A loud crash comes from the back of the house that has the henchman behind me taking a couple of steps back. A blood-curdling scream follows that chills me to the core.
Arabella!
Fuck!
It’s now or never. Rolling onto my back, I grab the gun, securing my grip around the weapon as both Charles and his man are looking at the doorway. The move is beyond painful, but the beauty of a Glock is that the only safety is on the trigger.
You get one shot, Trouble. Never be afraid to take it.
One shot. It doesn’t have to kill. It’s only got to cause enough damage to buy Arabella time to make a run for it. To save herself.
One. Fucking. Shot.
“It’s easy, Trouble.”
One. Fucking. Shot.
Bang!
The kickback reverberates through my arms, rattling my bones, knocking my balance that’s already suffering from the pain pulsating in my face. Still, the shadow of the giant in front of me doesn’t halt, and so I shoot again. And again. And again. Until he falls at my feet.
“Fuck!” Charles roars, reaching for me as I push up onto my feet shakily.
My stomach is in knots, making the nausea get worse with the adrenaline coursing through me. The only shot I get at him narrowly misses him, and I’m so discombobulated by the pain throbbing in my face that it takes me too long to react.
Throwing my hand out, still clutching the Glock, I connect with his face before I make a run towards the unmanned front door. Three deafening shots break the sudden silence; the shock horror has me tripping over the dead man’s feet.
My nose is bleeding enough that blood is gurgling at the back of my throat as I gasp for air. With my heart racing the way it is, I’m finding it impossible to clear the haze that’s slowing me down. It’s made worse when my stomach turns, and citrusy bile fills my mouth.
I barely make it out of the kitchen when I’m dragged to the floor by my hair. I’m scraped over granite tiles until I’m slammed into one of the kitchen cupboards.
“I protected you,” he spits at me with disgust. “Just like your mother. Ungrateful little cunt.”
His foot hammers straight into my chest. Pain stabs into my organs, everything inside me blazing so hot, I’m unsure whether it’s physical hurt or anger.
“Are you going to kill me too?”
“Why shouldn’t I?
I don’t answer his question. My eyes focus solely on the kitchen doorway. On all the noises around us.
Please don’t be hurt. Please.
Not on my watch.
It’s all I can think as Casper’s words repeat in my head.
Not on my watch.
This will end him.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Charles muses, standing over me. “She cried too when she begged me to spare you. And I did, because you’re my daughter. Aren’t you, my little flower?”
“They’re going to find you, and you’re going to wish that I’d really poisoned you.”
He laughs darkly. My insides are an inferno. Sweat is beading on my cold skin.
All I can think is that I want to see my baby again. I want to tell her I love her. I want to watch her grow. I don’t want to leave her. I can’t.