Daniel shakes me hard, slamming me back against the wall, my head bouncing off it, a picture frame falling to the floor, the glass and metal frame shattering.
“Fucking liar is what you are. What they all are.”
He mumbles more unintelligible words as he drags me into the living room. My eyes scan for something, anything I can use to hit him with. However, unlike the first time, Jack is not at the door, ready to swoop in like a knight in shining armor to save me, and my only other hero is currently unconscious.
“What did you do to Aiden?” I ask as he pushes me to the floor between the heavy wooden coffee table and the pretty couch that had recently started to grow on me.
“I gave the doctor a taste of his own medicine.” Sheer terror courses through me. Daniel is fucking crazy. The girls at the rehab center had nothing on Daniel Munson.
“What did you do to him?” I grapple with the table, struggling to get up, but Daniel kicks my hands away. I hear a pop and I scream, wondering if he broke a finger.
“I put a little something in his beverage while I waited for you, little bird.” Daniel sits down on the couch and leans back, almost looking pleased with himself.
“You disgusting piece of shit,” I growl out. Aiden is probably dead because Daniel can’t take “no” for an answer. I picture myself trying to call Italy to tell Shelby this psychopath killed the love of her life while I just lay on the floor, doing nothing. Adrenaline courses through my body.
“You’re one to talk, Miss Trailer Trash. Did they give you an award, maybe a scholarship for being the most worthless whore to come out of Camden?” Daniel is taunting me, and it’s working. I struggle against the pain to stand up again. The anger, shame, and humiliation about where I came from and how hard I had to fight rears its ugly head within me.
“You’re calling me worthless? You’re the impotent, insecure little asshole who has to rape women to get what you want from them.” I say anything and everything that comes to mind. I watch his face heat a reddish-purple shade as I stumble backwards, my back hitting the wall. “Did your parents ignore you or something? Did your siblings and schoolmates pick on you? You’re a sad, sorry motherfucker, aren’t you?”
“Bitch!” he screams as he gives chase. I hobble into the kitchen, grabbing the cordless house phone in one hand, opening the utensil drawer with the other. Empty.
Smirking, Daniel stalks me around the kitchen island. “Looking for something? I took the pleasure of rearranging your drawers. Such a messy little bird you are.”
Pushing the button and putting the phone to my ear, I hear nothing.
“You see, I learned from the last encounter.”
I’m afraid to take my eyes off this man with wild hair and squirrelly eyes stalking me in my home. I spy the glass on the counter that Aiden must have used. It’s closer to me than it is to him, so I calculate my options. I have to get down the hallway to the front door because there is no doubt in my mind that he’s going to rape, then kill me.
“Apparently, you didn’t learn enough.”
I throw the phone at him, forcing him to catch it or be hit. I throw the glass of what looks like water at him, landing on the floor, making the stone tiles slick. I make a dash for the hallway, Daniel hot on my heels. My heart seems to slow down and thump which each step. Thump. Step. Thump. Step. Thump. Step. On the fourth step, I fall to the floor in the hallway where he had first thrown me against the wall.
“I’ll gut you, Edith.”
I scramble, trying to get up. He grabs my leg in a bruising grip and drags me down to the floor. I’m kicking and screaming, grabbing for anything to help me get away. I wish Jack was here. I wish I hadn’t been such a blasted pacifist and let Jack get a gun for the house. Flashes of happier days zip through my brain as Daniel’s hands claw at my legs, pulling me closer, his fingers like talons, tearing at me and bringing me closer to the end.
Screaming, I kick out again and try to get up, only to have him grab me again and pull. My head bangs against the floor a second time. I look up and see Aiden, prone and helpless, but I also spot a piece of the broken picture frame near my shoulder. Desperately trying to turn and roll away, I grab the broken piece and slash downward, missing. Screaming, I flail again, landing a blow across his face this time, cutting deep.
He releases me to cup his face. “Damn you! Damn you, bitch!”
I kick my feet and push him away. Blood is gushing everywhere. I stagger up and back away, my lunch threatening to come up from the gruesome image burned into my eyes of his mangled face. I grab my bag, which had been just out of reach. Daniel is still howling like an animal, blood running down his face, as I run into the office and lock the door, then drag the desk and chair in front of it. Running to Aiden, I fall to the floor and check for a pulse like he taught me.
“Damn it, Aiden. Come on. I need you. Wake up.” I push and slap him. A thready pulse beats under his skin, but his color looks off. I reach for my bag, grabbing my phone; I slide my finger across the screen and dial 9
11.
“Hello, please help me. I’ve been attacked in my home and my friend is unresponsive. I think he may have been poisoned.” The woman on the phone tells me her name is Kim and to stay on the line, then tells me to stay where I am until police arrive.
I hear the front door slam open, making me jump. “Edith! “Edith!” Jack.
“I’m in the office. Jack, it’s Daniel. He’s out there.”
“Baby…” I can hear Jack outside the door, but the dispatcher tells me to stay put. I’m torn, but I listen. Sirens herald in the distance.
“Aiden, stay with me. Help is coming.” I lift his head into my lap and he begins to seize, vomiting all over my legs. A loud commotion starts outside the door. I hear Jack yelling, police yelling, then the door is being ripped open.
“Edith!” Jack barrels through the door, three police officers behind him. They pull me from Aiden, and Jack grabs me, hugging so tight, the breath is pushed from my lungs. When I wince in pain, he softens his grip.