My heart stopped as I turned in the doorway, facing back toward the hall. He was supposed to be out of town.
“I worked hard to find the exact right thing to write.”
His gravelly voice sent chills down my spine.
I didn’t know how I’d missed it, but the hallway smelled of Eric’s cologne and the door to the Master bedroom was open. He’d been inside when I arrived. Andrew’s text had put me so much at ease I’d missed the obvious clues.
The takeout containers on the kitchen counter took on a whole new meaning. The contractor hadn’t left them behind.
Eric had been staying at my house.
“I see you got your voice back,” he said as I turned to face him.
He looked the same as he always had. Nasty and mean.
“You look fine,” he said as he licked his lips.
I willed myself not to freeze up.
“What are you doing here?” The words were supposed to come out strong and confident, but they weren’t much more than a whisper.
He smirked and edged closer. He kept his body between me and the exit. There was nowhere to run.
“I figured you’d show up here at some point,” he said. “I’ve been sleeping here for a month and nobody’s figured it out.”
“You need to leave.” My throat felt thick, but I was proud my words were audible. I’d been terrified of this man for so long. Part of me wished he was still dead, though in some ways death had cheated me of vengeance. He’d never had to pay for hurting me. Nobody had known his dirty secret or that he was an abusive creep. It hadn’t affected his life, only mine.
He grabbed my wrist.
Eric was stronger than I was and knew how to hit. I’d been on the receiving end dozens of times. I remained calm while confronting him, and breathed. Our last encounter had been in the dark. I’d been terrified and drugged. This time, I was on my home turf.
I waited for my moment. It came sooner than expected. Eric jerked me toward him, trying to tow me down the hall toward the Master bedroom. I used his motion against him, breaking his hold by yanking my arm up sharply toward my head and stepping forward. I’d sworn that I wouldn’t hurt anyone, but I needed to protect myself. If he got hurt, it was his fault, not mine. Now I knew better.
As I moved inward, I elbowed him as hard as I could in the chest and slammed the heel of my hand upward into his chin, smashing his chin backward. His neck snapped back and his teeth rattled. I followed up with a hard knee to the groin and he dropped to the ground. He had to be seeing stars, but for good measure, I kicked him again and ran.
I ran to the front door, but not out. If I left him here, he’d disappear again, and I’d always be looking over my shoulder. I had to finish this.
He was groaning on the floor when I called 911, my hands shaking.
“Emergency, 911.”
“There’s an intruder in my house. He’s attacked me before. Send help to 423 Laurel Lane. Please hurry.”
“Officers dispatched. Please stay on the line.”
I said nothing, but clutched the phone to my chest while I waited for the police. My hands shook and my heart raced. Eric must have heard my phone call. The hallway was quiet, but I would have heard if he’d tried to open a window. He was biding his time to make a move. My knees shook as sirens neared. Eric had stopped moaning, but he was still in the house. From my vantage, I watched both the front door and the back. Each second felt like an eternity as I waited, wondering when he’d strike. When the police car arrived, I opened the front door and stepped aside. Two police officers sped past me and into the house.
Eric bolted out of the hallway and roared, head down. He charged like an enraged bull, trying to bash his way free. He got past both officers and flung himself toward the open door.
I couldn’t let him get away.
Time slowed as I tripped him. He lost his balance, but his momentum kept him in motion. At the top of the stairs, he flailed his arms in a vain attempt to keep from falling. Instead, he careened down my front stairs, landing on the sidewalk on his face with a sickening thud. He lay stunned for a moment, but he wasn’t dead. He twitched.
Another police car arrived, sirens on, lights flashing, and Andrew flung himself from the car. He and Officer Park ran from the street and the two officers emerged from the kitchen and converged at the bottom of the stairs, guns trained on Eric. One of his legs was bent at an impossible angle and he screamed in pain as he struggled to rise. He glared at me where I stood at the top of the stairs.
“Fucking bitch. Next time, I’ll take a baseball bat to your face,” he spat.
The fall had knocked out his two front teeth—lost in the impact with the concrete. Blood oozed from between his lips and drooled down his chin in two long streams as he spoke.
