Page 16 of Forgotten Vows
Inching further, I stretched my arm out to see if I could grab the handle for the other door. It was locked, but I worked myshaky fingers out until I shoved the metal in. It fit. I strained my wrist to turn the knob. It gave way and I scurried inside.
I shut it and locked it, gasping when I dared to breathe again.
The suited man jogged through the backyard, clearly scoping out the property for me. But he didn’t try to get in.
It didn’t matter yet if he did.
Someone else was already in here.
I heard one press of a shoe on the floor behind me, and that was all the warning I had.
Once more holding in my breath, I spun with my keys between my fingers to strike out at the other guy. I hadn’t counted on more than one watching me. Now that I was aware, every defensive instinct came to full force.
Also dressed in a suit, this other man flung out to backhand me. He moved as a blur, too quick for me to track closely. I was fortunate that my instincts never faded. I was always on and always listening and looking for trouble. But right now, as I grabbed a lamp off a table to swing at him again, I was luckier yet for having some training in fighting back. Combat wasn’t my strength, but I wasn’t a naïve coward.
I would never be a coward when it came to saving myself and my son.
He growled, yelling loudly in a sound more animalistic than human as I kicked and got him between his legs. Just like that, all through the living room, we fought and wrestled.
The loud clang of metal on the floor alerted me to the fact he’d lost hold of his gun. But I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t still armed. No matter how much bigger and taller he was, I was fighting with more than just the need to harm me for the sake of a boss’s orders to take out a hit or kidnap. I fought with the vengeance of a protective mother who’d stop at nothing to care for her son.
Furniture was soon splintered and cracked in a broken mess as we fought in my home. Glass lay scattered on the floor. Dishes fell from shelves. The entire area was in disarray, a total scene of destruction, but still, I didn’t stop.
He hit me, and I kicked him. Then vice versa. He tried to grab me and choke me, and I dodged him and slammed him into the walls.
We weren’t quiet about it, but in the end of him trying to end my life, I managed to get the upper hand. Wrapping a length of a fallen piece of curtains around his neck, I focused on strangling him until he ceased moving.
Ragged from the exertion of fighting, then killing him, I let him drop to the floor. He slumped onto the mess, and I almost went down with him.
I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t slow my heart. So tired and worn out, I hunched over with my hands on my knees, willing my body not to collapse. Not yet. Not here. Not?—
The front door opened, startling me as Eliot rushed in. That had to have been how this man got in, breaking in that way. But now, it was my alarmed and wide-eyed neighbor who gaped at the scene. “Mrs. Peterson? Are you all right? I heard this ruckus and?—”
I gritted my teeth, knowing I was still in danger. He was too. That other suit was out there. As I lunged forward to push Eliot out of the house, the man revealed himself as he rushed in behind my neighbor. The blast of his gun going off scared Eliot. He cursed, ducking down and seeming ready to take me with him. But I couldn’t lose that time. I couldn’t lose this edge. Operating with an offensive energy was the only way I could bank on using this element of surprise on these men.
While Eliot dropped, I spun around him and charged into my stalker. He fired his gun again, likely as a reflex instead of aiming it, but it didn’t matter. In the frenzy of action, Eliot slipped andknocked his head on the edge of a table. Then the intruder fell back too, perhaps not counting on me to barrel into him like that. After a slight scuffle, I punched and struck the man until I got his gun.
He withdrew another as his lips bled. Heaving for air as he lay on the floor from my attack, he aimed his gun at Eliot, who was still unconscious but breathing.
“Don’t,” he warned, taking the safety off.
I didn’t flinch. No longer afraid of danger reaching me, I narrowed my eyes at him and stuck with this ride of violence. Danger washere. Right here. It was pointless to fear the unknown now. My nightmare was realized and the time to do something about it was here. All I could do was act.
I didn’t hesitate, shooting the man between his legs. He cried out, screaming at the pain, but I didn’t wait. He dropped his gun to put his hands on his wound. As I pressed my foot down on where I’d shot him, he thrust his hands there to push my shoe off.
“You won’t win, you bitch.”
Win? I was instantly confused at his choice of words. I wasn’t fighting or playing any fucking game at all. I wasn’t even in his world, whoever the hell he worked for, to be a contender to win or lose anything.
Lowering to press the end of the gun’s barrel to his temple, I grabbed his tie and forced him to look at me. This place was a mess. Blood marred my skin. I was bruised and exhausted. But it wasn’t like I’d be staying here to deal with it. Getting up close and gritty to sneer at this asshole, I demanded an answer.
“Who sent you?”
“Fuck y?—”
I smacked him with the gun and asked again.
“Go to?—”
