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Chapter Seventeen

My consciousness skirted around the edges of my sleep fogged brain. I didn't want to wake up yet. Opening my eyes and dealing with reality meant thinking about Lillith, left behind with Aaron and Dave. It meant worrying over how easy it was to get a hotel room and how many rooms were taken. And it meant thinking about Nick, and how we were going to rescue him. I snuggled closer the warmth next me, letting Burneys regular breaths lull me back into my false sense of safety. It would all be okay. It had to be okay. Didn't it?

Glass shattered and a woman screamed. Burney and I were on our feet in an instant.

"Ronnie?"

My friend nodded.

"Where's Mike?"

"Not here," he said, glancing at the couch.

Something thumped into our shared wall, knocking the faded picture of a sunset off its nail. It shattered on the carpet.

"Where are the guns?"

"With Stan."

"Then let's go," I said, sprinting for the door.

"Fayle!"

"What?"

"Catch," he said, throwing me a
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