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Josh's hand is shaking with what I can only assume is rage, and I get the feeling that whatever thread of self-control he's hanging onto is about to snap at hearing another man call mebaby. And if it snaps, I'm done for, and maybe Connor too. I can’t let that happen.
"What’s wrong?”
I clear my throat, half to hide my terror, half to help my lie.
I make my voice light and flirty, “Now, I know that you’re gonna say you can kiss it better, but you better just keep your butt right there on my porch, Connor Shepherd. I mean it, not one toe forward, mister.” I hold his gaze, trying desperately to communicate and he’s definitely on high alert now. He nods once, letting me know he understands what I’m saying:stay there no matter what.
“Yes ma’am,” he says with a laugh that sounds shockingly carefree and real. Looking at him though, I can see the strain this is causing him. His every muscle is tensed and bulging, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists at his sides, the tattoos across his knuckles standing out starkly. “What’s wrong?” he asks again.
I take a deep breath.Here goes nothing. If it doesn’t work, I’m just dead. No big deal.
“My throat’s just a little sore.” I reach up with my left hand and run my fingers along my neck, leaving a small smear of blood from my wrist. I’d managed to get some on my finger tips without Josh noticing. At least, I hope he didn’t notice…but since he hasn’t shot me or stabbed me, I think the odds are in my favor that he didn’t.
Connor’s eyes fly wide and his nostrils flare, his jaw muscle standing out as he clenches his teeth so hard I wonder if he’s going to crack his teeth.
He mouths "inside?"
I give a tiny nod of my head and cut my eyes to the right, right to where Josh is squatting just behind the door, practically vibrating with rage. I move the hand that spread the blood on my neck, momentarily using my thumb and forefinger to make the shape of a gun, like you do when you’re a little kid running around the backyard playing Hatfields and McCoys. Connor swallows hard but nods in understanding.
"Ok babe, well why don't you get some sleep and I'll bring you some soup later on tonight?" He does a good job of keeping his tone even and I know that Josh won’t be able to detect the anything off.
"That sounds perfect."
“Maybe around seven?” He puts an extra emphasis on the word “seven,” and Ithinkhe’s saying that he’s going to give me seven seconds to get out of the way once the door closes.
“That sounds perfect,” I say, trying to tell him that I understand. He nods and holds my gaze and I can tell that he’s trying desperately to assure me that everything is going to be ok. I try desperately to believe him. His body has shifted from terror and strain to the game-time version of himself now: laser-focused; intense; scary.
"I'll talk to you later." I nod and close the door, hoping to God that he has a plan.
As soon as the door closes, I step back hastily and Josh straightens.
One.
He turns to stare at me, and the possessiveness and fury is so startling that my breath catches.
Two.
Hearing me with Connor pushed him over the edge. I hold my hands up in supplication as he stares.
Three.
"Josh,” I whisper. “He’s gone. Everything’s ok.”
Four.
He tilts his head, looking at me like he doesn’t even really see me.
Five.
“If I can't have you, no one can," Josh says quietly.
Six.
His words send a cold sliver of fear down my spine. Just as he raises the gun, the door bursts open, knocking into Josh’s back. I don’t even have time to breathe out a sigh of relief that Connor was a second early. Josh stumbles and I scream, jumping back as Connor flies at Josh, quicker than I would have thought possible. He tackles him to the floor and I scramble out of the way. Connor is bigger and obviously knows how to handle himself, but Josh is fighting like a man with nothing left to lose—and he still has the gun. I don't know what to do. Would trying to help just make it worse?
They’re rolling around, throwing punches and kicking out at each other, and it's all happening almost too fast to really track, but also somehow feels like it's in slow motion. Josh lands a punch across Connor’s jaw, but he barely seems to feel it. Connor grabs Josh's wrist, trying desperately to keep him from pointing the gun. With his other hand, he punches Josh in the ribs in rapid succession, then lands one right across Josh’s face, so hard that I think I can hear the bone crack. Josh grunts in pain, but doesn’t let go of the gun. I don’t know how, but he keeps fighting like a cornered animal: desperate and vicious.
"She's mine!" Josh roars before head-butting Connor in the nose. Connor rears back and loses his grip on Josh’s wrists just enough that Josh can yank it free, pointing the gun. I watch in stupefied horror, with part of me not really believing any of this is real. The gun goes off with a deafening blow and Connor jerks back with a yell, his body tumbling backwards and landing with a thud on the wooden floor. My world goes black for a minute and everything sounds like I’m underwater, a dull ringing in my ears. Then a scream pierces the air, pierces the strange bubble I’m in. An agonized, desperate scream unlike anything I’ve ever heard in my life.
