Carter dove across the room the moment that first shot sounded. He landed next to Ally, wrapped his arms around her and started to roll out of the room.
He’d never felt so bad about being right in his life. Fuller was just a few steps behind Ally. He’d underestimated just how few.
Five more shots sprayed into the Weaver’s house in quick succession before Carter managed to get Ally to the relative safety of the hallway.
He lifted his head and glanced up at the shattered window by the dining room table, but he didn’t see any sign of the shooter. There was no way of telling if the man was still in the backyard, or if he was alone. There could be someone at the front door right now, just waiting to come in.
Well, if they were stupid enough to make that move, Carter would be ready for them.
Carter tucked Ally up against the wall, and then sprung to his feet. He un-holstered his pistol and held it at the ready.
He waited, but there wasn’t a sound. Not inside the house or out. Carter still didn’t move.
“Are they gone?” Ally asked, after another minute had passed.
“I can’t be sure,” he said. He also couldn’t risk staying holed up. Even if the shooter had fled after his mistake, there was no sense staying in a place where Fuller knew to find them. He had to get Ally out of here, and fast.
Carter inched toward the door. Leading with his weapon, he cracked it open and peered outside.
And saw nothing. Just a regular suburban street. No suspicious looking cars. No glints of sniper scopes in the bushes. No scouts on rooftops.
Carter craned his head back toward Ally. “Do you still have Price’s drive?”
She nodded. She held out her hand in front of her, her fingers clenched tight.
“You’d better put it somewhere safe.” Carter watched as she dropped it inside her purse, and then held his hand out toward her. “Good. Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Ally wrapped her fingers around his palm and lifted herself up on shaky legs. Then she turned and froze.
“What is it?” Carter asked, looking her over, wondering if he’d missed some injury she’d sustained.
“They shot my parent’s house,” she said.
“It’s going to be okay.” Carter put his hand on her shoulder, and tried pulling her toward the door. She dug in her heels.
“No, it’s not.” Her voice was louder now, stronger. “They shot my parent’s house. What the hell am I going to tell my mother?”
“The truth probably,” Carter admitted. “You don’t seem to have any problems telling it to anyone else.”
“But, they—”
“Shot your parent’s house,” he repeated. “Got it. Now we have to go before they come back and shoot us.”
That broke her out of her trance. “Y-yeah. Of course.”
Carter glanced around the neighborhood as he hauled Ally out the door. There were more faces in windows now. More doors starting to open and gawkers coming out into the street. Most of them with their phones held up to their ears.
So much for a clean getaway.
Fuller may not have succeeded in silencing Ally for good, but he certainly had dropped Carter in the middle of one very sticky situation.
He opened the passenger door for her and made sure she was safely inside. There was no point in hiding his face as he walked over to the driver’s side. Not anymore. Half the residents of Granite Hills Court would already be able to describe him perfectly when the police arrived.
He would just have to be ready when they came for him back at the offices of Macmillan Security.
Because they would be coming, and coming soon.
Chapter Five