Page 71 of Wreckage of Us
“Like I said,” he licks his lips. “Good times.”
“I will kill you both,” Arlene promises with resolve, her voice sounding steadier now. I really need her to speed this up so I can call an ambulance and tend to Dylan’s chest wound. Because I refuse to believe he’s not alive. I haven’t told him that I loved him yet, so him dying is not an option.
“You don’t have it in you, Arlene,” Bricks puts his head back and laughs, with Snake following suit. “So quit playing. I really just want the girl,” he points at me. “Well, I want her baby, but I’ll have to deal with her until the baby is born, yeah?”
“Never,” Arlene yells and pulls the trigger.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to avoid seeing a man’s brains blown to pieces. But nothing happens. Just a soft click.
“Arlene,” I whimper in distress.
“Aww,” Bricks tsks at her. “No bullets?”
20
Becca
I stand frozen in spot,my mind completely shattered by what’s happening. I decide that no matter what, I have to get out of it alive and with a healthy baby in my belly. I need to focus on that and not on Dylan’s prone form on my living room floor.
“You think you’re winning.” Arlene sounds a lot more confident than our situation warrants, but I’d do the same if I had anything to contribute to the conversation with.
“I know I’m winning, Arlene,” her husband snickers. The other man, Snake, is still standing in the open sliding door, watching both me and Arlene and licking his lips. It makes me feel dirty and grossed out. Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I start praying that I won’t throw up in the next five seconds.
Stay focused on the baby, I tell myself, my eyes going straight to Dylan, then to the baseball bat with which I am hoping to save the day.
I catch movement outside the door, on my deck and my breath hitches in the back of my throat. I start shaking from the pressure of not moving a muscle when I see Jessica’s big eyes taking in the scene inside my living room. If Snake turns his head just a little, he’ll see her.
“So,” I clear my voice to make sure everyone’s attention is on me. Arlene is probably seeing the same thing I am, but she’s not giving it away. “You are going through all this trouble because you want Dylan’s baby?” I ask his father, raising an eyebrow up with attitude.
“You got it,” he smirks at me.
“That’s pretty sick and twisted,” I state with disdain. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“Frankly,” he shrugs, but only one shoulder goes up, ”I don’t give a fuck what you think. However, I will tell you that I will delight in every second I will take when destroying Arlene’s grandchildren.” The evil smile he directs to Dylan’s mom is giving me the chills.
My mind is going a mile a minute, trying to figure out how I can grab that bat and get him on his bad side. I am convinced that’s the way to do it.
While I’m busy strategizing, I almost miss Jessica sneaking back in. I watch in fascination as she lifts my mother’s cast iron pan that I had outside, takes aim at Snake’s head and swings hard. Snake drops to the ground with a loud thud.
“What the…” Bricks turns around abruptly, the shock on his face not hard to miss. He lifts his good arm and takes aim at Jessica. The precious few seconds he takes to do that are just enough where I can bend over to grab the baseball bat.
I rush behind Bricks, take position and swing, thanking God for the couple of years of softball my dad forced me to play when I was in middle school. He goes down, but is not out. I see him struggling to keep a hold on his gun.
“Fuckin’ bitches,” he mutters under his breath, but I don’t give him time to regroup. I swing the bat again and again, aiming it mostly at his head, until he is not moving anymore.
The sound of Jessica dropping the pan to the ground snaps me out of my shock induced cloud of aggressiveness I am under.
“You got him, honey,” Arlene wraps her arms around me, holding on tightly. “My sweet girl,” she cries.
I look down and moan in shock when I remember that I have to take care of Dylan.
“Call for help,” I tell Arlene and Jessica right before I drop to my knees next to Dylan. “Baby,” I whisper and hold back the tears. I need to be strong and focused. That’s the only way I can help him right now.
I put my fingers on Dylan’s neck, praying to feel his pulse. At first, there’s absolutely nothing, or I am too wound up to concentrate well enough. I take a few calming breaths and try again. And there it is. His pulse is very weak, but it’s there, and that’s all I need to know.
“Fuck,” a new voice echoes in my house. When I look up, I see Malone. He takes in Dylan on the floor, unconscious, and his eyes go big. He then lifts his head a bit to look at me. The pity I see in them is almost my undoing, but I can’t give up yet. I willnotgive up.
I hear sirens in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. I am scared to move Dylan or even to lift his sweatshirt, just in case I dislodge something in there and make things worse.
