Page 97 of The Second Kiss
Wood splitter, glass shatters.
“Je-ss-ica, are you here?” Brad’s voice floats up from below. The stairs creak with footsteps.
He’s circling the loft. Swearing under his breath. Tripping over the junk that fills the space. Kicking things aside.
I hold my breath, pushing myself farther into the corner.
Brad laughs. “I know you’re up here. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way—your choice. We have all night. Why don’t you come out and play? You don’t have to—” He stops, and I hear it too.
“Jess?”
The voice sounds far away, too far, but I know it’s Jacob.
I hold in my scream. I’ll only get one. What if he doesn’t hear me? I imagine him walking around our yard. I left the lights off in the house. Brad’s truck is hidden. Jacob won’t know anything is wrong. He’ll think no one is home. He’ll leave.
“Jacob!” I scream.
Brad throws the crate aside. His face is at the opening. I scream again and try to flatten myself against the wall. He grabs my leg. I kick and his nose. He’s bleeding, but still dragging me out. I hang onto the sides of the bin, digging my nails into the walls. He’s too strong. He jerks me through the door. I get another half a scream out before he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Shut up.” He hisses.
I try to bite him again, but his hands move to my throat. I can’t scream. I can't breathe. Black spots form in front of my eyes.
“Jess?” Jacob’s voice is closer.
Brad turns towards the stairs. His grip loosens.
With all the breath I have left, I scream, “Jacob!”
Running footsteps. Brad drops me then kicks me in the stomach, knocking any breath I have left out of me. Sparks of pain behind my eyes blind me. I curl up in a ball.
Jacob is on the stairs. “Jess!”
I can’t answer. My stomach rolls with pain and nausea.
He’s beside me, bent over in the dark. “Jess! What happened?”
“Brad,” I gasp. Brad is behind him. He swings a wooden bat. Jacob turns and ducks. The bat glances off his forehead, knocking him to the floor. He sits stunned while Brad circles, waiting for another opportunity to strike. As soon as Brad gets close enough, Jacob jumps to his feet and pummels him. They crash against the wall.
I scoot into the corner, away from the struggle. My hand brushes against cold metal. I curl my hand around it, pulling it towards me. Tyler’s twenty-two. The one he uses to shoot barn pigeons. I grasp the gun with both hands and pull myself up.
Jacob is bleeding from a cut above his eye. Brad’s nose is dripping blood. They’re struggling for control of the bat. I level the gun at Brad. He’s too close to Jacob. I can’t get a clean shot. Jacob trips backwards over a pile of cords. Brad falls on top of him.
“Stop!” I yell. Brad looks up at me. Jacob shoves him to the side. I pull the trigger.
The shot is deafening.
Jacob doesn’t move. I’m frozen with the gun to my shoulder, my finger still on the trigger.
After forever, I find my breath. “Did I kill him?”
Jacob moves to the still, bleeding shape on the floor.
Brad moans.
“He’ll live. You just grazed his hip. I thought you said you were an excellent shot.”
“I wasn’t trying to...to kill him,” my voice shakes. The gun in my hand trembles. “I didn’t want him to hurt you.”
Jacob takes the gun from me and leans it against the wall. “Are you okay?” He brushes the hair back from my face. He touches my chin. “You’re bleeding.”
