Page 9 of Capturing Hearts

Chapter Eight

Annie

My Job: fill empty glasses. Habit: to look at said empty glasses. Heart: exploded into shattering bits as I look and see the ring.

I’m frozen, no more than three feet away from him. My eyes fly up to meet his, which are now tiny slits of evil.

With an eerily calm, low voice, he asks, “What’s me, Annie?” He’s poised and ready to pounce.

Brendan’s on the seat next to him, which is essentially behind Tommy from where I’m standing. “Annie, what’s wrong?”

My eyes flit to the register to where I’ve left my phone. I lick my lips, not moving.

Tommy sees me looking and knows exactly what I’m thinking.

I make a break for my phone to call 911, yelling, “Brendan, grab him! He’s the gunman!” but Tommy lunges for me and grabs me in a chokehold, turning to face us to Brendan who’s stunned and didn’t have time to react. Brendan jumps off the chair, his arms out in front of him as he squares off, ready to fight. “Tommy! Let her go!”

“It’s him,” I gasp to Brendan, my voice cracking under the pressure of his grip. “It’s him!”

“Fuck! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go! I knew I shouldn’t have come here! FUCK!” Tommy yells, filled with rage. We know that sound well. His yelling sounds exactly like the gunman. “Brendan, back off or I’ll break her fucking neck!”

Brendan’s eyes cut from Tommy to me and he steps back. He’s got the same look he had the night of the shooting, when he was so angry he couldn’t get the money out of the register for me and keep me safe. “No fucking way! How is it you?” Brendan spits, his anger taking root with nowhere to go.

I feel the choke tighten, my air channel leaving me. I know now is the time. I’m about to die. He will kill me. There’s no doubting it. If I don’t wake up, I will die. It’s time to stop being the victim.

I bring my elbow hard into Tommy’s ribs. He yells out, and tightens the choke. But I’ve freed my arm enough to flash it back in another hard elbow-strike. In the split second of his reaction, I make a claw with my fingers, shoot my arm in the air, twist my body, and pluck down hard at his grip, snapping his arm down by using all of my weight as I push into him to use his own force to throw him off balance. He’s pulling at me. He expects me to pull back. So when I fall into him, he falls backward. I duck my body and jump out of what’s left of his grip, planting myself in front of him in my fight stance

“What the fuck!” he growls.

With my hands up like I’m scared, like I don’t want to fight, I cry out, “Please don’t hurt me!”

He’s thrown off long enough for me to slice up his middle with a groin-kick, the Krav Maga Handshake. He yelps and doubles over in pain. I hammer-fist the back of his head and he crumbles to the ground as Brendan rushes forward and start railing on Tommy, punching him until he’s unconscious.

We’re both panting, staring at Tommy’s bloodied face and Brendan asks, his chest heaving, “How did you know?”

“His ring!” I gasp. Brendan looks at Tommy’s hand, confused. “Didn’t I tell you the gunman had a silver bull ring?”

“No, you didn’t. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” Brendan looks at me, still in shock. He pulls me to him and crushes me against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Annie.”

“It was all my fault! I shouldn’t have lied to you!”

He pulls back and searches my eyes, his hand pushing my hair back to make sure my neck isn’t bruised. “Fuck, he bruised you. I’m going to fucking kill him!” He releases me and kicks Tommy in the gut. I grab Brendan and yank him back as hard as I can. It’s like trying to stop a train that’s gone off its tracks. He shakes me off and keeps kicking the unconscious body.

Not knowing what else to do, I scream, as loud and shrill and terrified as someone in a horror movie. Brendan freezes and looks at me, dazed and wild-eyed. “He deserves to die!” he mumbles. “He tried to kill us!”

I run in front of him. “Stop! You can’t kill him! I know you want to. I know what he did. But you can’t! I can’t lose you again! You’d go to jail. Do you hear me? You’d go to jail forever!”

Brendan blinks, his sanity fighting to return. He gasps and takes me into his arms as I whisper, “I can’t lose you again. I just can’t!”

His voice is strained and guttural. “You won’t. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Annie! I love you so much.”

I sob into his chest, “I love you, too! I’ve always loved you, Brendan!”

A groan from the floor pulls our attention and we look to see Tommy trying to open his puffy, bloody eyes.

“Call the police. I’ll watch him,” Brendan urges me, yanking his phone from his pocket and handing it to me.

I dial quickly. “I’m glad he bruised me. It’s proof it was self-defense. And they have the blood DNA from that night to prove it was him.”

“Good,” Brendan says, staring at what used to be his friend.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

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