Page 55 of Labria

Gianni took a step toward me, closing in on the ten feet distance and reducing it to a mere nine. He had an evil glare in his sinister looking eyes. Looking at him, it was sinking in. He was going to really kill me. He was salivating like a lion ready to pounce on a gazelle.

I took a deep breath and waited for him to make a move. I had one hand on the hardcover book. I was going to fight him to the death. My memory bounced back to the one self-defense class I took on a Saturday afternoon at the Gracie Barra Martial Arts School with my sister. What did I remember? What did I forget? Was it a knee, elbow combo or something like that? I needed my muscle memory to kick into gear.

He was ogling me, and I ogled him back.

“Back the fuck up!” I roared.

Gianni just grinned like the joker, the Jack Nicholson one, not the Heath and Joaquin ones. He lunged for me. I grabbed the book with one hand and was able to connect to my other hand and smash him across the side of his face with all the force I had in my arms.

The damage was minimal. He stumbled but didn’t fall. He dove at me and knocked me onto the bed table. I had gone from standing to sitting. I was kicking my feet out at him, but he had his hand wrapped around my neck. His squeeze wasn’t enough to render me unconscious because I was struggling too much for him to get a proper grip. My fingernails clawed at his arms but weren’t long to reach his ugly ass face.

My fighting had stopped as soon as a felt the gun knock into the side of my head.

“Bitch stop! I will blow your fucking brains out!” He held my throat and rammed my head back into the wall behind me. It hurt like hell but didn’t knock me out.

I went limp. “Okay, Okay.” I choked out the muffled words as he applied pressure on my throat.

This crazed bastard loosened his firm grip and pulled me to my feet. He removed the gun from my face. “On the bed.” He waved to gun to signal toward the bed.

There was no way in hell I was getting on the bed. I acted like I was going to get on the bed and instead kneed him in the groin with all I had. I sprinted to the right, trying to run around him. He grabbed me by my waist and sent me hurling across the room and into the armoire. My body crashed to the floor. I struggled to get on my feet and he aided this by grabbing my ponytail and lifting me to my feet. He had my hair in his grip and twisted my neck. I clawed at him, but was still led back over to the bed. He released my hair.

We were face-to-face and close enough for me to cock my fist back and punch him in his chin. The uppercut only pissed him off.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelped. When he opened his mouth, I noticed the blood in his mouth. I made him bite his lip or tongue. It was a small win, but it gave me hope that I might make it out of here alive.

My hope faded when he released my throat and punched me in the face. The force of his fist sent me falling back onto the bed. That was the last place I wanted to be. I hurriedly scooted backwards, trying to desperately move faster than him. He was on top of me sooner than expected, but I kicked and clawed at him, wishing the gun didn’t go off in the midst of the struggle.

I wiggled my way to the edge of the bed on the side that lead to the door of my bedroom. Gianni didn’t let up. His heavy weight pressed against my body. He only lifted to grab at my breasts. He groped me with his grimy hands. I squinted my eyes as he felt me up. I opened my eyes and right near my face was his hand on the gun. With a slight movement of my head, I sunk my teeth into the wrist and bite down as hard as I could.

“Ugh!” He bellowed, releasing the gun and his firm grip of my breast.

I scooted upwards, and he was right back on me. I dug my feet into the mattress and pushed up as hard as I could. This sent both of us careened off the bed and onto the floor. My back hit the floor with a hard thud. His weight fell right on top of me, knocking the wind out of my chest.

I inhaled and tussled with him as he shoved his hands down my shorts. I refused to let this happen. I grabbed his hair and twisted it. I could feel his hot breath heating my earlobe. Was it better to zone out and let it happen or was I going to fight to the death?

I picked the battle. I wasn’t stronger than him, but I knew goddamn well I was smarter than him. I turned my head away from his face and that’s when I saw it.

I was Lord’s side of the bed. I peeked under the bed and there was my life jacket, my inflatable raft. There was the damn coastguard. The hand I was using to beat Gianni in the back was the same hand I used to reach under the bed and grab the Ruger that was holstered under the bed. It was right there, just waiting for me to use my brain, my heart and my courage.

My arm was long enough and with the Ruger firmly planted in my palm, I lifted the piece to the side of the monster’s head. I let one round off in his temple.

BLAM!

Blood— it splattered all over my face and in my mouth. He was slumped on top of me with his head down on my shoulder. He was moving, and this was the first time I wished another human being was dead. I used all the strength I had left in my body to push his dead weight off of me.

Chapter Eighteen

LABRIA

Icould hear myself gasping for air. I could feel my chest heaving up and down. I tilted my head to the side and looked over at him lying flat on his back. I struggled to sit up and stared at him for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to jump up and come alive like a monster in a horror film.

Time moved slowly and I couldn’t figure out how long I had been sitting next to this dead man. I had killed someone. There was blood. There were brains, and there was this heart stopping silence.

My cell phone. Where was it? I stumbled to my feet, feeling woozy and disorientated. I looked down the length of my arm and I was still holding the gun in my hand. Scurrying around the bed and over to the table. I searched for my phone. I found it partially hidden under the bed.

I was coming back into my body. The first call I made was to Lord. My mind wasn’t working clearly. Why didn’t I remember he’d flown to New York? It was two o’clock here, and I didn’t know what time I was in there. When he didn’t pick up his phone, I didn’t leave him a message. Calling him was a mistake. There was nothing he could do.

I think I’m in shock.

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