Loud, obnoxious banging. I blinked several times and tried to focus my eyes enough to see what time it was. I peeked at the time on my cell phone and groaned. It was near three thirty in the morning, and the only person I’d expect to knock on my front door at that time, or anytime, was Vince, and he was snoring on his stomach next to me.I shook his shoulder, whispering loudly in his ear. “Vince, get up. Someone’s outside.”He jolted up, hand already on the gun underneath his pillow, and jumped out of bed. He rushed to the door, wearing boxers and his black socks, gun pointed straight ahead. I grabbed my robe, tying it tightly around my waist and followed behind him, careful to be as quiet as possible.The whole thing smelled bad. There was no reason for anyone to be at my door. Something was wrong, and it turned my blood into ice water.“Jesus, fuck,” he snapped, turning to face me. “Fucking Maguire.”My eyebrows shot up and I let out a small gasp of surprise. “What the hell?”Nodding toward the door, he gave me a questioning look.
