Brice took a few steps forward. "I can't ask you for help. You're not willing to fight; you choose to wait." Brice hurried away cutting off two cops who tried grabbing him. He kept going until he arrived at his house. He tip-toe around the back, stooping down to follow the blood that leaded into his backyard. He raised the garage door and left it open. After sighing, he realized the blood must have come from earlier. Then he ran up to his back door.
Squeezing through his bushes, he peeked into his front window. Yasmine got up from the sofa. She hadn't helped to pay his bills yet she turned on all the lights in the house. She peered through the curtains.
"Brice, is that you?" she whispered.
"I'm coming in," Brice said, bending down to creep inside his front door, Yasmine open. He held her hands a few minutes. "Let's take a run through the house to see if the person who broke in is still here."
"Who do you think broke in and made this mess?" Yasmine asked, falling back into the sofa.
Yasmine had been here for a while, Brice thought. Hefty couldn't be here unless he hid upstairs, waiting to kill with all that hate built up inside of him. He hurried through the house, searching the living room and kitchen that were trashed. Backing out the kitchen, he sprinted upstairs toward the bedrooms. He smacked his body against the floor of his bedroom, checking underneath the bed. He tore through his closet. Then he jumped at his papers falling from the closet shelf. What was he so scare for? Hefty probably dead anyway.
"What are you doing up there?" Yasmine yelled at the foot of the stairs. Brice lingered at the top step. "Have you heard, Shawn dead?"
One Death At A Time novel blog: http://wwsone.weebly.com/
One Death At A Time novel Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/One-Death-At-A-Time/757986894232119