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“For the love of God, Shay, stop!”
“No way.” She was already setting up again.
Jules yelled. Sprang for the door!
Shay, eyes dark with a bitter hatred, refocused.
Jules had to get away!
Again, she leapt, her hands scrabbling for the door handle.
Shay anticipated her move.
She adjusted. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” she said with evil satisfaction. She set up as Jules yanked on the door handle.
Shay spun again, her toe sliding on the towel still lying on the floor. “Shit!” she yelled, her balance off. Still, she managed to kick out.
Jules dropped. Hit the floor.
Shay’s leg swooshed over her head and Jules grabbed Shay’s calf.
With a squeal, Shay hit the floor. Her head thudded against the floor.
Footsteps pounded down the hall.
“In here!” Jules screamed.
Shay struggled. She was strong, fighting and kicking, determined to kill her sister. They rolled across the floor. Jules’s back hit the leg of one of the twin beds and she cried out, screaming in pain.
Hadn’t she heard someone in the hallway?
“Help!” she yelled desperately. Pinned against the bed’s leg, Jules held fast to her sister’s deadly leg. Wouldn’t let go. Just like she had never let go of her stupid vision of her sister, held fast to the notion that Shay, troubled, could be redeemed. But the monster wrestling with her, swearing, spitting, clawing and raging, was too far gone, had crossed the frail line between rational thought and insanity.
Shay’s free leg clamped down hard on Jules’s waist, pinning her against the bed leg. Strong fingers twisted in Jules’s hair, yanked hard, drawing her head back. Breathing rapidly, panting like an animal, Shay kicked and twisted, trying desperately to dislodge Jules’s grip, while doing damage with her own.
No way would Jules release her. Shay had won too many competitions, had bragged to Jules in the past about how easy it was to take down an opponent.
Shay arched her back. Fingers clawed Jules’s scalp, twisting her hair, and pulling up, stretching Jules’s neck. Shay’s free hand became a weapon. Fingers glued tightly together and stiff, as if she intended to give Jules a karate chop to her exposed throat!
“God, I hate you!” Shay said, raising her hand, taking aim.
Jules couldn’t move.
She watched in horror as Shay swung down.
Instantly, she let go of Shay’s leg and threw up a hand to deflect the blow.
Too late!
Shay’s hand sliced against her throat.
Jules went limp. Coughed. Blinked as the world spun. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Blackness closed in around her as Shay stripped her fingers from Jules’s hair and, breathing hard, rolled away. “Die, you miserable bitch,” she said as Jules dragged in a breath with difficulty, one hand at her throat, the other on the floor where the towel still stretched across the floor. “I talked to Dawg. He’s going to help me. All I have to do is jack one of the snowmobiles that Nell told me about and I’m home free.” She reached into her pocket and showed off the keys, letting them dangle from her fingers as Jules tried desperately to drag in a breath. Shay’s eyes glowed triumphantly. “I took these from that bitch Missy when I cuffed her. Things are gonna be different now. You’ll see!”
She straightened, satisfied that her job was done, then, as Jules watched helplessly, snagged her backpack from the corner of the desk and started for the door.
Jules’s fingers tightened on the towel as she gasped for breath.
Shay didn’t notice. She had to step over Jules before she got there, and she couldn’t resist. Standing with one foot on the damned towel, she aimed the toe of her other boot so that it would smash into Jules’s face.
