Page 100 of The Breakdown

“No. You weren’t. You—you’re nothing, Natalie. Nothing. I was all you had.”

She fought back her rising anger. She’d heard the words before. Too many times and not just from him. Well, she no longer believed them.

“You’re wrong,” she said, unable to hold her tongue. “All of you are wrong.”

He stopped spinning the gun and looked at her closely. “What did you say?”

“I said, you’re wrong, Allen. I am something. I am worthy. And I am so much better without you.”

He lifted the gun again but seemed to have trouble holding it up. He blinked as if trying to maintain focus.

“Go ahead,” she said, thinking of all the times she’d been told she was nothing, thinking of all the neglect and emotional abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her derelict foster parents. Then she thought of all the times she felt totally alone. She’d had no one. Not a soul. But she’d survived. And she’d survive now. On her own. With good, kind people who cared about in her life for moral support. She didn’t need Allen or anyone. She wanted Vaughn. There was a difference. But if Vaughn didn’t want her, that was okay too. She’d move on. She’d find peace. Rebuild her life all over again.

“Do it,” she said, feeling fearless for the first time in her life. “Shoot me. Because I’d rather be dead than be with you.”

He grinned, but it fell away quickly. His glossy eyes hardened. “Don’t tempt me, Natalie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“What, did you finally grow some balls?”

“No, Allen. I finally grew some ovaries. And I’m ready to go to hell and back to fight you now.”

“So, it’s true. You’ve been shacking up with that woman and she’s toughened you up, turned you all dyke on me.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t been shacking up with anyone. This is me. All me.”

“Bullshit,” he slurred. “You left me for her. You’re a fucking dyke. No wonder why you were always so difficult. So fucking frigid.”

“No, Allen, that was all you.”

He lunged, like he was going to go for her. She startled but remained seated, heart hammering. She kept talking, driving the daggers home.

“I left you because of you. You were sadistic and abusive and the worst human being I’ve ever known. And I left this time because you were harassing me, threatening me, and having me followed. None of it has to do with anyone else. It’s all you. So, for once in your life take some responsibility.”

With that, she stood, slowly and carefully, and walked to the door. Her heart careened in her chest and she felt like she might pass out, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other. Allen screamed at her and she heard his chair scrape across the tile as he stood to come after her. His cries for her to stop grew closer but she didn’t. She reached the door and grabbed the handle and turned to pull it open.

There, on the front stoop, was Vaughn, looking as pale as ever and thoroughly concerned as her gaze moved beyond Natalie to Allen behind her. Then, as her eyes widened, a shot rang out and Natalie felt a jolt. She looked down at her hands, to her abdomen and saw blood. She looked back up at Vaughn’s horrified face and fell to the floor.

Chapter Forty-four

“No!” Vaughn shouted, trying to catch Natalie as she fell. She knelt to help her, to try to get her back up. But she was limp in her arms and Vaughn was too weak to pull her away, her back screaming at her in agony.

She looked to the man, who she assumed was Allen. He was staring at Natalie, eyes glossed over, spent gun trembling in his hand. He appeared to be in shock. Vaughn took advantage and charged him, as fast as she could, pain be damned, letting out a low roar as she slammed into him, barreling him backward. He got another shot off before he crashed into the table and she landed atop him, on the floor. She pushed herself up, a burning stab of pain in her shoulder, and began to choke him. But her strength had dwindled from the charge and the tackle, and her shoulder, something was wrong with her shoulder. She squeezed as hard as she could, but he fought her off easily, hitting her in the temple with the butt of the gun. She fell off him and lay crumpled on the ground, fading in and out of consciousness, her blurry vision trying to focus on Natalie’s still form, lying in a heap by the door.

“Natalie,” she said, blinking back tears. “Run.” But Natalie didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her. Vaughn heard movement to her right. She shifted her gaze and saw Allen getting to his feet. He staggered, got his bearings, and stood above her, gun aimed at her head.

“Fucking dyke,” he said. Drool oozed down his chin as he wavered again. “I’m gonna kill you. Just like I killed Natalie.”

“Natalie,” she said again. She couldn’t be dead. No. She wanted to grab his leg and pull him down. Climb atop him again and strangle the life out of him. Squeeze him until his eyes bulged. But she couldn’t move, could hardly manage to blink as darkness threatened. “Fuck you,” she whispered.

A raucous laugh came from him and the last thing she saw before unconsciousness took her was June stepping into the doorway, shotgun aimed.

And then, a loud blast.

Chapter Forty-five

The blast sent June back on her heels and she stumbled over the threshold and fell on her rear. To her horror, the bearded man came for her. Her shot had missed him and blown a hole in the wall above him instead. She clamored backward, catching sight of Natalie on the floor before her, and Vaughn just beyond that. They weren’t moving, weren’t awake.

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