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My shaky fingers worked at the locks on the door.
But just as I was reaching for the knob, a hand shot out, grabbing my hair, and wringing down with every bit of strength in his body.
Despite myself, a hiss escaped me as he pulled harder still, making tears spring to my eyes.
I could barely see through them as I tried to wrench away.
My free hand reached into my bra, finding the pen, and shoving in the general direction of the man’s throat.
I wasn’t naive enough to think I’d luck out and hit an artery, but I just wanted to hurt him hard enough to make him let my hair go.
I was so close.
So so close to the door.
I just had to grab the knob, then rush outside.
Scream bloody murder.
Someone would hear.
Someone would come.
“Ah!” he screamed, releasing my hair to yank the pen out of his skin. I didn’t stop to see how deeply it had embedded, just grabbed blindly for the knob, and pulled.
I was in the doorway when it slammed into me, making white-hot pain spread up my side.
But not enough to stop me.
Not with freedom being so close.
It was pitch-black outside, but I could see porch lights in the distance.
I rushed down the steps as my hands folded the chain into one thicker weapon, then turned, and whipped it with all my strength, catching him across the face, but not getting him on the ground, not slowing him down.
He could feel me slipping away.
Close.
I was so close.
And he knew that he’d never get me a third time.
Not now that I’d seen his face.
He couldn’t let me go again.
And he was coming at me like that, seemingly blind to the pain even as I saw the skin redden and start to swell across his cheek.
I tried to strike again, but he grabbed the chain.
I was quick enough to drop it, so he couldn’t use it against me, but my only choice was to turn and run.
But he was bigger.
Longer-legged.
Faster.
