As Shayne scans the road for a parking place he slams on the brakes.
“Put the bullets back in your gun,” he tells me, getting out of the car and pulling his own gun. I hastily do as I’m told and follow him up the path of my house. The door lies on the floor, riddled with bullet holes.
“Shit,” I mutter, checking that my parents’ cars aren’t in the street. They’re not. Shayne is silent, looking through the downstairs rooms.
“Clear,” he whispers, leading me upstairs, leaving my bedroom to be checked last.
“This is not good,” I tell him, kicking my door open. I stand, staring at the state of my room.
“Is your room always this messy?” Shayne asks me.
“No, it’s usually spotless.” Glass and china are scattered across the floor over ripped bed sheets and curtains. My drawers have been ripped out of the chest and their contents are strewn across my bed. My gaze, however, rests on my mirror which has a message written on it in my favourite lipstick.
“You have something I want,” Shayne says.
“Shit. My car!” I squeal, racing down to the garage where Luca had dropped off my car. “Shit, shit, shit,” I yell. The passenger side door is swinging on one hinge, the seats have been slashed open and the contents of my glove box have been thrown across the garage.
“Calm down!” Shayne shouts over my constant swearing.
“I can’t calm down! That’s a fucking Ferrari: it cost a bomb!” I squeal.
“You’re going to disturb the neighbours,” he warns me.
“I don’t care about the bloody neighbours!” I yell. He clamps his hand over my mouth.
“No one can know about this,” he hisses. “We’re going to trash the rest of the house so it looks like a burglary.”
“This sucks,” I mutter, following him into the house.
Luca gets here at the same time as the local police do. He pretends to be a shocked neighbour along with Shayne. When my parents get home they start crying and I’ve never felt so awful. After a lot of questioning from the police, who seem pretty suspicious of me, they’re finally finished.
“Is there anywhere you can stay?” The officer in charge asks my parents.
“Lila can stay with us,” Luca says firmly.
“That’s a good idea. She can’t get any safer than with you two,” mum says shakily.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The officer asks, looking puzzled. Shayne and Luca both pull out their badges at the same time.
“She’ll be fine with us, Mr and Mrs Jones,” Luca assures my mum. He glances between my parents and I, confused and suspicious. Seriously, for secret agents neither of these men are very smart.
“Come on, Lila, I’ll make you some hot chocolate,” Mrs Benedict says, leading me into her warm house. Shayne and Luca follow us in and don’t leave my side all day.
“Sweetie, just go to bed,” Shayne murmurs as I struggle not to fall asleep on his chest.
“No,” I say firmly. “I don’t want to sleep.”
“You have to,” he tells me. He shifts under me and gets up. “Go to bed.”
“No,” I say. He shrugs and scoops me up into his arms. “Put me down!”
“Nope,” he grins as I try to hit out at him. He carries me up to his room and dumps me on top of his bed.
“Shayne, she can’t sleep in your bed,” Mrs Benedict tells him crossly.
“She can if I’m not in it. Goodnight mum,” he says, curling up on the sofa at the foot of the bed. I shiver as I try to fall asleep. When Shayne hears the creak of his mum’s bed he climbs into the huge bed with me, pulling me close.
“Night Shayne,” I whisper.
“Sweet dreams. I mean it. Sweet ones, not bad ones, okay?” he brushes a kiss over my forehead as I drift to sleep in his warm, loving arms.
