Page 165 of Like A Moth To A Flame

The unmistakable slamming of fists against the front door disrupted my thoughts, and the doorknob rattling set Duke on edge, standing in the foyer where he had been watching us, his brown eyes flashing between me and the door. A well-trained dog knew when to ignore orders, but he was unsure. I was his master, and I’d told him to stand down, but the scent of blood mixed with the smell of my fear was sending his brain into overdrive.

“Goddamn it,” Barrett hissed. “He’s like a cockroach. He doesn’t fuckingdie.”

Before his words could register, he reached over, his hand wrapping around my bicep and hauling me to my feet. I felt a flood of blood splash down my legs, and a sob fell from between my lips before I could bite it back.

Still wrestling with what to do, Duke backed away as we made it to the door, standing in the doorway that led into the living room, watching as the scene unfolded, and at that moment I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind.

It was a short-lived thought, however, when the pounding at the door came again, and the wrenching on the doorknob came harder. Briefly, I wondered if he would rip off the knob altogether.

“Vanessa!” Tommy’s voice sounded on the other side of the door, and it sent a surge of need pulsing in me that I couldn’t contain. “Open the door, Vanessa.”

“We’re gonna wait right here,” Barrett whispered in my ear, stepping away from the door and pulling me back along with him. He spun me around until my back pressed against his chest, and he aimed the gun at the closed door. “And when he walks in—”

He chuckled, like a purr in my ear, and a wave of nausea slid down my belly.

“You’re gonna watch him die.”

Every muscle in me tensed, ready for the sound of the gunshot, but nothing came. No loud crash of death upon my heart—and no more pounding on the door.

What happened? Had he given up? Maybe he knew Barrett was here. Maybe he was waiting for a signal, a moment when Barrett’s attention would waver.

My breaths came in short, desperate bursts, each inhale trembling with the strain of my fear and pain. I couldn’t make sense of the silence that had settled over the room. It was too quiet, and the absence of the door’s rattling made my nerves scream louder.

I felt Barrett shift behind me, his grip tightening. His breath was hot on my neck, a vile contrast to the coldness rooted in him. I heard a faint click, and my heart leaped—was it the sound of the door unlocking? No, it was just Barrett adjusting his hold.

“Tommy,” I whimpered, my voice barely a whisper, hoping that somehow he could hear me through the door. “Tommy, please…”

“Shh,” Barrett hissed, pressing the barrel of the gun against my temple. “He can’t hear you now. No one can hear you, Vanessa. No one but me. I’m gonna be the last one to hear you scream.”

The tension in the room was palpable, a taut wire waiting to snap. The sharp, rhythmic pains of labor wracked my body, and each wave dragged me deeper into a chasm of fear and despair. I could feel the blood trickling down my legs, the reality of what was happening pressing down on me with an unbearable weight.

“W-what if he doesn’t come?” I said, my voice shaking along with every limb. “What are you gonna do to me?”

His free hand lifted from where it looped around my waist and pressed against my throat instead, pulling me back and nearly off my feet. I couldn’t think—couldn’t breathe. Everything was flashing like a strobe, and my ears rang with a chattering, metallic sound.

“Whatever I want,” he said, his voice hot against the nape of my neck. “Everything I’ve thought about since that night in the basement.”

I wanted to wretch, to vomit in his face and kick him in the dirt. I felt my stomach churn, but it was quickly drowned out by my lack of oxygen. My fingers scrambled at his forearm, nails digging intohis flesh until it mounded and welted and I felt blood seep beneath my nails.

Suddenly, I saw Tommy standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes settling on me with a fire that made me shiver.

Behind me, Barrett gasped in panic and swung the gun towards Tommy, his movements frantic. Tommy didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, tackling Barrett with a force that sent them both crashing to the floor. Duke leaped to his feet, scrambling into the foyer, his booming barks echoing around me as I flung myself away from them, my skull pulsing and my stomach contracting painfully.

“Duke, get him!” Tommy yelled over the struggle. “Moth, go! Get out of here!”

I hesitated, my legs like lead as I tried to move, the pain in my abdomen bringing me to my knees, no matter how desperately I tried to get to my feet.

The sounds behind me were a blur of screaming and violence. Duke had fallen quiet, but the sound of Barrett’s frantic screaming told me he had hit his mark.

Fighting to get to my feet, I fell back to my knees, scrambling towards the door, each step a battle against the agony. I could hear Barrett’s painful shouts and Tommy’s fierce growls, but my focus was on my pain. I reached up, grabbing for the door handle, and on the back of my hand, all I saw was blood. The knob slipped from my hand—once, and then twice before I managed to flip the lock and pull it open.

Bright lights flashed behind my eyes, and every single breath was a struggle. The world outside was dark and silent, a stark contrast to the chaos behind me.

“I’ll kill you!” Tommy’s scream was the last thing I heard before the gun went off. Three separate shots split the sound of the night and sent the crickets into stunned silence around me as I slid out of the foyer and onto the front porch.

I didn’t dare look back.

I couldn’t see it.

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