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“I think you’re lost,” Tank says in a chilling tone that sends shivers sailing right down my spine, turning my blood cold.
What the fuck is going on?
My stomach sinks as I peek my head around my husband’s side and a swarm of terrifying memories come rushing back. My heart starts to race and my palms begin to sweat, seeing my whole fucking world flashing before my eyes.
Christian Baxter sits in my living room chair, the same one he’d sat in all those months ago, right before he had my sweet baby murdered. I never imagined in my life that things could ever get worse than what happened that day, and yet here he is again. Only this time, he sits with a gun pointed directly at my husband.
My hand slips into Tank’s back pocket and I pull out his phone, discreetly searching for Detective Andrews’ number as fast as I can before pressing the call button. Fuck, I hope he answers quickly and gets a damn move on, otherwise, we’re fucked. I have no idea how we could possibly come out on top in this situation, but I know I’m not going down without a fight. There’s no way I’m letting this lowlife get away with harming my family again. Not if I have anything to do with it.
Christian’s chilling voice rings out through the room. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be,” he says before directing his cold stare to me. “I warned you, Sophie. But you wanted to play with fire.”
Tank subtly moves so that his body hides me from Christian’s view. “You need to leave,” Tank says in warning.
“Really?” Christian asks with an amused tone in his voice, waving the gun in his hand. “Do you think you’re in a position to be making requests?”
I hear the familiar squeak of the couch telling me that he’s on his feet. Tank makes slight adjustments and I realize Baxter must be moving about the living room.
Tank ignores Baxter’s comments as he takes a small step forward. I glue myself to his back, knowing that’s exactly where he wants me. Even though the thought of getting closer to this monster terrifies me, my gut tells me Tank is trying to get as close as possible in the hopes of disarming him.
If Baxter notices Tank’s movement, he doesn’t mention it. “You know, it’s funny,” Christian says. “I was out of town when I got the message there was a warrant out for my arrest. My home was raided and then my office.”
Tank scoffs. “Must be a strange concept for you.”
I almost want to high-five my husband for the amount of balls it must take to make a snide comment to a man wielding a gun, but then at the same time, I want to throat punch him for being so stupid.
Baxter ignores him and Tank takes the opportunity to take another step forward. Once again, I follow as closely as I can, hoping to God that Detective Andrews has answered the phone already.
“None of this would have happened if it weren’t for you, Sophie,” Baxter says. “Why don’t you step forward and take responsibility for your actions, rather than making me go through your husband?”
I don’t say a word, knowing that would only piss Tank off. “You’re in this situation because you murdered three men and then went after my wife,” Tank says as he takes another step forward. “Why don’t you take responsibility for your actions and hand yourself in?”
“Why don’t you step out of the way so I can deal with your bitch of a wife once and for all,” he snaps at Tank.
I can almost hear the smirk in Tank’s voice. “You’re fucking delusional if you think I’d ever do that.”
“Fine by me,” Christian says in a tone that sends shivers straight down my spine. Something tells me this is it. That Detective Andrews is too late, and I’m about to lose my husband. In a moment of sheer panic, I step out from behind Tank and notice the gun pointed directly at his chest.
Baxter’s gaze follows my movements, but mine follow the mountain of a man who launches himself clear across the room, tackling Baxter to the ground.
A scream tears from my throat as they scuffle on the living room floor. Tank manages to get the gun from Baxter’s hand and tosses it across the room.
I run as fast as I can and chase the gun as it slides across the tiled floor. I grab it and turn it on Baxter, but my hands begin to shake. I’ve never held a gun before, and I can honestly say, it’s not something I ever want to do again.
“Stop it,” I scream as the two men continue to scuffle on the ground, completely oblivious to the gun in my hand. Either that, or neither of them believe I have the balls to pull the trigger and follow through.
