I was so close.
A scream pierced the air. Was it mine? Pain exploded between my shoulders. My lungs seized. Something hard had slammed into me, and I tumbled, sliding across the kitchen floor like it was ice. My head hit the back wall. Dazed, dizzy, I never had a chance to recover. Chris was already on top of me, pinning me under his weight, his hands wrapped around my throat.
I never gave up. Any hand or foot that I wrestled free clawed and kicked. I fought.
But Chris was strong.
So strong.
All I could see was the feral glare of red-rimmed eyes as he stole the last breaths from my lungs.
That was all.
Until a flash of silver sliced through the darkness behind his head like a shooting star. I murmured a silent wish.
Please don’t let this be my ending.
The swish of a frying pan flew out of nowhere to smack against Chris’s skull.
The claws disappeared from my neck. His face whipped around, frantic eyes searching the dark for his attacker, and I scurried out from underneath him. I gulped in huge, desperate gasps of air as he forgot about me, lumbering to his feet, unsteady, almost tipping over. The bite of rust was in the air. Blood oozed through the fingers he clutched to the back of his head.
Another silver streak flashed.
The frying pan slammed with a sickening crack against the side of his face, and he wilted down the kitchen cabinets. Even though he sprawled out in front of me, motionless, my pulse still raced. I was ready. Ready to run. Ready for him to lurch back to life. He didn’t. There was no more fight in him. Only his chest rose and fell in shallow heaves.
Yolanda’s bunny slippers shuffled forward.
“Did I get him?” She smoothed back her wiry grey curls. Popping her hand onto her hip, she peered down at Chris. Her slipper kicked the heel of his expensive shoe. Not a peep. “Reckon I got him good.”
I only nodded. Everything ached, and when I pressed my palm against the floor and pushed up, my arm shook, and my legs wobbled like I’d never be able to stand again. The frying pan clattered to the counter. Yolanda was coming to help me—bunny slippers and all. A loud thump stopped her in her tracks. Hereyes darted over my shoulder to the front door. My eyes flew to Chris. He was still passed out.
Another thump. A thundering crash. Wood splintered. Something was broken.
“Lola!”
My heart surged back to life.
Aiden.
Yolanda barked a laugh. “Your cavalry’s a bit late.” A smirk cracked her thin lips. “Although better late than never with that one.”
“Lola!” The panic in Aiden’s voice tore at my heart.
“I…” I wanted to shout back, “I’m here, I’m okay,” but my voice was hoarse and broken.
Heavy steps charged down the hall.
I stumbled to the doorway on legs still too shaky to hold my weight. The relief swelling inside me was the only thing dragging me forward. Into the hallway. To him.
The front door hung wide open, barely still on its hinges, and the streetlight outside glowed enough for me to see the man stall at every doorway until his frantic eyes locked on me. His last few steps faltered. Worry etched every line of his face.
I stumbled to him just as he collapsed to his knees.
Aiden’s throat bobbed with a heavy swallow. “I—I couldn’t remember if I was supposed to pick you up. I heard you—” His eyes screwed shut, and he shook his head. He wouldn’t be able to finish that train of thought. “I heard you from down the street. I didn’t think I’d make it…but…you’re…you’re okay.” He smoothed back my hair, and wild eyes scanned my face. “No. Not okay.” His fingertips fluttered along my cheek, my jaw, my neck—all the places where the snake’s claws had been on me. “Oh, love. Where are your glasses?”
Tears streaked down my cheeks, but I was smiling. That sweet, perfect, grumpy man.
I threw my arms around him.
