The branch bent with our weight as we left it for the grass below. Somehow we managed to land on our feet and Lyle immediately put her hand to my head motioning for us to duck to the side of the building. My ankles ached from the fall, but I didn't dare move from my rigid position against the brick.
In the moonlight I could see the branch we lept from shaking from our force. An almost inaudible click sounded from above us leading to a whisk and then a thud. Something small but mighty hit the tree trunk a few feet above us.
A bullet.
I'd never seen or heard one in person, but it was obvious to me. My body stiffened and I held my breath. Lyle placed an arm across my chest holding me to the wall of the home. We were completely encased in the shadows as the sounds of the men arguing above us floated through the night. My heart threatened to beat out of my ribcage as we waited for the men to leave their perch.
Smith swore again. "They went out the window. Go down stairs." He ordered. His voice cut through the silence.
Everything about this felt wrong and distant. It was not my body pressed against the brick facade. It was not my memories of walking in on Lyle and the two men arguing in the kitchen, a place that is - was - a safe space to me. I wanted to leave, just walk away from the moment that I couldn't ever come close to fathoming. Yet my body would not comply, a part of my brain understood the danger - although it seemed to be hoarding the epiphany to itself.
The other part of my brain was screaming for me to march up to room and demand to the two men just what in the hell was going on. I'm not sure if that was the courageous or stupid part. What were they accusing Lyle of? And why had they singled out me? A painting...
I needed to know what was going on. It was the only thing my mind could focus on.
"I will tell you everything you want to know."
Lyle's words played in the back of my head.
Would she? She'd consistently avoided my questions, it was the only predictable thing about her. Was it a risk to follow her? Gentle chatter from the bonfire carried over the breeze. Was it better to tear away from her hand that fit so naturally in mine and lose my chance to learn what transpired tonight.
The painting.
Smith's statement held me captive. Had it not been for those simple two words I would've run. Run to Grace screaming like a maniac and hidden behind her until everything was over.
But the painting, it had to be - why else would Smith refer to me as its artist? I needed to know.
"We are going to run as quickly as we can to my car, ok?" Lyle pulled me back down to earth as she gave my hand a shake.
I'd somehow completely forgotten her presence stunned by her intensity as she spoke softly. Her light eyes shone through the deep shadow and I briefly allowed myself to wonder what I had seen in them just a few moments ago that caused her to become so foreign.
"Ok." I murmured locking eyes with Lyle.
Without another moment to waste we took off into the night. The quick force of air rushing into my lungs felt like fire as we sprinted across the lot to Lyle's green hatchback.
I looked over my shoulder, sure that the men would appear any moment to take another shot at us. I started counting the seconds as we ran, willing time to go faster than I perceived it to be.
One, Smith and Jones would be rushing down the back staircase and into the kitchen.
Two, I felt the crunch of the graveled driveway under my feet and the sound of the tiny rocks spewing out behind me.
Three, the sound of the door to the Tudor home swinging open echoed in the night.
Four, we ducked into the space between the lines of parked cars.
Five, urgent footsteps accompanied ours as the men sprinted after us. They were silent careful not to call anymore attention to themselves.
Six, we reached Lyle's car. I flung open the passenger door before collapsing into the damaged leather seat. No sooner had I shut the door then Lyle started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot.
Seven, I couldn't move.
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The Painting
Mystery / Thriller"It took me five seconds to fall. The impact on my chest jarring my body but not my mind. I suppose this is the point where your life is supposed to flash before your eyes as time itself freezes - and it did in a way. But I didn't relive my life phy...
