Before I can second-guess myself, I pull out my phone.
ME:I love you. I’m going to fight for you.
Not expecting a reply, I stuff my phone away and climb out of the truck.
The second my foot hits the driveway, the hair on the back of my neck stands, and a cold chill snakes down my spine. I glance across the yard and out into the quiet street. It’s after eleven, still and dark. But something feels… wrong.
I reach for the gun Dad insisted I keep in my truck after taking me to the practice range. My fingers just graze the cold metal when something slams into my upper back. A sharp burst of pain radiates down my spine, and I spin just in time to see a man in head-to-toe black raise a baseball bat over his head.
I drop and scramble along the side of the truck, my gun left under the seat.
“Who are you?” I yell, trying to draw attention to myself. My parents aren’t home, so my only hope is that the neighbors will hear.
He stalks after me, slow and sure, like a slasher villain from a horror movie.
Self-preservation kicks in. I start talking, saying whatever I need to get me out of this alive.
“He broke up with me tonight. He isn’t mine anymore.”
He laughs, voice is rough and low. “Oh, I know. He’s finally coming around.”
He lunges, and I try to dodge, but I’m not fast enough. The bat cracks against my shoulder, and I hit the ground, pain exploding in my body. He drops onto me, but the bat is too long for him to get a good swing in.
I throw a punch, then another, my knuckles splitting from the impact. He growls, tossing the bat aside and switching to fists. In the struggle, his ski mask shifts, riding up just enough to reveal part of his jaw and lips before he yanks it back down.
“Why are you doing this?” The words come out breathless, my chest burning from the fight.
“I just need to end this,” he growls. His forearm comes down across my neck, cutting off my air supply. I claw at his arm, but he’s too strong.
He’s straddling my hips, so I thrust up, throwing him off balance. Shoving him off, I scramble to the side. My face throbs from the hits he landed, my right eye already swelling. I just get my feet under me when he catches my ankle and yanks me back down. I crash into the ground, the wind knocked from my lungs. I gasp for breath, but can’t pull any in.
He snags the bat and swings before I can move. It crashes into my jaw, pain erupting through my face and stars exploding in my vision.
“He’ll finally be mine,” he grunts, breathless. He drives the bat into my ribs. Something cracks, and I roll, choking on blood. The pain radiating from my side is excruciating, my energy waning.
He strikes me with the bat, then his boot. I can’t block everything, so I just curl in, making myself as small as possible.
He’s relentless, never letting up on the assault. I don’t have the strength to keep myself curled tight, so I just lie there, exposed and broken, trying to hold onto consciousness.
Through my swollen eyes, I watch him raise the bat again. Hudson flashes in my mind, his smile and warmth filling my memories. This can’t be the end. I need to see him again. Tell him I love him one more time.
I have to fix things.
“Bye-Bye, Cullen.”
He swings down—
A car squeals to a stop on the curb, yelling suddenly filling the night air.
The bat drops, and the man flees into the dark.
“Cullen! Cullen?” My dad’s frantic voice cuts through the dizzy fog in my brain. “Eliza, call 911!”
His hands are all over me, checking for injuries, trying to figure out how bad it is. I feel my eyes starting to roll back, consciousness slipping like water through my fingers.
Everything hurts.
“Stay awake, son. You need to talk to me.”
