Before I could recover from both blows, more rained down, hitting me over and over.
I raised my arms up over my head, realizing almost too late that I had my helmet in my hand still.
It was only when I heard the sound of metal connecting with the plastic that I realized I still had it.
Swinging out blindly, I connected with something solid, hearing a feminine curse.
The body hit the ground beside me and blindly I swung out, again and again, hoping to make contact with something.
I did, three out of four times.
The only problem was, I had so much blood in my eyes I couldn’t see a single thing.
I could feel it running down my face and over my cheek, curling behind my ear and soaking into my hair.
Whoever had done the hitting had stopped moving, but I didn’t stop my hitting back to make sure.
Only when I heard something solid crunch did I back away and scuttle until I felt something solid at my back.
Then the familiar sound of a motorcycle filled the air, and I started to sob.
Only, that sobbing hitched when the person that I’d been hitting started to speak.
“You know how long I’ve been keeping up this lie?” Abby coughed wetly. “I’m not fucking schizophrenic, you moron. Schizophrenics have more symptoms than I do. But it’s super hard to act crazy, and I had no idea that it was. I’ve slipped up quite a bit over the years.”
I shook my head, realization on who I’d been hitting with the helmet still clutched in my hand dawning. “You’re on medication. It makes you better. Please, don’t do this.”
“It’s already done.” She coughed. “You’re dead. You just don’t know it yet.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, frantically trying to wipe away the blood so I could see.
I used my shirt next, finally getting enough of the blood out of my eyes that I could focus on what was in front of me.
My sister on the ground, her leg bent at an awkward angle, pointing a gun at my face.
“You are the worst type of person,” she said. “Always going with the flow when you should be scared for your life. You didn’t even care that I slept with your boyfriend. You just walked out like you didn’t care about him or me and never looked back.”
I held my tongue, unsure what she wanted me to say.
“I fucked him for a year, you know,” she said. “But it was only after I convinced him that you didn’t like him. He hated you.”
I didn’t believe that for a second.
Men who hated women didn’t chase them around when they left.
They let them go without question.
And Teller sure the hell didn’t let me go.
“You didn’t fuck him for a year,” I denied. “And he didn’t hate me. All you could get him to do was kiss you.”
At least, that was what I hoped was the case.
Who knew if it actually was.
“Well, we’ll never know, will we?” she sang. “Because you’re about to be someone else’s problem. I’ll comfort your biker, though. Don’t worry.”
I threw my helmet at her.
The gun dropped from her hand and clattered to the ground.
Callum walked up and blinked.
Then he was running toward me, a look of abject horror on his face.
CHAPTER 24
I’m nicer than my face looks.
-Callum to Iris
CALLUM
“Hey,” Haggard said. “I don’t need you anymore. Some old man with a tractor stopped by, let me use his jack. Thanks, though. Hope you didn’t get too far away.”
I rolled my eyes. “Only halfway back, loser. Be safe.”
After hanging up with Haggard, I did a quick sweep of the area, then flipped a bitch in the middle of the road and started heading back the other way.
It took me eight minutes.
It would’ve taken me less, but some tractor trailer had pulled out in front of me, and he was pulling a massive load.
As in, a fuckin’ windmill kind of load.
I contemplated going around him twice before I decided to go for it and damn the consequences.
I made it around him, and into the space in front of Teller’s place, with its police tape still cordoning off the driveway, in less than a minute.
When I got off the bike, something started to strike me as off.
I wasn’t sure what it was, but the deeper I walked down the length of the driveway, and around where I’d seen Iris disappear, the worse the feeling got.
I’d just made it around the side of the house when I heard metal clatter to concrete, and a solid thump filled the air.
When I turned the corner to the front of the house, it was to see two women on the ground about eight feet apart from each other, and a whole lot of fucking blood.
The woman on the ground with the gun a few inches from her hand didn’t bother me.