Summer Boy

7.Protector

  "Oh my god," Emilia said automatically. We all stared in shock at the seen in front of us.

   "Help," Caley gasped from the floor, crying and struggling to get up on her feet.

  "Stay the fuck down!" the mysterious man screamed at her, pointing the gun at us. I looked at Emilia and Holly and told them to go downstairs with Bree and Dana. They nodded, eyes wide and unsure. Holly was sniffling back tears as they scuttled down the steps.

  "Chloe, go with them." Derick whispered, stepping in front of me protectively shielding me from the man with the gun. His voice was strained and serious.

  "No," I said stubbornly. I'm not the kind of girl who is going to run and hide and let the boys fight for me. Not that I didn't appreciate Derick's protectiveness, that I do like. But I was raised to fight for myself, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.

  The man with the gun had it pointed at us, his muscular biceps shaking in his short sleeved T-shirt. His bald head glistened with sweat, shining under the bright light of the hallway. Caley is sobbing quietly, bleeding all over my Grandmother's light blue carpet. I gave her a reassuring nod, because it was all I could do right now to help her.

  In the next second, the echo of a gunshot reverberated against the walls. Instinctively, I ducked down to the carpet. I felt Derick on top of me, hugging my body to his to cover me. The smell of gunpowder wafted through the small space and into my nose. I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to see what was going on around me.

  I heard Caley screaming, and suddenly Derick was no longer covering me. I kept my eyes closed tight, and my arms wrapped around my head crouching on the floor. I felt the floor vibrate, someone had fallen. I opened my eyes slowly, observing the scene in front of me through my hands.

  The small pistol was a few inches in front of me on the carpet. The guy who had the gun is on the floor, unconscious and blood dripping from his nostril. Derick was on top of him, restraining his arms. The Guido Emilia was with, who's name I still don't know, was picking Caley up off the floor.

  With the chaos of the past few minutes, I failed to notice Caley was wearing only her bra (which was half unhooked in the back) and the skirt she had on at the club. In my head, I was able to piece together what might have happened.

  I assume that Caley had met this guy at the club earlier. She had brought him home, where they ended up in the Donkey Pen (our own little "smush" room, if you will). From what it looks like, they were getting into it when something happened. I doubt that he would pull a gun on her just because she wouldn't do something sexual with him, but who the hell knows.

  The Guido was helping Caley up, telling her it was okay and that she is going to be fine. He scooped her up off the floor, which was stained in small spots with crimson blood. Great, Grandma is going to love that. On that note, I realized that the gun had gone off, and as far as I know no one was shot... which means there's a bullet somewhere up here that I still have to find.

  I looked at the wall behind me. Directly behind the place I was standing was a small hole, with a dark web of cracked plaster spreading out from the dark hole. Oh my goodness gracious, she is going to kill me. I may have survived my first shoot-out, but I'll be lucky if I survive when Grandma sees this.

  I ran my fingers through my blonde curls over and over until I felt a little more relaxed. I breathed in a deep breathe, trying to calm myself but instead getting a lungful of gunpowder smoke. I coughed and fanned the smokey air in front of me with my hand.

  "Excuse me," said Emilia's dark, buff, and hair-gelled friend, trying to squeeze past me on the staircase with Caley still softly crying in his arms.