Wanting Read Free Page A

element that lived around there.
    “Dane?”
    He waited a few beats for a response and, after not getting one, turned to face the door, lifting his arm to snap the bolts across. They slid into place easily, and he stared through the glass as he moved his hand to grab the string that pulled the blinds down.
    It took a second or two for it to register that someone in a black balaclava stood on the other side, sawn-off held in gloved hands, fleshy lips slack in the sideways-oval mouth hole.
    Adam’s legs went first, went to damn jelly, and his arsehole spasmed. His bollocks drew up next, and a scream brewed in his chest before his lungs strangled the fuck out of it. He willed the scream to come out, or at least some form of noise so Dane knew what was going on, but nothing came. He backed away from the door, gaze fixed on that shotgun, as though if he didn’t look away from it the thing wouldn’t be used. But hey, shit hadn’t worked out like that for him before, and, sure enough, the burly bastard holding it tucked it under his armpit and took aim.
    Adam darted to the right, hiding beside the floor-to-ceiling shelf unit in front of the window that held breakfast cereals and chocolate digestive biscuits. He’d bought a packet of those the other day and had forgotten about them, had fancied them with a hot cup of tea and a good read of the newspaper.
    Funny how crap like that came to mind when you were scared shitless.
    He backed down the aisle, thinking that if he got to the other end he’d be able to run like hell to the rear of the shop, warn Dane and call the police. Memories from…from before came, and he batted them away, knowing if he let them run free he’d be as good as dead. That bloke out there could still see him from where he was, could still shoot through the glass and kill Adam’s sorry arse.
    Turning his back and praying he’d make it, Adam legged it, scooting around the corner, almost falling from his shoes being so wet. He ran to the back of the store, nudging an end unit holding cheese Doritos and jars of salsa dip. They went flying, glass smashing behind him, and all Adam could think about was getting to Dane, getting to where he was safe.
    He plunged through the storeroom door, spotting Dane hunched over a large cardboard box, clipboard in hand, pencil clamped between his teeth. Dane looked up, cheesy grin spreading, and removed the pencil, slipping it behind his ear. He stood, mouth open ready to speak, and must have registered the fear on Adam’s face, because he snapped his mouth closed as quickly as he’d opened it.
    “There’s a man. A fucking man!” Adam’s chest burned—burned so much he thought his lungs would burst.
    “Aww, come on now.” Dane stepped forward, dropping the clipboard into the open box. “You can’t keep doing this every time you see a guy in the dark. I told you before, it was a random attack, it—”
    “There’s a fucking man! Shotgun. Balaclava.” Adam jabbed his thumb in the air over his shoulder, glancing that way to make sure the man wasn’t behind him.
    “Fuck!” Dane’s face paled, and he strode past Adam, yanking the door open and bursting into the office.
    Adam followed, trailing him right up the arse. Dane stared at two monitors on the desk, one showing the back entrance, the other showing the front, then turned to face Adam.
    “There’s no one there,” he said.
    “Call the police anyway.” Adam leaned on the desk, peering at the screens. “He was right there!” He stabbed a finger at the image of the front door. “Right fucking there! ”
    “All right, calm down.”
    Dane picked up the phone and dialled. Adam clenched his teeth in an effort to stave off the shivers rampaging all over him, folded his arms across his middle to give himself a bit of comfort. It had worked in the past, when he was alone at home and thought he’d heard something—someone—outside their front door. It helped calm him, get things in perspective.
    It