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Or both.
There were several big knives behind the bar, which was a few steps behind me through the saloon doors. All I had to do was reach one before he made it to me.
I pointed to the back door. “Deedee! Ohmygod. You okay?”
He turned his head toward the empty space, and I took off toward the front of the house through the double doors. I pushed them so hard, they slammed against the edges of the wall on either side and clipped me in the back as I jumped through.
I scrambled toward the knives under the counter and tripped on the mat. I plowed face-first into the floor, tangling with the rubber mat and spilled beer.Ooph!
I quickly got to my hands and knees, my eyes zeroing in on the tray. I reached hard, stretching my entire body to grab hold of a knife.Got it!
A strong hand yanked me back by my ponytail. I yelled, feeling my scalp lifting from my skull by the roots. Thankfully, my hair was long, and his grip was more toward the end of my ponytail. I twisted my body to face him and kicked his shin. With a yelp, he let go and fell back.
I held the knife in front of me with my shaking fist. “Stay the fuck back!” I yelled, jabbing at the air between us, but my knife didn’t seem to register with him.
Tall Guy got up, glaring with empty feral eyes that reminded me of an angry bull at the rodeo. He lunged, not giving me time to strike him head-on, so I maneuvered the tip of the blade at an angle into the meat of his bicep. I felt it hit bone.
But you know when they say that people in accidents, who are pumped with adrenaline and endorphins, don’t feel pain? That was what I was dealing with.
He straddled me with his large body and wrapped his hands around my throat. I tried to yell, but no air came out. I stupidly dropped the knife, hoping to slide my hands between his arms and dislodge him from my airway, but his grip was like a gator latched onto dinner.
I pounded my fists on his forearms, completely aware I was losing consciousness—the black fuzz around the periphery of my vision, the limp ache in my legs from lack of oxygen, and the sense of fear turning into a strange sleepiness.
Fuck me.This was no way to go. Sheriff Idiot would find my body and say to himself, “See. I was right. That gun in her purse would’ve saved her.”
How unsatisfying a death was that?
Tall Guy closed his hands with more force, causing the blood and oxygen flow to stop.
“How you like that, Trailer Park?” He laughed, red veins popping from his forehead.
“How do you like this?” said a dark, gravelly voice. Through the thick haze of impending death, I saw a shadow hovering behind my killer.
Tall Guy turned his head and jumped off me, his hands flailing defensively. I couldn’t see what was happening because the man with the gravelly voice moved with fluid motion and speed.
Blood went everywhere, showering me, the floor, and the ceiling. Everything around us turned red.
I drew in a breath, savoring the air entering my starving lungs. In the background, muted whimpers mixed with the sound of someone eating cold, crisp watermelon on a hot summer day. And then I went to sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Masie! The ambulance is on the way. Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?” Uncle Jimmie kneeled over me.
“Uncle Jimmie?” I mumbled with a raspy voice, feeling like I’d swallowed broken glass. I slid my hand to my neck and winced. My skin was raw, my throat throbbing in time with my accelerating heart.
“Don’t you move, darlin’. We’re getting help. Can you tell me who did this?”
“That guy,” I sputtered.
“Which guy?”
“Joe and Deedee saw ’im.” Suddenly, my stomach knotted.Oh God. Deedee!“Is she okay? I think he hurt her.”
Uncle Jimmie’s eyes filled with tears. In all my life, I’d never seen him cry. Not even at my daddy’s funeral. Not that Jimmie didn’t cry over losing his brother. I just never saw it.
I sat up, defying the blaring pain in my body. “Uncle Jimmie, where is she?”
His voice came out hollow, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “I found her out back in the parking lot.”
