Detached

CHAPTER 78

*MEERA'S POINT OF VIEW*

(Flashback)

I was yanked from my sleep by a loud bang in the hallway outside our apartment. My heart leapt into my chest as Dean ran into my room and over to my bed. His hands closed around my upper arms so tightly that I was sure to have finger-shaped bruises there in a few hours. I squealed as he pulled me from the bed, shoving me against the wall. My mouth popped open, shocked at the abrupt wake up and the force he was using. Wordlessly, he grabbed the heavy reading chair from the corner of my room and dragged it over to me, placing it in front of me as he grabbed my hand and made us both duck down behind it.

“Dean, what’s-”

“Be quiet!” he interjected. My eyes widened as he pulled out his cell phone, frantically dialling someone. “Shit,” he hissed, before he tried another number. This one must have connected as he spoke words that sent a mortified chill down my spine. “Someone’s here. Get in here, now!”

Someone’s here…

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That was when I heard gunshots. I screamed and quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. Dean dialled his phone again, his eyes and gun both trained on the door to my bedroom. “It’s Agent Rao. The jewel’s in trouble, send more people, now!” he growled as he snapped the phone shut quickly.

I couldn’t breathe. Silent tears were falling down my face as Dean positioned himself between me and the door, with his gun pointed there ready. I heard more shots and then the bedroom door swung open quickly, slamming against the wall. Dean let off a couple of shots and the intruder immediately jumped back against the door frame, out of sight.

My breathing was coming out in pants as panic made my head swim. I tried my hardest to count my heartbeats so that I didn’t have a panic attack. I needed to remain in control in case we needed to run or get out quickly.

“Put your gun down!” the guy ordered from outside the door. I whimpered, and Dean shushed me again. “Put your gun down, and you won’t get hurt,” the guy tried again. A cold trickle seemed to run down my back. I recognised that voice, I couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but he had dark hair. He worked for James. “We have one of your agents. We don’t want to hurt him, but we will if we don’t get what we want. All we want is Meera,” he continued.

My blood ran cold in my veins. One of our agents? Oh God, please let us get out of this, please!

Hesitantly, Pratik stepped into the doorway, looking terrified, his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ fashion. I immediately saw the reason for the pose. There was a gun to his head. His eyes found us immediately, his jaw tightened, and he seemed to be holding a silent conversation with Dean. I had no idea what the intense look on his face was; all I could see was panic and fear. The dark-haired guy stepped close behind him, using Pratik’s body as a shield as they both stepped into the room. The gun pressed harder into Pratik’s head, making him wince.

“Come on out, Meera,” the guy sang, his tone amused. “You don’t want him to get hurt now, do you?”