“Yep,” she said, her breath on my shoulder. For a second, everything else faded.
Other than us, the street was lifeless. Kids’ bikes were scattered on the lawn of the apartment complex next to Marisol’s house. A streetlight flickered at the end of the block.
“I’ll go in,” I told her.
“I’ll come with you,” she offered. Cassie looked paler than usual beneath the streetlamps.
“No, you stay. Stay with your mom.” I glanced back down the street. “I can’t believe the police aren’t here by now.”
She folded her arms, shivering. “This isn’t exactly a high-priority neighborhood.”
Marisol handed me her keys. “Bottom floor. Biggest key. Top lock.”
Cassie squeezed my arm. “Thank you.”
After I turned the barrel of the lock, I pressed my ear to the door, waiting for the sound of movement. Nothing. Scooting to the side of the door, I lifted my cane, and whipped it open, bracing for a body, waiting to get a hit square in the gut, just like my dad taught me.
Still nothing.
I felt along the walls for a light switch with one hand, gripping the cane with the other. My leg was on fire, but none of it registered. All my nerves were focused on the task.
My foot crunched a shard of glass. Light from the street illuminated the rest of it, glittering, all over the floor. A large window on the east end had been smashed in. Paintings and photos hung on the wall, and there was a square of paint above a media console that was brighter than the rest of the wall. They’d taken the TV.
I paused in the middle of the room, listening for another snap of glass. If whoever was in here wanted to get out, they’d have to step loudly.
I glanced to the left. Two smaller windows had shattered, spidering from the impact of bullets. Shit. The intruder had a gun.
A noise filled the room. A high chime. My heart stopped.
Then I realized it was my phone. Just my stupid phone.
I glanced at it, cane still ready.
this wut u get when u dont pay, the message read.
Johnno.
The fire in my leg moved into my entire body, white, hot flames. He wasn’t going to get away with this.
Sirens sounded in the distance, rapidly approaching, screeching to a halt outside the duplex.
When I came out, Marisol was talking to an officer. The flashing lights turned the walls of the house blue and then red. A few curious neighbors pressed their faces to their windows. Someone across the street opened their front door and leaned against the screen.
I limped over to Cassie. “What took them so long?”
She tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear, a shadow passing over her face. “Just be happy you’re white or you’d be on the ground with a knee in your back.”
I nodded, my veins still pumping. “I want to pay for your mom’s windows and the TV,” I told Cassie.
Cassie looked at me, confused. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to.”
She shrugged, yawning, and shivered again. “I’m too tired to get offended by your pity.”
“Are you cold?” I asked.
Her eyelids were drooping. “Yeah.”
“Do you want me to take you home? I have Rita’s car.” She didn’t look like she wanted to drive. She didn’t look like she wanted to do anything but sleep.
“It’s fine. I want to stay with my mom a little more,” Cassie said, waving, as she walked away. “I’ll see you later.”
I hesitated, and got back into Rita’s car. I kept my eyes on Cassie and her mother as I drove slowly down the street, the flashing lights cutting strobes across my vision. I watched until they were two dark, huddled specks against the night, until I turned the corner and could no longer see what Johnno—what I—had brought upon them.
Cassie
After the police left, Mom and I boarded up her windows. I asked her if she wanted me to stay with her, or if she wanted to come to my apartment, but she’d waved me off. “Go get some sleep, mija. I’m fine.”
I clutched the steering wheel. My fingertips were tingling. I didn’t want to wake Toby again, so I turned toward my place, stifling a yawn. The roads were empty, the traffic lights flashing yellow. My vision blurred, and a cold sweat began to work its way through my body.
Shit, I was tired. It was three thirty a.m., but it was more than that. Food. That thing I was supposed to eat. I’d forgotten my phone at home, which meant my alarms hadn’t gone off. Luckily I was only ten minutes from home. I’d be fine. To distract myself, I went over the set list for tomorrow night.