Page 97 of Finally Mine
Max’s three legs skittered on the kitchen tile as Lola’s warning growl sounded from the dining room.
“Shit.” Hannah let go of Gloria and dove for the little dog before he could run straight into danger. Sophie opened the basement door, and Hannah set him on the top step before slamming the door.
“Gloria! Go!” Sophie shouted.
“Well, look who’s home,” a familiar voice cackled from the dining room, and Gloria’s blood ran cold. The memory of a hundred beatings washed over her, freezing her to the spot. The inevitability of it broke her heart. It was always going to happen. No amount of laws could protect her. No new boyfriend or new friends or new life could keep her safe.
Glenn was here. He came for her, and Harper was facing him alone…
“Gloria’s gone. She’s safe and calling the cops right now.” Harper’s words reached them in the kitchen. Sophie grabbed her phone.
“Get the fuck here now, Ty. Now!”
Gloria’s phone vibrated against her leg.
“Gloria you need to run,” Hannah told her, pushing her toward the back door. “We’re not going to let him hurt you.”
Gloria watched her hand reach for the handle on the back door as if it belonged to someone else. Her worlds had collided. And she was supposed to run away? She was supposed to let him hurt them?
She heard shouting from the front room. Heard a growl and a scuffle and a sickening thump.
Hannah spotted the baseball bat leaning next to the back door and grabbed it, her fingers wrapping around it in a white-knuckled grip. “Sophie? You with me?”
Sophie, eyes blazing, held up the knife. “Let’s get this fucker.”
“Go,” Hannah told Gloria again. She turned and ran with Sophie into the dining room.
Every cell in her body was screaming “run.” Run out the back door and never stop. Run until she was someone else with no history. But she couldn’t start this new life by running away. This was her mess. Her problem. And he was hurting her friends.
It was her turn to make a stand.
The realization unfroze her. She ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the first thing she saw—the cast iron skillet on the stove.
She didn’t think, just let her feet carry her into the dining room. She took in the scene, not knowing if milliseconds or minutes passed.
Glenn was on top of Harper on the floor, a hunting knife to her throat. Hannah was winding up for another swing with the bat, and Sophie was kicking him in the ribs, screaming, “Drop the knife, you crazy fuck!” And then Gloria was flying in slow motion. Glenn lifted his gaze to hers. Their eyes locked for an eternity frozen in time. Years of history passed between them. Of victim and abuser. Of woman and man. Of all they never had. Gloria saw the sick hatred, the desire for violence in his dead eyes, and swung with all her might.
He wasn’t human anymore. But she was. She deserved a life without a monster.
She didn’t know she’d hit him until she felt the vibrations of cast iron hitting skull rolling up her arms as his body collapsed onto the floor.
Everyone was screaming except for her. She was unearthly calm.
“Holy fuck!” Sophie shouted.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Hannah chanted.
“Get him off me!” Harper groaned, her voice raspy. “He’s crushing me.”
Still numb, Gloria grabbed Glenn by the collar and, with Hannah’s help, shoved his dead weight onto the dining room rug.
Lola belly crawled up to Harper. “My sweet girl,” Harper whispered, stroking the dog’s fur, causing her rear end to wiggle.
Gloria stared down at his unmoving body. The knife now harmless on the floor. There was a thin line of blood on Harper’s throat. One more second. One more millimeter.
“Tape him up!” Sophie ordered, producing a roll of camo duct tape from God knows where.
Hannah bravely straddled the monster and yanked his arms behind his back.
