My voice trembles. “No…no, I didn’t. Mrs. Taylor—Diane, it was an accident—”
“You made him leave! Now, it’s time for you to pay!” She whips around, storming over to the kitchen island. When her back is to me, I shoot off the ground toward the front door. A gunshot explodes behind me. I scream as the glass in the front window shatters. Dropping to the ground, I cover my head.
“You bitch!”
“Please! You don’t want to do this,” I cry out, crawling along the floor to find something to shelter myself behind.
“You’re right. I don’t. I need you to do something for me first—”
The hinges shriek as the front door crashes open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back. I barely register the quick movement, but my throat locks when he comes into sight. My scream is almost silent as I cry out to Chase. His head whips in my direction. His eyes fall on me, wide with confusion. Unaware of the danger, he darts toward me. “Jesus, Bridget.” He skids to the ground in front of me. “What—?” Over his shoulder, Mrs. Taylor raises her gun to point at Chase’s back, and terror seizes my lungs.
“No!” I shoot forward to block Chase. “Please, don’t. He has nothing to do with this. You want me. Your revenge is with me.”
“Fuck, Bridget. Get behind—”
“Don’t move!” she yells, and we both freeze.
I refuse to move away from Chase. “Okay. Okay…whatever it is you want, tell me.”
Chase captures my arm, and I panic, knowing he’s trying to put me behind him. Mrs. Taylor sees it too as the vein in her neck protrudes.
“I told you not to move!” She raises her gun, baring her stained teeth. Her hand shakes, and I panic, fearing she may accidentally pull the trigger.
“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Okay. Just…please, tell me what you want.”
She hesitates, her hand still raised. With her free hand, she uses the sleeve of her shirt to wipe at her nose. That’s when I notice her dilated pupils. She’s high. “I want money.”
“I don’t have any money—”
“Then get it!” She lunges closer, jabbing the gun at me. “Your boss. He’s rich. There has to be money somewhere in that house. A safe.”
Anna.
I can’t let her near that house.
I raise my hands in surrender. “Mrs. Taylor, I don’t know of a safe being anywhere in that house. I haven’t worked here that long.”
Chase eases closer to me. I want to melt into the comfort of his body, but not even his warmth can stop the violent tremors that travel through me. I silently beg him to back off. She’s unhinged, and without a source of money, I don’t know how to talk her down.
“Listen, I have money. I can take you to my bank. We can… work this—” Black spots mar my vision, and I sway to the right.
“Bridget!” Chase calls for me as two hands grip my waist, bringing me upright.
“Don’t move!”
“She’s fucking bleeding. She needs to sit down. I’m going to move slowly, but I’m bringing her to the couch.”
“I’m fine…” My voice is groggy. My head continues to pound. He walks me over to the couch and bends down with me as I sit. Leaning forward, he speaks low. “I’m gonna get us out of this. Don’t worry.”
I grab his shirt, barely able to squeeze. “Please. She’s crazy. She’ll hurt you.”
“She’s not. Trust me, okay?” I can’t. I’m too scared.
“Chase, she’s on—”
“Stop talking over there! Step away from her or I’ll shoot you both.” Her movements become jerky. She searches around the room. A bead of sweat forms along her forehead, and she wipes it off. “You’re going to take me to the house.” She swipes her sleeve across her nose again. She spots her bag and reaches for it. Chase makes a slight movement, and she jerks, raising the gun. “Don’t be the hero.”
Chase throws his hands up. “Wasn’t trying to be. I’ll take you up to the house—”
“No,” I spit out.
“Bridge, let me take—”
“Both of you shut up.” Mrs. Taylor holds her aim as she reaches inside her bag and pulls out a small plastic baggie containing a white powder. She tries to maintain eye contact with us while she opens it and brings it to her nose. She inhales deeply, snorting the drug. “Shit,” she hisses. Her eyelids become sluggish. Chase’s shoulders tense. He adjusts his footing and I know he’s about to make a move. I choke down my panic. He looks down at me with probing eyes, asking for my approval. My chest tightens. Bile churns inside my stomach. I don’t know what to do. Mrs. Taylor’s arm relaxes, and her eyes shut completely. Before I can give him an answer, his foot pushes off the ground as the front door opens.
Time suddenly stops. I hold my breath and my stomach bottoms out as my eyes focus on the little girl walking into the guesthouse, rubbing her eyes.