Page 97 of Meet Me in Montreal

Vanessa jumped over the coffee table and into the asshole, launching the full force of her body into him before he could follow through on the next hit. She sank her nails into his face and despite his sweat, they made purchase. With a fierce cry, she raked downward, gouging hard, and ripping flesh as he howled.

“Ah, youbitch!” he swore.

He turned and his fist landed on her temple so hard it made her head whip back. The meaty sound of flesh against flesh wasalmost as awful as the flaring pain. Then he picked her up and threw her back into the corner near the window.

Slowly, painfully, she got to her feet. They squared off, him panting and wincing while he touched the bloody strips of his ruined cheek, her heaving and coughing from the agony radiating from her face and her back. Then he was coming for her with renewed and determined fury.

She was now trapped by fire on three sides. He was blocking the only path left. Frantically, she searched for something, anything she could use to defend herself. The only thing she saw in her little zone was a giant quartz stone on a decorative pedestal. Snatching up the quartz, she struggled to raise it over her head. It was enormous, not something designed to stroll around with.

Her back and shoulder muscles screamed at her, but she held it aloft, arms shaking, using every ounce of her strength.

“You picked the wrong day for this shit. Fuck you!” she shouted and when he lunged at her, she brought the jagged chunk down squarely on his skull.

The stone landed right where she’d aimed it, the blow of the heavy rock making him stagger backward. Now was her only chance to run past, but her attacker threw himself in her path and they both fell.

She landed on the hardwood with a crash that knocked whatever air was left in her lungs and smacked the daylights out of her head.

Woozy, in a state of shock, she felt his fingers scrabble to gain purchase on her leg, then her shorts, heaving himself on top of her. She twisted her head to look at him and through the smoke that clouded her eyes, she could discern that his head was bleeding freely from a huge gash.

The blood was pouring like warm water on her back and down her side. He might have been strong, might crush her with his weight, but he was dazed and hurting because of her hit.

Good. If that was the last thing she’d accomplish in this world, even if she couldn’t save herself or anyone else, she’d be satisfied with that.

34

UNDER THE GUN

SANTINO

His nerves were jumping. Antoinette hadn’t been in the house all that long, but each second that ticked away was a small eternity. It didn’t help that the heat seemed to be peaking as the sun’s rays were absorbed by the roof of the car and the road beneath it, even on this tree-lined street. He turned the AC on, closing his eyes for a moment to indulge in the coolness, then resumed his watch. Someone knocked on the roof and he could have jumped out of his fucking skin.

It was Bobby, his face marred with deep concern.

“What are you doing out here, man?” Bobby asked, bending down to look at him after he rolled down the window. “Why are you sitting in this car like this? It’s not even yours.” While Santino stared at him, unable to think of a good reason for this fast enough, Bobby looked up at the house. “Is Zoe in there with Vanessa?”

“What?” Shocked a second time, Santino asked, “Why would Zoe be in there?”

“I drove past her truck on the way here. It’s parked around that corner.” Bobby indicated the street to the right. Santino craned his neck but couldn’t see the truck from where he sat, that rock in his stomach only growing bigger. “Mom said she’s been gone for hours. I swear, if she’s in there fucking with Vanessa again…”

“What are you doing here?” Santino asked, hoping to turn the attention off himself.

“Vanessa’s upset. I told her I’d come by. I’d better —” He stood up and his eyes widened. “What the fuck is that? What is that?” Then he took off, sprinting at top speed like a seasoned athlete.

“What? What’s what?” Santino looked back at the house and what he saw made his blood freeze, then erupt in a boil.

Thin tendrils of smoke were rolling up from under the roof of the first story toward the sky. And that sky, which had been white before with the heat, was now turning yellow as the smoke obscured the ball of the sun, turning it a strange light ash color.

Blue sun, yellow sky.

He’d turned away from it for a second,a second. What had happened? Despite the sheer, wild panic that tried to seize him, Santino’s years in the department kicked in. He jumped out of the car, quickly scanning the house he knew intimately. The roof didn’t look compromised, but this house had been built at least thirty years ago with primarily wood construction and who knew how long it would stay sound. Fire danced in the front windows to the right and the left.

Bobby was banging on the front door, but he howled in pain when he tried touching the doorknob and snatched his hand away.

“Call 911,” Santino shouted at him.

While Bobby pulled out his phone and called, his voice shaking, Santino popped open the trunk. His pulse hammered in his throat as he pulled out what he’d told Dom never to touch,even though it was his car. It was a replica of what Santino carried in his own, just so he’d never be without it, no matter what car he was in.

It wasn’t department issued. This one was a personal possession. He pulled out the axe and headed for the front door.

---