Nine~The Lucky Compass

                                    

                                          
JJ's pov: 
The door shook hard against my back, I felt Gigi begin to tremble. 
I felt her breath pick up against my hand; she was surely hyperventilating now. 
I heard something jam into the keyhole of the door knob behind me, accompanied by angry mumbling. I try my best to suppress the anxiety that washes over me at the familiar sound of the jiggling door knob, at the familiar feeling in my chest as the wooden door begins to shake loudly against the hinges. The only difference is that it's not my dad behind that door. For the first time in my life, I found myself wishing that it was. 
"God damnit, Tommy, this thing is janked; don't open nothing!" The voice behind the door was hoarse and loud. 
Gigi stiffened at the volume of the shouting. 
I kept my hand lightly on her mouth, not even budging as she began to shake her head side to side softly. She was so distraught, maybe even worse than she had been last night. I closed my eyes and found myself holding my breath, as if that would somehow deter the man in the hallway. 
"For fucks sake, Ratter, how hard can it be? Just open the damn thing!" An angry voice rang from across the house. 
I heard a click, and my heart dropped. 
"I-I got it, Ratter!" The voice behind the wood sounded shaky now; for the first time since these men broke in, one of them sounded human, scared even. 
The door swung open hard against my back, and I tried my best to keep it pushed closed with my weight, still holding Gigi as I planted my feet into her wood-paneled floors. After a few seconds of relying solely on my feet to fight the weight of the door, I let go of Gigi and grabbed the door behind me, turning to face it and propelling my entire body against the wooden door I spent my whole childhood banging on. 
I used all my pent-up anger against my dad, all the furry I felt every time I looked at his droopy eyes, and I used it to push as hard as I could, but it was no use. 
The door smashed against the wall, chipping the purple paint in its wake. I stumbled back away from the door, trying to catch my breath as I took in the man in front of me. He was small and scruffy-looking, not as burly as his partner, though no matter his size, the pistol in his right hand still sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes trailed me up and down before moving to look off behind me. 
His eyes narrowed in amusement as he took in Gigi's trembling form, his posture straightened out, and his features smoothed out into a look of satisfaction until he heard a small click. 
I followed his eyes behind me, and they landed on a sight I thought I'd never see, though one that weirdly didn't surprise me: Gigi pointing a gun at a man. 
"Get out!" she whispered with a steady voice, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. 
I turned back to look at the man as he placed the pistol back into his belt and put his hands up in defense above his head. "Alright, relax, relax!" he mimicked her whispered tone.
Without breaking eye contact, the man shouted, "Tommy, the back room's clear!"
He nodded slightly at Gigi before stumbling back into the hallway. 
I raced to the door the second he was gone and shut it carefully and quietly before releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. 
Once the door was shut, the threat gone, I turned to meet eyes with the same scared little girl that locked the doors last night, the same little girl that crawled into bed with Johnny and me every time her dad was late coming home, the same little girl who refused to let go of my hand until the water stilled under her first surfboard. She was still the same little girl in her butterfly pajamas, waiting on the porch couch for her mother to come home.