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Except it’s not Aiden. And it’s not my dad.
I inhale a sharp breath, but before I can utter his name, he rears back and throws a punch. It lands on my jaw, the force sending me flat on my ass. Fear coils in my belly, a rattlesnake ready to strike. It takes me a minute to get my bearings, but when I do, Brantley is standing over me. He kicks the door shut behind him, and I’m frozen on the floor, shocked and scared.
“Heard you were in town,” he says, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Also heard that yourfiancécame with you.” He snarls the word out, and my body goes into fight or flight, my heart in my throat. He grabs my ankle and pulls me. The hard yank makes me whimper in fear, my mind scrambling for a way to get out. I breathe in through my nose and force myself tothink.But there’s nothing close to me I can use to defend myself with.
“Luther!” I yell, relieved when I hear him coming around the corner. He sees Brantley, and throws himself in the air, ready to bite. Brantley throws his arm out, hitting Luther to the ground. He whimpers but doesn’t get up.No, no, no. This is all so wrong.Brantley leans over me, and I throw a punch of my own, crying out when my knuckles connect with his face. Thathurt. He rubs his jaw and cracks his neck. “Someone has some fight in her,” he says quietly. “This is going to be fun.” He moves lightning fast, grabbing my hair. He pulls me to my feet, and shoves a fist into my stomach, knocking the wind right out of me. God, this can’t be happening again.Not again. I fold at the waist, realizing my mistake too late. His knee comes up, connecting with my nose, and sending me back onto the floor. I need to get to the kitchen, and get a phone, or something. Warm liquid trickles from my nose, and when I touch it, my fingertips are bloody. I can’t hear past the rush of blood in my ears, but I know,I know,I have to fight back. Try to get away. I’m no longer his to hit. I manage to right myself, though my ribs hurt, but in the next breath, he kicks my legs out from under me. My neck snaps, and my head hits the hardwood floor. Pain slices through my skull, making my teeth clench. I spit some blood out, and glare at Brantley. He’s leaner than I recall, his face gaunt and narrow. And he’s disheveled, which he never used to be. His shirt is askew, his hair a mess. And there’s a frantic energy about him. In his eyes, which are wild and crazed. He crouches down, pulling my hair at the root. “I warned you, Luna. You belong to me, remember? You always will.”
Spittle flies from his mouth, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Fuck you,” I snap, gathering what fight I can. I shove my palm into his face and press my finger into his eye. He screams and lets me go. I scramble to my feet, and run for the kitchen, but he’s not far behind. He grabs the back of my jacket and pulls hard enough to send me backward a good few feet. He lands a swift kick to my ribs, and in my curled over state, he lands another kick to my face. I roll over, pain reverberating through every part of me.
I’m crying, I know I am, and if I remember correctly, it drives Brantley crazy. He used to hate it when I cried. He straddles me, his hands coming around my neck. He gives my neck a squeeze, and I thrash my legs, trying to get him to loosen his grip. He lifts me by my neck, and slams my head into the hardwood floor, making me dizzy. “He doesn’t get to have you,” Brantley seethes. “He doesn’t get to have what’smine.”
He sounds depraved. Like he’s completely lost his mind, and all I can think is,make it stop.
I fight with everything in me, trying to break his hold on my throat, but the darkness starts to seep in, and I can feel myself slipping. With one last measly breath, I brace myself, and hit his face with my forehead. He jerks back, his hand flying to his nose. “You bitch,” he sneers, touching his fingers to his bloody nose. I writhe back, despite the pain in my body, and try to stand. I barely manage it, struggling for air. Brantley steps towards me, and I throw a hand out. He takes hold of my wrist and twists it. I scream, hearing thesnap. He yanks me towards him, and elbows me in the face, my temple. The blow sends me falling backward, towards the stairs. If I can get up the stairs, and into a room, maybe I’ll be safe until Dad and Aiden come home. They can’t be far. I hurl myself up on the railing and make it half-way up the stairs before I’m pulled back. I twist at the waist, and kick with all my might, mildly satisfied when my foot connects with the side of Brantley’s head.
“Fuck!” He roars, holding his head. It gives me a moment reprieve, just long enough to crawl up the rest of the stairs. I reach the landing, and on shaky legs, I stand. Brantley runs up the stairs and catches me at the waist. He pivots, and loses his footing, sending us both down the stairs. I gasp for air, desperate to breathe, but the air doesn’t want to come. We roll on the floor, and he ends up on top of me. His weight makes me feel ill. Or maybe it’s the several blows to the head, or my stomach, that has me feeling so damn queasy. I don’t know. It could be any number of things considering he’s got me exactly where he wants me.
“No,” I wheeze. “No.” I summon whatever strength I have left, and try to throw him off me, but being the sick bastard he is, it excites him to have me fighting back. I manage an elbow to his temple, which sends him falling to the side, but nothing keeps him down for long. It never did. The kick to the ribs is swift, and hard, and I cry out, rolling away from him. Using my position to his advantage, he walks around me, kicking me again. He grabs my hair, and drags me to the living room, away from the door. Everything around me is swimming, and I’m starting to lose my grip on my surroundings. My head is pounding, and Brantley becomes a blur above me. I have nothing left, and I’m terrified this man is going to kill me. And then I think of Aiden. His face fills my mind, and somehow, I manage to drag in enough oxygen to chase away the darkness. I know I don’t have much time. In spite of the pain, I try to focus on Aiden — what would he want me to do right now? He’d want me to give it everything I’ve got. I need Brantley to think I’m unconscious, maybe then he’ll stop, and I can buy myself a bit of time. He’s muttering curse words to himself, something about the dog, and not part of his plan. I take in a breath, ignore the pain, and roll onto my side. His back is to me, so I draw my legs into my chest, and give one almighty kick with my legs, my feet landing behind his knees. He stumbles and falls over the coffee table with a shout. I watch as he stands, and the last shred of hope I have dwindles when he rounds the coffee table and straddles me. “You’ll pay for that.”
He slaps my face and then strangles me, holding tighter and tighter until my vision blurs. This is it, I think. I’m going to die. Tears slide down my temples and thinking about Aiden makes my heart hurt. I close my eyes, and stop fighting, not sure if the sound of car doors slamming is a dream, or a memory, or wishful thinking. Brantley’s weight is gone, but I don’t know if that’s real or not either. Time slows, and everything feels sluggish. And then I hear it. Aiden’s sweet voice, and I’m sure he’s touching me now, his hands fluttering over my battered body.
“Luna?” I think he’s talking to me. In this dream, he’s here, with me. “Baby, open your eyes.”
My eyelids flutter and I think I see him, but again, I’m not sure. It feels as though he’s here with me, touching my face, but I drift off, succumbing to the darkness that’s so very alluring.
Chapter Seven: The intruder & The Attack
Aiden
Leslie and I stop in the driveway, and while he unlocks the front door, I hop onto the flatbed of his truck and start untying the tree from the roof rack. I hear him yell, “Luna!” and the pitch of his voice sends chills down my spine. I jump over the lip of the flatbed, and run inside, skidding to near halt when I see Leslie crouched over Luna’s body. Beside her, Luther’s on the floor, knocked out cold, I think. My mind scrambles but only for a beat before my training kicks in. I kneel beside her, my heart lurching up my throat when I catalog her injuries. Her face is bruised, her nose and lip bloody. I cup her face. “Luna, baby. Open your eyes.” She makes a sound, and her head lolls to the side. With her clothes, it’s hard to see how else she’s been hurt. I look up at Leslie just as Adaline runs in, and gasps. ‘Oh, my god.” Her hands tremble over her mouth, and her eyes grow watery. “Leslie.” He looks at me. “You need to check on Luther.” His gaze flicks over to his dog.
To Adaline, I say, “Call an ambulance. Now.”
My hands flutter over Luna’s form, and in the long minutes it takes for the paramedics to come, I try to wake her. She makes another weak sound, but still doesn’t come to. Damnit.
“We’ve got you,” I murmur, checking for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. That’s a good sign. The paramedics rush in, and while Leslie and Adaline deal with Luther, I speak to the medics. Giving them a rundown of the injuries I can see.
“Military?” The young medic asks, his gaze flicking back to Luna while he gets a neck brace around her neck. “Navy,” I reply. They rush in with a gurney, and I help them get her stabilized, following them out to the ambulance.
“Go with her,” Leslie says, holding Luther and walking to his truck. “Take Adaline with you. I’ll meet you at the hospital.” I nod once and wrap my arm around Adaline’s shaking form. She cries into a tissue, and I don’t bother trying to reassure her with meaningless platitudes. I help her into the passenger seat of her BMW before folding myself into the driver’s seat and starting the car. We follow the ambulance to the hospital, and on the way, I ask, “Brantley?” It makes me sick to even think of that piece of shit, but no one else would want to hurt Luna like this.
“Can only be him,” Adaline sniffles. “His mother most likely told him she’s in town, but heaven only knows how he knew she was alone at home. I forgot some things at the store, and—and—” I pat her leg. “Not your fault, Adaline. Let’s just get to the hospital, and we’ll call the cops.” I make a mental note to call Jason and Devon as soon as I get a chance. I pull the car into a spot as close to the emergency room entrance as I can, and usher Adaline in with me while they take Luna out of the ambulance and wheel her inside. It’s a blur of activity from there. The ER doctor rushes Luna into a room to examine her, and while I wait, Adaline provides them with all of Luna’s information. I’m pacing the hallway when Leslie barrels in, making a b-line for his wife.
“Luther?” She asks tearfully.
“With the vet,” he replies. “He’ll be alright, honey.” He wraps her in a hug as she cries into his chest. A few minutes later, the doctor tending to Luna walks out, slipping his stethoscope around his neck.
“Jones family?”
Leslie and Adaline step forward, and Adaline reaches for my hand, pulling me towards them.
“Luna is still unconscious,” the doctor said. “She sustained blunt force trauma to her head, and her trachea is bruised. Bruising is consistent with strangulation.” Adaline whimpers, and I drop her hand to rub her back. “She has some internal bleeding around her abdomen, but the baby seems fine—”
“Baby?” I choke out.
The doctor nods. “She’s about six weeks along. You weren’t aware?”
I shake my head. “Other injuries?”
