran between empty crates and into the water with nary a sound just as footsteps running toward her grew louder.

Even in the dark water, she huddled against the dock, afraid they would see her. They were there waiting for her to make a noise and reveal herself, but she refused to do something so foolish.

Sammi shivered from the cool water and the terror gripping her. Any moment her life could be snuffed out, ending before she had accomplished any of her goals.

They walked to the edge of the docks and stood there searching the black water. The silence was the hardest. She silently begged them to talk, to say anything to break the quiet.

She got her wish when they began firing several rounds that zinged all around her like tiny missiles. After what seemed like hours, the leader called to his men and they walked off. Sammi waited until she heard their SUV engine turn over, and then she started to climb out of the water.

That’s when her pub blew up.

Sammi was forcefully thrown back into the sea by the impact. She looked up through the rippling waves and saw the flames shooting into the dark sky. It wasn’t until she started swimming that she felt a twinge in her shoulder.

She broke the surface and drew in a ragged breath, letting her burning lungs take in huge mouthfuls of air. People were running about, shouting as they tried to put out the fire so the rest of the street didn’t go up in flames as well.

Sammi swam father down the dock away from her pub and climbed unsteadily up the ladder. Only then did she touch her shoulder and hiss in a breath at the contact.

She fisted her hands, only to bite back a curse. When she glanced down at her palms, she found they were bleeding and raw from her journey down the pipes.

The adrenaline was putting off most of the pain, but that wouldn’t last long. She needed to put some distance between her and Oban before the real pain slammed into her.

One month later …

“Hey, sis, it’s me.”

Sammi rolled her eyes at her too bright tone as she drove her fourth stolen car. That would never do. She had to make Jane think it was an unplanned—and quick—visit.

If her half-sister got wind that she was in trouble, Jane would try to help. And that’s the last thing Sammi wanted her to do.

The truth was, she was desperate for some rest. True rest. Not the kind she’d been getting for the last four weeks where she slept for a few minutes at a time because there wasn’t a place she felt safe enough to give into the sleep her body needed to help it heal.