Page 219 of Micah
Then—
A scream.
Her scream.
“SLOANE!”
I don't remember crossing the parking lot.
One second I'm outside.
The next my shoulder slams into the front door hard enough to rip it off the latch.
The music cuts out as the sound echoes through the bar.
Time slows.
Glass litters the floor.
Beer runs in sticky rivers between overturned chairs.
Liquor bottles lie shattered behind the bar.
A table burns in one corner where a candle has caught a soaked menu.
Scarface turns first.
Then everyone else.
And finally...
I see her.
Sloane.
She's backed against the bar.
White as a ghost.
Terrified.
Her shirt is torn.
There are tear stains on her cheeks.
Her face is red where someone slapped her.
The second our eyes meet...
Everything changes.
Relief floods her face so suddenly my chest physically hurts.
She knew I'd come.
Thank fuck.
She knew.
