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Trev was surprised to hear her speak, though he knew she'd been talking with Sandy along the way. |
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'I'll go in first, honey. Trevor, get on with it.' |
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'You'd better hang onto me,' he said. 'The stoop's slippery. I'll end up on my ass.' |
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Sandy studied his eyes for a moment, then nodded. She pressed herself against his back and wrapped her left arm across his chest. Her right hand shoved the gun muzzle against his ribs. |
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Do it so we both fall, he thought. |
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Hell, it would probably happen anyway. Kicking open doors wasn't as easy as it looked on TV. His foot was likely to bounce right back at him and knock them both flat. |
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Of course, Sandy might pull the trigger. |
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But maybe she wouldn't. With a little luck, he could get the gun away from her once they hit the concrete. |
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'What're you waiting for?' |
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'Be careful with that gun,' he said. Then he raised his right leg, drew his knee in toward his chest, and drove his foot at the door. The heel of his shoe struck beside the handle. |
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Pain didn't streak up his leg. The door didn't throw his foot back at him. |
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Instead, he felt an instant of hard resistance and the door burst open and slammed the wall behind it. |
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He was still off balance when Sandy hurled him forward. He tripped on the threshold, staggered across some carpet, and fell to his hands and knees. Sandy rushed past him. She was crouched low, head |
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