Page 90 of Hating the Boss

She quickly reached out and grabbed Sarah’s friend by the hair, taking her by surprise. Sarah let out a scream as she watched her friend be shoved to the ground. Her friend screamed as her body hit the sidewalk, landing in a heap.

“What the hell?” the cop asked himself, his attention pulled away from me and reciting my Miranda rights. He quickly reached for his radio hooked to his belt, but not taking his gun from my back.

“I need backup. 814 St. John’s Place,” he said.

“Please. Help her,” I pleaded.

“You keep quiet,” he snapped, jutting the gun into my spine.

I watched in horror as Angela turned toward Sarah and took two swift steps toward her before shoving her into the brick wall behind her. Sarah’s face twisted in pain as her head bounced off the red brick. Angela quickly grabbed Sarah’s neck and I realized she had no intention of letting go as her fingers tightened.

Chapter 35 Sarah

My head slammed into the brick wall and everything went black for a few moments. Pain seared the back of my head, shooting toward my temples and my eyes, running down my neck. I quickly blinked, tears escaping as I tried to hold onto the sunlight and stay steady on my feet. I could feel Angela’s fingers tightening around my neck, her long burgundy fingernails pressing into my skin. My eyes widened as I tried to catch my breath, but found it impossible. Angela’s eyes bore into mine, an out of control look pooled in her blue eyes. It was like staring at an ocean on fire. I knew she wouldn’t stop until I was dead.

Brittany’s screams bounced off the brick building and shouts for help sounded from others, but Angela’s hand grew tighter against my throat. So tight, I thought my bones might break if I didn’t pass out first.

“Stay back!” screamed Angela to anyone who dared interfere. She said it so threateningly, she could have had a gun or a knife on her for all I knew. The thought sent a shiver up my spine. I didn’t know what she was capable of.

She seemed crazed enough that whoever was nearby listened, including Brittany, who was now begging Angela to stop. I felt my vision begin to blur, the sounds of my best friend the only thing I focused on.

“I told you to stay away from him,” Angela spat.

“I did,” I choked, squinting at her, but all I saw was red.

“Then why is he here?” she sneered, her thumb finding the indent of my throat and pushing against it.

Brad was here? I looked around frantically, my head still firmly pressed against the wall. I spotted him a few feet away. As my eyes tried to focus, I saw he was on his knees, his hands behind his head, watching helplessly as a cop was placing handcuffs on him. I wanted to cry out for him, but I couldn’t. Even though I was on the verge of passing out, I couldn’t help but worry about him.

My eyes locked on Angela’s and I felt a rush of anger that this woman was trying to take everything I loved away from me.

My life. My sister. My best friend. Brad. The baby.

The baby.

I wouldn’t let her. With every bit of strength I had left in me, I kneed her in the stomach causing her to release my throat as she doubled over. I sucked in a gasp of a breath, trying to fill my lungs. The blur in my vision began to clear.

“You bitch!” Angela gasped, as she looked up at me.

She pulled herself to stand, her hand still holding her stomach as she stepped toward me menacingly. Brittany was quick to rush her though, taking Angela to the ground. I watched in horror as they struggled on the sidewalk, hair and hands everywhere.

“Stop it!” I screamed as Angela climbed on top of Brittany, but she didn’t stop. She lifted her arm and jutted her fist into the side of Brittany’s face. I rushed forward and grabbed a fistful of Angela’s dark hair, yanking her backward. She was ready for me though. She jutted her elbow upward, hitting me in the stomach and knocking the air out of me. I fell backward onto the sidewalk.

“Please, help her!” I heard Brad cry out. I looked over at him as I held myself in a ball, trying to protect the baby. The baby he didn’t know about. The baby that could be hurt right now.

“Please…” I whispered pleadingly as I looked up at Angela who was approaching.

Before she could make another move, a female cop tackled her to the ground. I watched them struggle, a blur of dark blue from the NYPD uniform and a flash of red from Angela’s dress.

“Stop moving!” the cop shouted. She had managed to get Angela on the ground. She was on her stomach, face against the sidewalk. She squirmed frantically under the cop’s knee that dug into her back, screaming profanities. Her face was pulled in anger and pain as her cheek scraped across the dirty sidewalk.

“Get the hell off me!” Angela screamed at the top of her lungs.

“You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…” the cop began reciting, ignoring her, as she unhooked handcuffs from her belt. She struggled to grab Angela’s wrists, who was surprisingly strong for how gaunt she was.

“I need backup here!” she called out.

The cop, who was towering above Brad, reluctantly left his post and assisted the female cop as they slid the clinking metal cuffs around Angela’s wrist, restraining her arms behind her. I looked to Brad, who was shaking his head regretfully, still kneeling on the sidewalk as he was instructed. He looked distraught.