Page 91 of Ferocious Nightmare

My head slammed backwards, more searing pain tore through it.

I held on tight as he twirled and swirled. Ramming me into the wall, the table, the kitchen island.

I slammed my fist into his ear, just as his men had done to me. He stumbled over Marie's body, and we fell into a heap.

I scrambled across the kitchen floor, trying to reach his fallen gun. A foot stomped on my fingers, smashing them.

“Darth!” I screamed. “Get off me.” He was too busy fighting Dante to notice.

Fingers wrapped around my ankle, jerking me backwards. My hand ripped out from under Darth’s heel. I squealed out, digging my fingers into the tile of the kitchen floor. Trying to leverage myself forward against Nero's pull.

I suddenly let go, and Nero fell back with a clatter. I jumped to my knees again, racing towards the gun.

Within seconds, Nero landed on top of me. Gripping the back of my head, he slammed my face into the tile.

I literally saw fucking stars, then blacked out briefly. I came to just as he slammed my face against the floor again.

I groaned, stilling, realizing I wasn't going to make it to the gun.

He scrambled to me, flipping me over. "Get over here you fucking Bratva bitch!" His spit flew in my face, sliding down my cheek and into the crook of my neck. I punched him in the face. Fuck! That hurt.

As he reacted, jerking forward, I punched him in the nuts.

He roared, slamming a fist into my face, over and over, hitting me until I was dizzy.

I couldn't breathe.

He climbed on top of me. He was too heavy.

My whole body ached. My head pounded.

I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong; and I was so dizzy, I was blacking in and out.

Marie's feet were by my head, unmoving.

I would soon join her if I didn't do something.

Panic began to set in. He was so goddamn heavy, I couldn’t breathe.

I screamed at myself to move, but my body didn’t get the memo. My heart was pounding hard - I must be having a heart attack. I was going to die and he wouldn’t have to do a thing.

I only had one thought, and it looped over and over in my mind.

Just kill him.

Kill him.

Kill him.

They were Coulter’s words to me, that morning in the desert.

I had one last trick.

I put my hand in my pocket and felt the sharp edge of Coulter’s knife. Grabbing hold, I struggled to open it.

Nero was raging, screaming obscenities at me. He grabbed my head one last time and slammed it against the ground.

The light overhead blinked in and out.

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