"Where are you? What happened? What's the matter?" The questions poured out and I desperately wished I was there with her instead of glued to the spot in the middle of a hallway.

"I'm under the bed in my room. Mom said to hide and call you when they pulled into the driveway. I think it's the bad men."

"Are they inside?"

"I don't know. I heard Mom shout once but other than I can't hear anything. You need to get here as fast as you can. We need help, but you can't tell the authorities Mom said. Or Dad."

"Okay," I breathed, my mind racing. "Stay where you are, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," She murmured. "Oh my gosh. I hear voices, someone is coming up the stairs. I have to go. Please come soon."

The call ended but I cried desperately into it, "What? No, Em!" They're in our house.

My breath was caught in my throat, I was so scared. I took a second to press my fingers against my head in an attempt to clear away the panic and jumbled thoughts. My dress. I couldn't run or do anything in this thing. I knocked on Lauren's bedroom door, praying that nobody was in there. When there wasn't a response, I ducked inside to steal a pair of black yoga pants and a black sweatshirt.

What she doesn't know won't kill her.

Next, I needed to figure out a way to save Mom and Emily without having myself or one of them killed in the process. They probably had guns, which was a major leverage. Unless I had a gun too.

But where would I find a gun? I groaned in frustration, pounding the wall with my fist. One of the football players downstairs shouted, his voice louder than the rest and giving me a wake-up call. Gabe. His dad was the sheriff, he was my best shot at gaining access to a gun.

But that would require you telling him everything.

It doesn't matter, my family's lives are in danger and if he can give me the weapon that could save their lives, then so be it.

You don't even know how to use a gun.

Then Gabe can use it, or I'll just figure it out. I need to go in there knowing that I have a weapon that would give the illusion that I'm not as vulnerable as I might seem.

But-

Stop arguing with yourself and go already, you're running out of time. I flew down the stairs, putting my head on a swivel in search for his brown hair and football shoulders. Shoving through the mobs of people, I found him in the living room.

"Gabe!" His head turned in my direction at the sound of my voice.

"Hey!" He smiled but one look at my panicked face had his lips twisting into a frown. "What's wrong?"

I reached him and grabbed his hand, panting, "I need your help right now. I'll explain it to you in the car."

"Okay." He looked confused yet he didn't question anything. "My car's parked right outside."

"Okay, come on," I urged, dragging him out of the house. I broke into a run with him hot on my heels. In record timing, we were driving off.

"Do you want to tell me what that was all about?" He asked, his face masked with concern.

"Just answer one question: do you have any guns at your house or do you know where any guns are?" I sound like a psycho.

"Umm yes. Carter, what are you planning on doing?"

"Drive there," I bossed, pointing. My brain was whirring like a fan and I felt like I was going to explode. I wanted to sob my eyes out, scream until my throat was raw, curl up into a ball, and pound my fists against the wall all at the same time. Nice handle on your emotions, Carter. Somehow, I managed to calmly speed Gabe up to date on everything. The words tumbled out, his foot pressing on the accelerator a little harder as I progressed.

"That's why I got mad at you today. I thought that if you got too close, you'd be in trouble too. Ironically, I'm leading you straight into the fire," I finished as we were pulling up his street.

He cursed and waved off my sort-of apology, "Don't worry about it. This is you and Luke we're talking about here."

I murmured a soft, "Okay."

"I'm going to go inside and get the guns, you just stay here."

I nodded as he ran inside, the darkness of the house swallowing him. I took the opportunity to change out of the constricting black dress and into Lauren's clothes in his absence. I tossed the dress into the back of the car, my leg bouncing up and down in anxiousness. After a few minutes, he burst back out of the house but it felt like years. I didn't know how much time we had left, or if we were taking too long. But that was something I couldn't bear to think about.

"You got them?" I asked, watching as he placed them carefully on the floor of the backseat.

Slowly, I exhaled. "Thank you."

He nodded curtly and floored it. My sewing machine leg refused to cease, mimicking a needle pumping up and down, it was just a black shadow of movement in the night flooded car.

"You got a plan?" He looked over for a second, gray eyes scanning my face.

"Emily is upstairs and I think my mom is downstairs. We can easily climb up to the upstairs using the balcony from my parent's bedroom, that's what my Aunt Mary did. From there, I was just going to wing it. My main concern is getting in there."

"Okay, we'll be there in a minute."

My heart hammered against my ribcage and leaped into my throat when my phone belted out a shrill ring. I fumbled with pressing the green answer button, my thumbs shaking over the screen.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Carter?" Emily whispered. "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way," I reassured her. To Gabe, I demanded, "Go faster."

"I am so scared." Her little voice shook like the skeleton of a leaf in a winter wind. "They came upstairs but I made sure they couldn't find me."

I felt like I had a golf ball lodged in my throat. She's eight years old, she shouldn't have to be dealing with this.

"But, I think they're hurting Mommy. I can't hear very well but sometimes they shout and they sound angry. When are they going to leave?"

"Soon." I hope. "We're in the neighborhood, don't move."

"I-" Emily starting to say something but the call disconnected. Feverishly, my fingers flew over the screen to call her back. But no answer.

"She-she's not answering," I stuttered, hyperventilating.

"We're here." Gabe jerked the car to the side of the road. "Come on, let's go find her. She's probably fine. She probably just ended it on accident."

I nodded, my brain fuzzy and my mouth dry. The notification on my missed calls caught my eye when I looked back at the screen. My fingers curiously tapped the voicemail box, clicking on my dad's missed call.

"Carter, it's me," he gasped. "Your mother isn't answering her phone. You need to get anybody at home out of there. Some men are coming, and I'll be home in fifteen minutes but I don't think I'm going to make it in time."

"That, ugh!" I threw my phone as hard as I could against the floor of the car.

"Look, Carter, just focus. That's how we get them out of there and how we help them, by having a clear head."

"Okay," I nodded, closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath. "Let's do this."

He grabbed the handguns out from the back of the car, placing one in my hands. "The bullets are still in there, okay?"

I shook my head. "Take them all out except for one." Expertly, he emptied the magazine for all but one. His fluidness reassured me that I wasn't in this alone.

Then, he explained, "Really fast. This is the safety, it's on right now so just flick it if you feel the need to shoot. When you want to shoot, hold the gun firmly with both hands. Make sure you're steady and when you put enough pressure on the trigger, it'll shoot."

"Thanks. Okay, let's go." I approached the balcony, tucking the gun into the waistpand of my pants. I had absolutely no idea how Aunt Mary did this.

"How 'bout this?" Gabe came into view from around the back of the house, with his handgun shoved in the waistband of his pants and balancing a ladder on his shoulders. I face palmed myself. We kept the ladder in our unlocked shed. My mom was constantly nagging our family to lock it up but today I was thankful that we never listened.

He silently leaned it up against the side of the house and I scurried up it, swinging my legs over the side of the balcony. I yanked a handle on the door. Locked.

I cursed but Gabe knelt down in front of the handle, pulling a credit card out of his wallet. It took a minute but the door opened willingly.

"Thank you," I whispered. As we stepped softly onto the carpeted floors of my parent's bedroom, I breathed a small, "I'm sorry." Even though I knew he couldn't hear me, it felt necessary.

Gabe flinched next to me, hand reaching for his weapon, and my eyes followed his towards the other side of the queen size bed. Holding my breath, I froze, watching again as the covers moved. Someone was over there, bent down next to the nightstand so we couldn't see them.

I gulped. We were completely exposed and the only way out of this was forward. Gabe took a tentative step forward, clicking off the safety of his gun. At this small noise, the figure popped up and ran in the direction of the bathroom. The figure was small and had long black, clutching a phone in her little hand. Emily. Her sudden movement had Gabe's gun raised and his finger ready on the trigger. I touched his arm and he lowered it, both of knowing it was her.

"Emily," I whisper-shouted. Her midnight hair whirled around, revealing her innocent face and fearful eyes. Tears welled up when she saw me and she barrelled into me, squeezing my stomach in a relieved hug.

"I had to charge the phone," She cried.

"I'm glad you're okay." I smoothed her hair but immediately paused at a shout that echoed from downstairs.

"Hide," I ordered as footsteps pounded up the stairs.

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Who do you think the footsteps belong to?

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- Scarlett