Page 114 of Love on the Line

She yanked her head back, then smashed her forehead against his nose. A crunch sounded, and Devon released her, cursing and bringing his hands to his face. Blood gushed from his nostrils. She pivoted and tried to run for the door, but he snaked an arm around her waist, snatching her back.

“Change of plans, bitch. I planned to set a fire, but now I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.” He threw her onto the floor. She landed on her back, and her breath whooshed out. Before she could recover, he straddled her and wrapped his hands around her neck.

He pressed his thumbs into her throat, closing off the airway. His eyes bulged, and blood continued to flow from his nose.

She writhed beneath him and clawed at his hands, gasping for air. Pressure built in her head, and little spots of light appeared before her eyes. God, no. This was how she’d die. She’d never see Wyatt again, or her sisters, or their babies. Her entire life she’d taken care of everyone she loved, keeping her pain to herself and handling her own battles. What she wouldn’t give now for some help. She couldn’t beat this monster on her own.

Tears streamed down the sides of her face, and she thrashed, but nothing loosened Devon’s iron grip. Just as the room began to turn black, he let go.

Someone growled, and his body flew off of hers. She gulped for air, clutching her neck, and looked up to see Wyatt hurl Devon across the room.

“Run. Get out of here,” Wyatt yelled over his shoulder, pure rage in his eyes.

He grabbed Devon, slammed him into the wall, and punched his stomach.

Anne’s heart stopped, and the room blurred as relief quickly turned to dread. Wyatt was still recovering from the last fight. He had two fractures, and now was up against a martial arts expert. She labored to get air through her swollen throat, making her dizzy.

Devon karate chopped Wyatt in the ribs.

Anne cringed. That blow must have landed on his broken one. The bastard had deliberately attacked Wyatt’s weak spot, knowing where to hit.

She pushed off the floor, her gaze darting around the room to find anything she could use as a weapon.

Devon delivered a round kick to the back of Wyatt’s knees, but Wyatt reared up, using his weight and size to smash Devon once again into the wall.

Anne blinked rapidly to try to bring the room into focus. Blood pounded in her ears, keeping time with her throbbing head. She had to do something.

Her gaze locked on the big conch shell Wyatt had given to her at Ocean City. She fumbled to pick it up from the coffee table.

Damn her trembling fingers. Every second mattered.

At last she managed to get a grip.

Seeing double, she staggered toward the men, who struggled in a hold on each other like the wrestlers in a heavyweight match.

Devon freed an arm and gave a sharp whack to Wyatt’s kidneys.

Hot fury fueled Anne’s muscles.

Wyatt let go of Devon, took a quick step back, and punched him hard in the gut, dropping him to his knees.

With Devon’s back to her, this was her chance. She raised her arm, and with all her might, she bashed the shell down onto his head.

He grunted and went limp, sliding the rest of the way to the ground.

Her body collapsed, every ounce of energy draining from her limbs.

Wyatt caught her as sirens sounded and lights flashed through the windows.

“Help is coming. Hang in there, baby.” He wrapped her in his arms, and rocked her, kissing the top of her head. “Oh God. I thought I might have been too late.”

She shook uncontrollably, but the thumping of his heart under her cheek assured her they’d survived. Clenching his body, she melted against him. “I love you so much.”

Together they’d beaten that soulless beast.

The nightmare was over.

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