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“And who’s the unlucky father of your bastard child?” he asked.
“You. You’re the father,” I said, sobbing.
He kicked me then. I protected my child as best I could, but my hands weren’t a match for his size eleven shoes.
He kicked and kicked. He stomped on my arm in the hopes I’d move it from my stomach. I heard the crack of a bone.
“I’ll kick that bastard thing right out of you,” he said, puffing with exertion.
I heard someone bang on the wall. It stilled him. They threatened to call the police but he only laughed.
That gave me a second to move. I rolled and sprung to my feet. Where I got the energy from, I had no idea. I ran to the kitchen area and grabbed a knife. When I turned, he was laughing at me.
“You don’t have the guts, Amber.”
“Don’t come near me,” I shouted. “Help!” I screamed as loud as I could.
He walked slowly towards me. I skirted along the wall until I was back into the living area.
“Do it, stab me. I bet you dream of that, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I dream of killing you. I pray that you’ll die. Want to know the funniest one? I hoped that you’d have a heart attack while fucking Petra. I laughed out loud at that.”
“You’re mad, you know that?”
“I am. I’ve finally lost it. So don’t try me. I’m leaving and you’re going to stand there and let me.”
I reached to grab the money and shoved it in my pocket. I never took my gaze from his. Before I could get to the door, however, he stepped closer.
“Do you think you’ll get out of here? The door is locked, Amber.”
He reached into his pocket and fished out his key. He swung it from side to side in front of me. My door key was in the bag on the floor.
He took another step closer. He was just a foot away. I was shaking, and my grip tightened on the handle of the kitchen knife.
“Do it. Put us both out of our misery.”
I closed my eyes and thrust my arm forward. I heard a gasp and felt his fists connect with my skin. When I opened them, I had stabbed him in the chest. He hadn’t died. He was fighting back. I pulled out the knife and stabbed him again. His eyes were wide with shock, clearly not imaging I would actually do it. As his fists rained down on me, I stabbed him again and again.
I lost track of time, so even when he was on the floor and not moving, I continued to stab. The last one being in the side of his neck. That was when an arc of blood, just the one, splattered over the wall. When the blood stopped spurting, I knew his heart had stopped.
I waited.
I waited for the feeling of freedom to come.
I felt calm. I felt serene, and extremely tired.
I needed a nap.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
PRESENT DAY
Two,or it could have been three, days later I woke in a hospital bed with a policewoman sitting beside me. I had dreams, or perhaps they were flashbacks of the time between killing Andrew and passing out. I wasn’t sure what was real, though.
Tania sat on the other side. She jumped up as I opened my eyes.
“My baby,” I croaked out the words.
