Breaking the Door
Through the phone I heard his truck engine as he pulled up to the house.
“Front door’s locked,” he said.
My heart pounded painfully in my chest.
“I’m going around back.”
A few seconds later I heard running footsteps…
Then a loud crash.
Wood splintering.
“Kitchen door was easier,” Marcus said. “I’m inside.”
I sped through another red light without even slowing.
Twelve minutes away.
