Page 261 of The Last Good Man

He cusses me out while I scream, making him move his focus from my phone to my mouth.

He’s struggling to keep me quiet while I use the opportunity to grab my cell. My thumb swipes the screen, taps the camera, and I start recording.

Some unusual force grows in me as I crawl away from him. He stumbles over a bar stool while I pull behind the kitchen island. I’m still far from the exit, but now I hold my phone up.

“Talk to me, bitch. This is going straight to the tattooed man. Tell him how I owe you something because I didn’t want to sleep with you. Tell him how you got into my house using force and practically assaulted me. Tell him all that. And don’t forget to tell him how you slapped me.”

Blood drips from his hand from where I sunk my teeth into his calloused skin, and he mutters a curse, looking into the camera while I use the opportunity to press stop and send the clip to Jax.

I don’t even know if it went through, if he got it, or if he sees it. I call 911, but my phone doesn’t get the chance to connect with an operator as Ellis lunges at me and pulls my phone out of my hand.

I grab a chair, toss it toward him, and run to the exit when he rushes after me and grabs the back of my hair.

I still can’t believe this is happening to me, and I’m going through it, reacting and fighting without having a second to think things through.

Imanage toescape his grip and reach the main door when I learn he’s locked it.

There isn’t enough time to unlock it as he grabs my shoulders and tosses me on the couch like I’m nothing.

Every timeI try to jerk upright, he pushes me back with force, a maniacal laugh accompanying his moves.

His hand goes to his belt, and I do my best to roll off the sofa and fall away from his legs when someone’s fist hits the door.

“Melody?”

“Oh, he’s here,” Ellis says with the arrogance of someone who hasn’t paid for any of his past mistakes and now can’t believe that he might.

The man has no idea. But his well-being is not my concern. My concern is Jax.

I don’t want him to go back to jail for this dickhead.

“The door is locked,” I scream. “Help me!” I shout.

A few moments pass while I throw things at Ellis when Jax puts his shoulder through the door and catches my aggressor just as he tries to pick me up from the floor by tugging at my hair and hitting me again.

Jax sends his elbow into Ellis's face and catches me as the man falls back like a sack of potatoes.

“Do not kill him,” I bark, but I’m not sure my words make it to his ears. “I don’t want you to go to jail, Jax,” I say as he picks up Ellis and punches him repeatedly.

My aggressor’s face looks like a painter’s easel with only one color smearedacross it. Crimson.

Eventually, he drops him on the floor and turns to me, his cheeks flushed.

“How did this jerk get in?”

“He was outside, waiting. And I didn’t lock the door right away.”

My voice shakes like my body. Like my heart.

“I never thought something like this could happen to me.”

I lean against the wall, unable to walk, while he closes his arms around me.

“I didn’t want this to happen,” I push out.

“It’s not your fault,” he says quietly.

“I didn’t hear your car,” I murmur.

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