Page 176 of Angel

Her high made her wild and unpredictable, and as I reached for her wrist, her blade sliced clean through my sleeve.

She lunged forward again, plunging the steel knife into the muscle of my left shoulder.

Pain flared through my arm, but I ignored the burn, gripping her wrists while she clawed at my throat.

Evangeline spat in my face, her teeth bared like a cornered animal as she tried to drive the blade deeper into my neck.

‘Enough,’ I growled, stepping into her space and planting a short, power-driven right hook straight at her jawline.

Her eyes rolled back, her knees giving out as she crumpled unconscious on the hardwood floor.

I caught the sound of sirens as police cruisers screeched into the driveway.

While the cops secured the perimeter, I caught officers outside telling Roxy it wasn’t safe to go in yet, even as she called my name.

Seconds later, four cops spilled through the front door with weapons drawn.

I raised my hands and dropped to the ground as the swarmed around me, staring from Evangeline to my blood-stained arm.

‘That’s my ex and she attacked my wife and I,’ I rasped as guns bristled in my face.

It took Roxy stumbling in and explaining what happened for them to lower their weapons.

They summoned the medics to bring a stretcher, binding Evangeline’s wrists with handcuffs before loading her onto the gurney.

Two paramedics bolted inside, setting their gear bags down on the kitchen floor beside me.

‘Hold still, sir,’ the lead medic urged, pressing thick gauze against the stab wound.

‘No, check my wife first,’ I ordered, my voice leaving zero room for argument as I pointed toward the porch. ‘Make sure the baby is OK.’

As they rolled Evangeline out, Roxy rushed to me.

My wife scarcely gave a glance to Evangeline as the medics whisked her sister away, her wrists bound and her head lolling.

Roxy only had eyes for me as she sank beside me, stroking my cheek as the paramedics evaluated her.

‘Heartbeat is strong, mum is stable,’ the second paramedic announced after checking her pulse.

Roxy let out a shaky breath, burying her face into my neck as I pulled her tight to my good side.

She shuddered, pulling me close, her fingers stroking my hair as we both clung to each other.

ROXY

A few minutes later, two detectives in black, somber suits stepped through the broken doorway, notebooks in hand, to piece together the violent scene.

‘I’m Detective McDaniel,’ the tall African American man said, stepping past the shattered glass with a sharp, observant gaze. ‘This is my partner, Detective Lindqvist.’

McDaniel was mid-thirties, lean, with a shaved head and a street-smart demeanor that took no prisoners or nonsense from anyone.

Beside him, Lindqvist was in her early forties, built like an athlete, her cropped amber hair framing a face with quiet, empathetic warmth.

‘We need a quick rundown of what happened here, ma’am,’ McDaniel said, practical and direct as his eyes swept over the buckshot holes in our wall.

‘Take your time,’ Lindqvist added, offering me a gentle nod. ‘We know you’ve been through hell.’

I answered their questions in flat, hollow tones, recounting every second from the shotgun blast to the final swing.