Page 64 of Cain
I can barely breathe. Fear is loud. And it is blooming inside me.
“You telling stories to your new boyfriend about me?”
I keep backing up, my eyes scanning.
My phone that I just set on the side table at the entrance.
Random keys on the kitchen counter next to three envelopes. Bills.
Cast iron pan on the stove. Too far.
I still have my bag on my shoulder. I still have Cain’s keys in my hand.
“I should’ve finished what I started in Seattle.” He steps closer and closer.
His hand shoots out. I duck, but not fast enough. He grabs my wrist, twisting hard. Pain radiates through my arm, but I stay on my feet.
He swings. This time, I move. His fist grazes my shoulder. I jam the keys into his face and dig in.
He screams.
I got his eye. There’s blood everywhere.
“Bitch,” he howls and comes at me.
I slam my bag into him. There are two hardbacks in it. What do they say about the pen being mightier than the sword?
He stumbles, cursing, and grabs a lamp. He hurls it at me. I duck. Glass shatters behind me.
We’re in the kitchen now.
I grab the cast-iron pan.
When he lunges, I swing.
The sound is dull, sickening. Jamie groans, drops to his knees. I hit him again. And then once more.
He’s groaning, blood on his face, trying to get up from the floor.
I hit him again, not caring if he lives or dies.
I don’t care, I scream silently. I just want him tostop.
He collapses. He’s out. He isn’t moving.
Rage burns out of me.
I stand over him, panting, heart racing.
The room is silent.
With almost what feels like calm, I grab my phone that I set on the counter and call Cain.
“He found me,” I whisper. “Jamie. I...I stopped him.”
“I’m on my way,” he says. “In five. Kyle is?—”
The door bursts open, and Kyle comes in, weapon in hand. He looks down at Jamie and then at me.
