“You’re not going anywhere until?—“
I pull a bill from my wallet and drop it on the table without looking at her. “I get the message, Yolanda.”
“I’m not finished?—“
She cuts off when my eyes flick up to her. “Yes, you are.”
Her mouth falls open, eyes wide with indignation. I leave her like that, hurrying to the door. My phone buzzes again, forcing me into a trot. The cold air hits my face as I shove through the door, and I shoulder aside a couple as they enter.
“Hey! Watch it?—”
But I’m already past them.
I’m behind the wheel of my car before I’ve fully processed the alerts on my phone, jamming the gearshift into reverse, tires squealing against the pavement.
Hollow Way’s quaint storefronts blur as I speed down the street. I run a red light. Then another. A horn blares somewhere behind me, but it’s just meaningless noise.
My grip makes the leather steering wheel creak.
The drive back to my property usually takes around eleven minutes.
I make it in six.
My headlights bounce through the darkness between the trees as gravel sprays against my car’s chassis.
My house comes into view.
I slam the car into park, leaping out and nearly losing my balance on the gravel. Racing up to my front door. Hand flying off the handle when I try to rip it open before my security system can register my proximity and unlock the door.
It opens on the second tug, and I rush inside like the motherfucking idiot I am.
Pain explodes against the side of my head.
I stumble sideways, hand catching the edge of the door, slamming it shut as I fall back against it, nearly losing my footing. Through the ringing in my ears, I hear a scream that’s equal parts terror and triumph.
“Ah!”
Melissa swings the fire poker again, and I barely duck in time.
Iron whistles past my head, smashing into the doorframe with a crack that sends splinters flying. I stagger into the foyer, trying to get my bearings, but she’s already coming at me again—wild-eyed and feral and nothing like the docile creature I left behind.
“Melissa—”
“Stay away from me, youfreak!”
She swings again. I throw up my arm, forearm coruscating with pain at the impact.
My yell nearly drowns out hers.
The agony pulls me back into my body with a snap. Adrenaline chases through my blood vessels, as ancientneurological systems hard-wired for survival flip on like a light switch.
When she comes at me again, I catch the poker shaft mid-arc and wrench it sideways. She clings to her weapon with utter desperation, sending us both crashing into the table by the door when the poker doesn’t leave her grip like I’d expected.
A vase shatters.
The bowl where I normally toss my keys wobbles precariously before joining it in a hail of glass. Melissa ends up sprawled on top of me, screaming, kicking, clawing at my face with her free hand as she tries to tug the poker free.
When her nails rake across my throat and I feel my skin split, Bad Wolf howls.
