Page 73 of Coming Home to You
After Beck left, I was hurt and angry and bitter, but Finn wouldn’t just let me mope around.Every day after he got through with his shift, we’d head to the gym where we’d spend the evening working out my anger.It became a regular occurrence and after a while he began to teach me techniques he’d learned in defending himself against attackers.
At the time, I felt like I was just humoring him because when would I ever need to defend myself against an armed gunman?Even as a cop, I wasn’t entirely sure Finn would ever have to either; Rockport has never been a town known for its crime rate.
But right now, on the receiving end of a gun being pointed at the back of my head and a fucking psychopath on the other end of it, all of Finn’s teachings don’t seem so meaningless.
My eyes still closed, I replay Finn’s technique over in my head a few times.It’s all very quick and I know I need to act fast before Jason makes his next move.
I scream as loud as possible before turning around, my fist clenched and my forearm braced, connecting with Jason’s arm that is holding the gun in an attempt to knock it loose.Simultaneously, I bring my knee up and land a direct hit to his balls.While it works enough for me to run away, I’m unable to jar the gun loose from his grasp.
I don’t know where to run, my adrenaline pumping and my body still sore.I reach a bedroom and slam the door closed, but realize it has no lock.Knowing a door won’t stop him and sure he’s even more pissed off now, I push whatever I can move up against the door.
I run to the window in hopes of seeing someone; anyone, but what I hear are gunshots and I cower.Muffled, but still nearby, I realize they didn’t come from inside the house.Trying to piece everything together, I can only assume there has been some kind of shootout between the person guarding the house and someone else.
Looking around the room, I figure it must have been Rachel’s.It’s decorated with a floral quilt and a large four-poster bed.Next to the bed is a picture of Rachel and Jason, both smiling, but I know the truth behind the picture now.I won’t end up like her.
I know I can’t sit here on the floor and wait for someone to save me, this isn’t a fucking fairy tale, and there is no knight in shining armor, just a sick ass motherfucker hell bent on turning me into his possibly dead ex-girlfriend.
The knob to the door turns slowly and I pull myself up off the floor and unplug the lamp and grab it from the nightstand.Even with a small desk shoved against the door, I know this asshole is going to get through.
Standing to the side of the door, I give myself a count of three and with my foot, I shove the desk out of the way.It slides across the floor with a loud scraping noise and leaves the door unguarded and ready to be opened.
Seconds later Jason bursts through, but I’m ready and I hit him as hard as I can over the head with the lamp.
But again, I’m too small to cause any serious damage.He grabs the back of his head with one hand and screams out, “You bitch,” before turning his face towards me.
His eyes are crazy with hatred, his pupils large and the look on his face is frightening.Jason lunges for me and I move, but not fast enough and he grabs hold of my hair, yanking me back to him.
“Don’t you remember what happened the last time?”he hisses.“Don’t fight me, Rachel!”Shoving the gun behind his back in the waist of his pants, he wraps his hands around my neck.
“Tyson,” I gasp out, as my breathing grows weak.“You killed me last time, baby.Stop.”I can feel the tears falling from my eyes as I connect with his.
Jason’s grip loosens and I put my hands over his, peeling his fingers from my neck.
“I didn’t kill you,” he says confused.“You’re right here.”
Leaving him slightly stunned and confused, I place my hands on his shoulders in a sympathetic gesture, but immediately knee him in the groin.A loud breath escapes his mouth and I make a run for it.
Before I can reach the doorway, Jason grabs my leg and I fall hard to the floor.I can’t seem to catch a break and while I know he’s bigger than me, he seems to anticipate my every move.
Before I know it, I’m on the bed with Jason on top of me.I feel the heaviness of his body keeping me from moving, while his legs have my arms pinned.I begin to sob, each heave racking my body and making it hard to breathe.
Jason removes the gun from his waistband, and I get a good look at it.It’s a GLOCK, and from the looks of it, police issued.A small G30S, I remember looking at the catalog with Finn when he was trying to find a lighter weight model to order for the force in Rockport.
Why does Jason have a police issued gun?
But the more I process everything, the quicker it comes together.I swallow hard as it hits me.He used to be a cop.That explains so much now.How he was able to avoid the police every time, how he had access to those cameras he placed in my house, how he knew exactly how to defend himself when I came at him and even worse, how he knew how to kill Rachel and get away with it.
Panic is setting in as Jason smiles maliciously, the gun pressed to my temple now.
“I don’t understand why you can’t get it through your stupid fucking head that you are mine, Rachel,” he growls.“Mine!”he screams and I startle.
I nod my head almost imperceptibly, but it isn’t enough for him and he smacks me in the side of the head with the gun.
Blinding pain burns behind my eyes and I feel like I’m going to vomit.The room is growing dark as I realize I can’t see out of my left eye; I feel the blood running down my face as Jason runs his fingers through it.
Oh my god, he’s going to kill me.
“Look what you made me do?”he says, showing me his blood soaked fingers, but his voice is anything but concerned.“Now will you stop fighting me?”he asks harshly.
