Page 105 of Mr. Perfect


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“Open the goddamn gate!” Leah shrieked, shaking the gate with her left hand as if she were a crazed chimpanzee on the inside of a cage. Her feathery blond hair flew around her face.

Jaine stared at the blood, and the blond hair. She saw the weird glitter in Leah’s eyes, the twisted expression on her face, and everything inside her went cold. “You murdering bitch,” she half-whispered.

Leah was as quick as a striking snake. She whipped her right arm away from her side and thrust it through the bars of the gate, swinging something at Jaine’s head. Jaine lurched backward and lost her balance, stumbling several more steps before falling. She twisted to the side as she fell, landing on her hip. Driven by adrenaline, she bounced to her feet before she felt any pain from the jarring impact.

Leah swung again. It was a tire tool, Jaine saw. She backed farther away from the gate and screamed, “Shelley! Call the police! Hurry!”

On the chaise, her cell phone began to ring. Involuntarily she glanced toward it, just as Leah, on a surge of insane strength, began beating the gate with the tire tool. The metal rang under the force of the blows, and the lock gave way.

Leah shoved the gate open, an unholy expression twisting her face as she stepped inside. “You’re a whore,” she rasped, raising the tire tool. “You’re a lewd, vulgar whore, and you don’t deserve to live.”

Not daring to take her gaze off Leah, even for a second, Jaine inched to the side, trying to get at least a chair between them. She knew what the blood on Leah’s hands and clothing meant, knew that T.J. was dead, too. All of them were gone, now. All of her friends. This insane bitch had killed them.

She had backed up too much. She was almost on the edge of the pool. Quickly she adjusted her direction, angling away from the pool.

Shelley stepped out of the house, he

r face white and her eyes wide. She carried one of Nicholas’s hockey sticks. “I called the police,” she said, her voice shaking as she stared at Leah like a mongoose watching a cobra.

And like a cobra, Leah’s attention swung to Shelley.

No, Jaine thought, the word like a faint whisper in her mind. Not Shelley, too.

“No!” The roar burst out of her throat, and she literally felt herself expanding as a wildfire of rage burst through her, as if her skin couldn’t contain it. A red mist swam in front of her eyes, and her vision narrowed, focused until she saw only Leah. She wasn’t aware of lunging forward, but Leah wheeled back to face her, tire tool raised.

Shelley swung the hockey stick, momentarily distracting Jaine. The thick wood hit Leah on the shoulder, and she screamed in rage, but didn’t drop the tire tool. Instead she swung it in a broad, sideways arc that caught Shelley across the rib cage. Shelley screamed in pain and folded forward. Leah raised the heavy iron to hit Shelley on the back of the head, and Jaine crashed into her, all the force of her fury lending her strength.

Leah was taller, heavier. She gave way under Jaine’s assault, banging Jane’s back with the tire tool, but Jaine was too close for her to get in an effective blow. Leah stiffened and recovered her balance, and thrust Jaine away. She raised her weapon again and took two quick steps toward Jaine.

Shelley straightened, holding her ribs, her face suffused with rage. She lunged forward, too, and the three of them staggered back under her momentum.

Jaine’s left foot slipped off the edge of the pool, and like dominoes, all three of them plunged into the water.

Tangled together, struggling, they went to the bottom. Leah still gripped the tire tool, but the water impeded her swings and she couldn’t get any force behind them. She twisted wildly, trying to break free.

Jaine hadn’t had time to gulp in air before she went under. Her lungs burned, her chest convulsing, as she fought not to inhale water. She wrenched away and lunged for the surface, dragging in huge breaths of air as soon as her face was clear. She choked and sputtered, and looked wildly around.

Neither Shelley nor Leah had surfaced.

Jaine took a deep breath and ducked back underwater.

Their struggle had taken them farther into the deep end of the pool. She saw the froth of bubbles, their twisting forms and floating hair, and Leah’s full skirt billowing around them like a jellyfish. Jaine scissored her legs, kicking herself toward them.

Leah had one arm around Shelley’s neck. Wildly, Jaine latched her hand in Leah’s hair and pulled back as hard as she could, and Leah couldn’t maintain her hold. Shelley shot upward like a balloon.

Leah twisted and got one hand on Jaine’s throat, her fingers digging in. The incredible pressure made Jaine gag, and water rushed into her mouth.

She brought her legs up and braced them on Leah’s stomach, and pushed. Nails clawed her neck as she tore free, and red stained the water in front of her face.

Then Shelley was there again, pushing Leah down on the bottom of the pool. Jaine clawed her way through the water to add her strength to Shelley’s, pushing and fighting and not daring to let go, needing air again, unable to breathe, unwilling to release Leah and surface. Leah’s clawing hands fastened on her blouse and locked tight.

Leah’s struggles grew weaker. Her bulging eyes glared at them through the crystal clear water, then slowly glazed over.

The water exploded behind them. Weakly Jaine turned her head and saw a dark shape, then another, surging toward them in a stream of bubbles. Strong hands wrenched her out of Leah’s death grip, while another pair pulled Shelley away and shoved her upward. Jaine saw her sister’s bare legs kicking, and she tried to follow her, but she had been longer without air than Shelley and she no longer had the strength to kick. She felt herself sort of sink to the bottom, then one of the uniformed cops grabbed her and kicked strongly toward the surface, carrying them both up into life-giving air.

She was only half-aware of being dragged out of the pool, of being stretched out on the concrete. She gagged, coughing convulsively and curling in on herself as she fought to get air past her swollen throat. She heard Shelley’s hoarse cries, and the cops were talking simultaneously, the words jumbling in her head. People were rushing around, and someone else jumped into the water, droplets arcing upward in the bright sunshine and splashing in her face.

Then Sam was there, his face utterly white as he lifted her to a sitting position and braced her in his arms. “Don’t panic,” he said reassuringly, his voice steady though his arms trembled. “You can breathe. Don’t fight so hard. Just take slow breaths. Easy, babe. That’s the way. Breathe in nice and easy.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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