Page 99 of Villainous Summer

My scalp screamed, and despite trying to keep myself together, I couldn’t stifle my reflexive tears.

“That’s right. Cry for me. Let me see those alligator tears. Not feeling strong now, are you?”

Panic rushed through me as he wrapped a hand around my throat and pressed down on my trachea.

“No, you’re not tough at all. Just a dumb bitch trying to take away what I’m owed.” His vise grip made my vision swim.

Scrambling against his chest, I pushed, scratched, punched for him to let me go, but my fight brought out a new strength in him. I clawed at his arms, but my nails couldn’t dig hard enough to get him to relent.

A vicious glint formed in his eyes as he squeezed, and my ears began to ring.

Is this terrible man’s face the last thing I will see? It can’t be.

I had Van. We were going to be together, and all of that was fading away as quickly as my sight as Cory crushed farther in.

I said a quick vow to whoever was listening, Please let me fight my way out. Please give me another chance. One more day with Van. One more.

I love him. I love him. I love him, and I need to find my way back to him.

Blood pulsed under my skin as I flailed around, looking for something—anything—to hit him with.

A teacup.

Holding it by the handle, I slammed it against his face where the china shattered, cutting his cheek open.

His grip loosened enough for me to drag a single breath of air in before he forced his weight on me again.

Black edged my vision.

Grasping what was left of the handle, I jammed the jagged edge into his face.

I couldn’t see where I was hitting, but I did it again and again.

At the sound of tearing flesh, something gave way, and hot, sticky blood poured down my hand.

He let go of me, and as I breathed in big jagged gasps of air, I stumbled to get to the front door. To get to the street, find a neighbor, something—anything but be in that house with him.

I took three steps down the hall as my sight returned, and I was almost to the door when I’m wrenched back by my hair.

As I kicked out behind me, my bare feet brushed off him a few times before I could make contact.

I opened my mouth to shout, but the sound was strained by my neck being pulled taut as he yanked my head back again, the act burning my throat.

As I fell onto my stomach, his heavy body landed on top of me.

Why didn’t I pay attention to action movies?

I bucked and flailed under him as he took my head in his hand and bashed my face into the floor. Blood poured as my nose cracked.

He screamed obscenities, calling me names, as he pulled my head back again.

A painting plummeted to the floor, shattering glass all over, and as he brought my head down, a piece sliced my neck.

The searing hot pain of being sliced paired with my weakening screams.

I used my remaining energy to roll to the side, kicking him in what I hoped was the groin. My foot made contact with something, but I didn’t look back to see what it was.

Scrambling to my knees, I crawled onto the front porch. Blood poured out of my nose and onto my white button-down as I dragged my body as fast as I could.

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