Page 84 of Keep You Close

Amy Jane was a sweet, teenaged girl with no experience, who was being led by her heart into hell.

I wasn’t her anymore.

I was AJ.

The woman who survived all that, who used her hardships to become stronger, who didn’t let it break her, who used it to slowly build a life she loved.

With a man she… yes, loved.

If there was ever a time when you could be honest about your feelings for a man, it was when you were facing your possible death.

I loved him.

Atlas.

For everything he was for me. Kind. Patient. Understanding. Generous.

And for everything he was. Adventurous. Brave. Exciting. Easy-going. Worldly. Connected with his family.

I loved him.

And I loved what we’d been creating together.

My heart ached at the idea of that being cut short.

Especially by Joss.

I waited as he got closer, then bent toward me, arms outstretched, ready to grab me, to pull me up. Maybe not all the way. Knowing him, he’d yank me up enough to strike a blow.

I timed it just right.

Then I kicked out with everything inside of me.

The impact landed in his lower stomach, and I got a sick sense of satisfaction at hearing the way his breath gasped out of him as he stumbled back.

I didn’t waste any time enjoying my victory, though.

I rushed to get up on my feet, making my way across the hall into the bathing room, regretting my decision almost immediately because, like the break room, there was only one exit. And the room had a massive metal, industrial pet bathing station. Lots of hard lines and sharp edges to bash me against.

“You’ll pay for that, you stupid bitch,” Joss roared, close behind me. Too close.

My good hand shot out, grabbing the handle of a massive jug of dog shampoo.

Even half full, it was heavy enough to do some damage.

I had no choice, given the small space, but to back myself into a corner, wondering if I whacked him hard enough to disorient him, I could unlock, open, and climb out the window.

But, no.

No.

They were old windows. And the exterior glass panes would be pulled down. There was no way I could unlock and open the window, draw up the extra pane, and then climb out unless, by some miracle, Joss was unconscious.

“Do it,” Joss hissed. “I dare you.”

He would try to take it, I knew, if I swung too early, or if I didn’t otherwise distract him.

“I’ll just make you pay for it after,” he said.

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