Page 66 of Tex's Angel

“Why my hair?” I ask. I realize that shutting my damn mouth is the obvious go-to move in this situation, but I just have to know.

He gives a lock of my hair a yank so strong, I think he might have pulled it out by the roots. Then he asks, “Do you remember what you said to me the day I came to your home?”

Truthfully, I can’t remember much about that day because I was so scared. “I can’t remember my exact words,” I tell him.

“I was losing my mind because you just tore my whole damn world apart. I came with the intention of trying to talk to you, but you told me that I stank, you destroyed my life, and you humiliated me.”

I don’t remember saying that, but I do vaguely remember that he looked a mess, with long greasy hair and unwashed clothing. “I see how this situation must have a certain amount of symmetry in your own mind. You’re hurting me all the same ways that I hurt you.”

“No,” he says harshly. “In order for that to happen, I’d have to permanently separate you and that biker you’ve fallen so hard and fast for. That’s what you did to me after all.”

I try and get him off the subject of me and Tex. Instead I decide to ask about Gemma. It sounds like I was his first orderof business after he got released. I wonder if he knows where Gemma moved to, he’s not going to get that information out of me, that’s for sure. “Were you ever able to make contact with Gemma after it all went down?”

He slams the scissors down on the table and walks out the front door, not bothering to close it after himself.

I guess that was clearly the wrong question to ask. However, it just might provide me with the opportunity to escape that I’ve been looking for.

It takes me a few minutes to move the heavy table back using only my stomach, but I finally shift it enough to slide out of the seat. I pad to the front door and peer out. I’ve got to get out of here, because I know all the way down to my bones that this crazy ass guy is going to keep toying with me until he accidentally loses his temper and kills me in a fit of rage. I can see it as plain as day.

I turn around backwards and grope around with both hands until I feel the cold steel of the scissors touch my skin. I grab them, thinking I might be able to use them to get out of the handcuffs once I get away from this man. I sneak cautiously over to the front door and peer out. He’s standing a good distance away at the edge of a little pond. I watch him pace back and forth and lift his face to the sky.

This is clearly my one and only chance, so I can’t waste it standing there staring at Mister Crazy Pants. I get my ass moving. I’m barefooted because the bastard took my shoes at some point. But I don’t let that slow me down. I run out onto the porch, down the steps, and towards the direction I remember the road being. I try not to make a sound and run like my life depends upon it because it absolutely does. Never in my entirelife have I ever been as scared as I am right now. The fear is mind numbing, causing me to take chances I wouldn’t otherwise take.

I don’t even care that my bare feet are being jabbed by rocks, sticks, and pinecones that hurt like hell. I don’t let anything stop me. I don’t know how long I’ve been running or how far I’ve gotten before I hear his full throated scream of fury at realizing I’m gone.

It only spurs me to run faster in the near pitch darkness. At one point I stumble and fall but struggle to my feet again and keep running. Somehow, I manage to keep a hold of those damn scissors.

I begin to notice that after the fall, my cuffs have become a bit looser. Pulling on them as I run seems like the kind of double tasking that just might save my life. So, I keep jerking at them as I run. Just when I start thinking that he’ll never catch me because it’s dark outside, something huge slams into me from behind. We both tumble to the ground. The next thing I know, he’s on top of me. His face is enraged.

I try to worm my way out of his hold. When that doesn’t work, I bring up my leg and knee him in his back as hard as I can. It doesn’t do anything but make him angrier. He lifts my shoulders and slams me back down on the ground, driving the air from my lungs. I feel a sharp pain in my lower back where the handcuffs dig in.

He snarls, “Stop fighting me, you bitch.”

The force of him sitting on me after throwing me down the way he did finally breaks the cheap handcuffs he used to restrain my wrists. When his hands move up as if he’s going to grab my neck, I twist my body sideways so I can use the scissorsI’ve been hanging on to so diligently. I grab them and they feel sticky. Pushing that thought away, I dig deep down inside and snatch up every bit of courage I still have to do the unthinkable. Before he can stop me, I plunge the scissors into him with all my might.

His eyes go wide, and he yells, “Ow, that fucking hurt!”

When he twists and tries to grab for the scissors, I realize that I nailed him right where his shoulder meets body. The arm on that side has gone limp and my hands are free. For one brief moment I’m foolish enough to think this will even the odds.

Then he pulls the scissors out of his body and gives me a look of pure loathing. “I wanted to take my time and make you pay for fucking imploding my world but since you’re proving to more trouble than you’re worth, I’m gonna finish you off and disappear.”

His hand shoots up in the air and I bring my arms up to ward off his attack as best I can as the scissors come down towards my face. He’s aiming for my eyes, so I bring up one arm over my face and the other over my throat, knowing that leaves my chest wide open. The final bit of hope I had of escaping disappears in that second.

I must be in a full blown panic because all I can hear is roaring in my ears that sound like the hooves of a hundred horses. When I hear the sound of a gunshot, something wet splashes across my arms and Daniel slumps on top of me, feeling like a dead weight. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize the roaring in my ears is motorcycle engines. They found me!

I try to get up and realize I can’t because Daniel is crushing me. The next thing I know, Tex drags Daniel off me. Ican hear voices in the background, and I know he’s brought his brothers with him.

When his big warm hand strokes my cheek. I want to say thanks for saving me, but the words get stuck in my throat. I try to move but I can’t and there’s an agonizing pain in my lower back.

Tex leans down to wipe something off my face. “Y’all look like you’ve been through hell and back, sugar.”

The emotion in his voice gets to me like nothing else ever has. “Thank you,” I finally choke out as he starts to fuss over me.

“Y’all don’t have to thank me. When you’re in danger, I’ll always come for you.”

I try to nod but suddenly I remember something that seems important. “When I escaped, I had the scissors, I managed to keep a hold of them when he caught up with me and pushed me to the ground. When I stabbed him, they felt sticky.”

Tex freezes in place for a second and his eyes flicker down to my wrists, where each end of the handcuffs are still attached. Another long string of curses comes out of his mouth as he pales. “He had your hands cuffed behind your back and you fell on the scissors, right?”

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