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I don’t know how the fuck she got in here, but I refuse to focus on that while she’s holding a gun on Zayn and I. She raises it over my head and shoots, a demented smile on her face.

“Is that Ci’s son? Did you steal my kid?” she asks, weaving on her feet as madness sparkles from her too bright eyes.

I swallow hard as the paint cracks over my head, and she shoots again. Zayn hits the ground on his stomach, though I can hear him army crawling and muttering things under his breath. Knowing him, they’re reminders to keep moving until he gets to my closet. As he’s gotten older, I’ve shown him where the safe room is, how to get inside, and how to call for help. A checklist for how to survive is loudly pounding through his mind in my voice, keeping him going.

He’s going to be okay, even if I’m not. My breathing gets heavy as I gaze at her, leaning down to pull my phone out with my taser. The taser looks like a flat charger, and I put it on the railing as I keep my balance. It feels as if I’m having an out of body experience as I set up tools that may help me survive this.

Then again, who brings a taser to a gun fight? Apparently me.

“Alexa, I see you’re out of jail,” I drawl, pretending this is a normal occurrence as I lie my ass off. “Whatever this visit is about is between us. Zayn is already out of the house and running for help. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

“No. He can’t be! You lie.”

“We run through escape routes often,” I shrug almost apologetically. “I didn’t hear you were out. I’d love to say this is a nice surprise, but its not.”

Why don’t I know this?!

“It just happened,” she giggles. She’s wearing black rimmed glasses that are very different from her style when I knew her at Chesterfield Prep, and she squints through them as if the prescription isn’t quite right. “During the holidays, the prison doesn’t update the public records very well. I had a little birdie tell me all about how a little whore was fucking professional hockey players. It was child’s play to find your house since you’ve been driving all over the place in your car the last couple of days. Who the fuck needs to leave their house so much?

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to make you pay for coming back, Nope. You should have stayed dead. God, it’s almost like high school all over again, huh?”

“Some of us have evolved past that,” I murmur, watching as she moves closer to me. She’s wearing hand-me-down pants and a black shirt that’s hanging off her shoulder. Her hands don’t even tremble as she keeps the gun trained on me, her lips twisting as if she finds me lacking.

Her opinion of me is never something I cared about. I need to rile her up to get her off balance and then I’ll kill her simply for aiming a gun in my son’s direction. I’m vibrating with anger, which makes me so much braver than I have any right to be.

“Why couldn’t you stay dead?” Alexa snarls. “The prosecutor really made me believe I did it, even though there’s no way I did.”

“The fairies saved me,” I whisper, trying to get her to lose her temper. “Some girls have all the luck, huh? Four boyfriends, a son, and better hair.”

I suck in a breath as she forgets she can shoot me and she rushes over to hit me with the gun instead. My face bursts in pain as I shove the weapon up in the air and force her to fire it. I try to keep track of how many bullets she’s expelled as she kicks and screams, but it’s difficult to do as I attempt to protect myself.

Alexa has always been very strong, and prison has only enhanced her strength. I can feel the muscles in her arms as I keep her arm from straightening again, grunting as she shoves me back until my back hits the stairs.

My family has tried to teach me how to use a gun and fight, yet I’ve always told them it was a lost cause. I won’t ever shoot first. I’d have to be in a life or death position to use it, and now I am.

Alexa continues to punch and hit me, my face and torso taking the abuse.

“No!” I scream, knocking her arm away as she tries to aim at my chest. I may not have much faith in my abilities, but I won’t leave my loved ones without giving them every ounce of my determination. Love isn’t always staying because the decision is removed from your hands, but I’ll put up one hell of a fight.

I’m out of breath, with darkness threatening my vision as I fight her for control of her weapon. Despite the way she’s straddling me, I rock and twist my hips to flip her over while not getting shot. It’s not going well, no matter how much I buck and fight her.

The only way to win this is to fucking shoot her, but its not as easy as simply doing that.

“Stop,” I gasp, digging my nails into her hands.

“You ruined my life!” she screams. “They’re mine!”

“Get a life,” I growl, ripping the gun away. My hands are almost numb with the adrenaline riding me hard, and Alexa begins hitting me as I get my fingers to hold the gun properly.

It’s as if my fingers claw up because they aren’t getting enough circulation, especially since it’s so cold outside. I didn’t even have a chance to take my jacket off, which is helping to cushion some of Alexa’s blows.

The discharge of the gun almost takes me by surprise as she falls on top of me and I continue to fire into her gut until the distinct clicking sound brings me back to myself.

“It’s empty,” I breathe, shoving Alexa off me as I fall down a step on my ass. Blood covers both of us and her eyes are wide as she holds her stomach as if stunned.

My phone begins to vibrate and I gasp as it falls next to me on the floor along with the taser. Fury fills me as I remember the fear in Zayn’s voice before he took off. Lifting the taser I turn it on and shove it into Alexa’s throat. I want to make her pay for scaring him.

“You came into my house,” I hiss, “and scared my kid. For what?! Some insane idea that I took your place? Nothing in my life is yours!”