Authors: Emma Mohr
That only made me feel half better. I didn’t want to force a man to have children with me if he didn’t want to, and I couldn’t stay with someone if they didn’t want kids. All it would do is lead to heartbreak and resentment. But we had only been together for a few months so there was plenty of time to talk about this. “Well,” I started, getting him to look at me, “we really don’t have to decide anything right away. We did just kind of start this whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, the vibrations in his chest tickling mine. “That’s true. Maybe we’ll come back to this conversation in a year or two.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan. But let’s try for a year.” His confusion almost made me smile. “Hey, my biological clock is ticking. I don’t know if it could last two years.” An eye-roll with a hidden smile on his face was my reply.
“Do you still have more packing to do?” There needed to be a subject change.
“Yes. I need more clothes, and I have to find more bags too.” He released me and started to search around the room.
“Alright. I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to grab some water. Want some?” Charles shook his head and thanked me. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.” He just waved over his shoulder as I headed out of the room. A little part of me hoped that he would get ready soon and come down. We could make out in the kitchen or something, like silly love-struck teenagers. I wouldn’t mind being bent over the counter.
With the house being perched as far from civilization as possible it was quiet. Too quiet for a girl used to having several televisions on all around her and noises from the street drifting in from the window. It made me uncomfortable. The urge to run quickly down the stairs and back warmed my legs in preparation. I had to laugh at myself.
You’re not in a horror movie, Amy.
I rolled my eyes at my own fear.
No one is going to try and kill you.
I jogged down the stairs, almost tripped, and headed into the kitchen. It was just as I remembered it. Nice and big and seemingly empty. “Shit,” my eyes roamed the many cabinets, “I don’t know where the glasses are.” Guess I was going to have to do it the old fashioned way. Open up each cabinet until I found them.
Next to the refrigerator, I remembered where that was, seemed like a good place to start. That was where I kept my glasses, and it made sense to me that others would do the same. Not there. And not in the next one either. I reached for the third cabinet when a voice from behind me said, “They’re in the next one,” making me freeze.
Ava. Ava had somehow gotten into the house and was behind me. My hand started to shake, and I moved to the next cabinet to hide it. Low and behold, there were the glasses. I grabbed one and headed to the faucet. “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying my best to keep the shakiness out of my voice. Somehow, I managed it. My tone was even cold. Go me.
A smile spread across her face like oil on water. God, she was beautiful, but so fucking insane. Why did that kind of stuff have to happen? Why can’t people be beautiful on the inside and out? “This used to be my house as well, you know. Not my fault Charles failed to change the locks.”
“I’m sure he didn’t expect his sister to break in,” I countered. The longer we talked, the more my fear was going to show, but the more chance Charles would come down and I would be safe. Ava was not someone that I trusted to be near me. Especially in the kitchen where there were a
lot
of weapons, and I lacked the ability to defend myself. I would fight back, but I would lose. From her toned body it was easy to tell Ava worked out, something which I failed to do. Really going to need to pick that habit up.
A short barking laugh from Ava. It made my hair stand on end. “I bet my brother likes that mouth of yours.” She sauntered over to the island. “You won’t have to worry about dear little Charles interrupting us.” There was a metallic
tink
as she set something on the island. A key. “I confined him to his room.”
Fuck.
Fuck
. I was totally fucked. There was a crazy bitch standing between me and the kitchen exit, and she had locked the only other person in the house, the only other person that even knew we were here, in his room. Whatever was about to happen, was not going to be pretty. Bile started to rise in my throat and my hands renewed their shaking.
That oil and water smile made its appearance once again. “I might have overestimated you.” Overestimated? Great, I was about to get insulted. Strange that the insult worried me more than the woman at that particular moment. “Most of the woman I get my hands on leave Charles after that. Not you. You stuck around for some odd reason. Is it because you’re a simpleton?” I opened my mouth to respond, but she shook her head, cutting me off. “No matter. I’m here to make sure you understand this time. Leave my brother. Now.”
I don’t know if it was because she was commanding me to do something or because she called me stupid, but my fear was gone. It vanished with the first heat of anger. “No.” Firm and unwavering, just as my voice should have been. She may hurt me, but I wasn’t going to let this bitch rule my life. Fuck her and her psychotic tendencies.
The smile slid off her face. “You really are stupid. I never imagined Charles being attracted to a moron such as yourself.” Her tone was so bland it frightened me more than if it had spat the words at me. I would much prefer the heat of anger than the inhuman voice she had given me. It just drove home that this was a person that could easily kill me and not feel a damn thing about it.
The muffled sounds of a door rattling and Charles yelling filled my ears. Unconsciously, my eyes went to the key on the island. I needed to get to that key, but I was going to have to fight Ava to get it. “Sorry to disappoint you,” I set my full glass on the counter, “but me and Charles are in it for the long hall. Even talked about giving me a ring.” Not exactly a lie, we did get a ring at Uncle Bob’s shop, but it was to go with that necklace I picked out. But the thin line Ava’s lips pressed into was quite satisfying. “He said something about his mother’s ring.”
That might have been incredibly stupid. Charles had told me his mother gave him her engagement ring when he talked about getting married to Rose. She wanted to keep it in the family. Ava didn’t get it because her husband had already given her a ring, and she felt it more right to pass it to Charles since her daughter was going to receive all of their mother’s jewelry. Charles had said it was a sensitive subject with Ava and I counted on that.
“
My
mother’s ring, you little whore!” There it was. That hiss of anger that I hoped for. Something to prove that she was human and could make a mistake. If I could get her to come toward me, I might be able to run past her and grab the key. A plan that relied too much on my abilities or there lack of. In other words, this wasn’t going to go my way.
Ava charged at me. In hindsight, I should have expected it and gotten out of the way. Instead, I found myself with her hands around my throat. My hands went to her wrist, instinctively trying to pull her away from me, but her strength was almost inhuman. Even scratching at her didn’t help. With my mind reeling and my body fighting of its own accord, I could think. Then, my hand bumped into the glass I had been drinking of. A moment of clarity and I grabbed the glass and smashed it over her head. Gulping in the air and coughing when it hit my burning throat.
There was no time to catch my breath. She would recover soon and I needed to get moving, because if she got me again, it was over. I pushed myself away from the counter and did a half-run half-dive to the counter. My fingers just brushed against the key when I was hit from the side with enough force to knock me to the ground. Before I could even register what had happened and catch my breath, something smashed against my ear. A ringing started and I felt sick. But something told me that I needed to keep moving and so I did, pushing away from whatever it was that was on top of me.
Before I could even roll to crawl away, fingers wrapped in my hair and yanked me back. “You’re not going anywhere, you fucking bitch.” The fog that had settled in my mind cleared. Ava was on top of me, and now had my hair in a death grip. Getting away just got ten times harder.
Without thinking about it, I swung my elbow back. Out of some magical gift of the gods, it actually hit her. Hit her in the side with enough force for her to loosen her grip. A miracle. A godsend. And one that I hoped to repeat. I lashed out once more, and once more, I hit her. Her fingers loosened enough that I could turn around and face her. With as much strength as I could muster, I punched her in the face.
There was a sickening
crunch
when my fist connected with her face. That was the first time I had hit someone with the intent to hurt them, and I didn’t regret it one bit. Not with this bitch. I would gladly hit her again if I knew I could hit my mark, but my hand was throbbing and I had been lucky I hit her in the first place with my equilibrium fucked up as it was.
The hit disoriented her enough that I was able to shove her off of me, sending out an extra kick. The more distance between us the better. I didn’t want to be caught by her again. There was a chance that if she did get me, she wasn’t going to let go, no matter how much I fought. This was going to end with me being seriously hurt if I didn’t get to Charles or a phone. Charles was preferable, since he might have the ability to stop his crazy sister.
The world spun as I scrambled to my feet. I swallowed the urge to vomit and grabbed the counter for support. Two steps and then I remembered that Charles was locked in his room. All I could hear was the ringing so I didn’t know if he was still in his room or not. As if he really had a way to escape.
The key. I needed the key that Ava had made sure I knew she had. My eyes fell to the counter where I last spotted it, and my heart fell when I saw it wasn’t there. Where was the key? “Shit!” I said, my voice high and shaky. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,
shit
!” Not good. That was not good. If I didn’t find that key, Charles would be stuck in the room while Ava murdered me, because that was her goal. You don’t choke someone without the intent of killing them.
Fuck it. I didn’t have time to waste searching for it. Ava was making it to her feet and I needed to move to a phone, my next best option. If I could even just get a dispatcher on the phone, maybe they could send someone to stop Ava. I could hole myself up in a room somewhere until they arrived. Though it was possible Ava had the keys to every room in the house, or she knew where they were.
My balance started to come back. It wasn’t the best, but it was enough to get me walking on my feet without falling out. The first step was easy, the second, on my left ankle, was not. It must have been injured when Ava had tackled me to the ground and it screamed at me. I had to bit my lips to keep myself from crying out in pain. But I needed to keep moving. Had to keep moving. Because the psychotic bitch was right behind me, and I needed to call the police and find a weapon.
There were plenty of pictures in the hallway with nice heavy frames, but they weren’t feasible. This was not a movie. A picture was not a weapon. It would only piss her off more. The frame would be good to use, but I doubted I could even lift the damn things off the walls. They were solid wood. Heavy and expensive. I would hurt myself more than Ava with those things.
A table was the next thing that I spotted. There was a vase with beautiful tulips in it, but I wouldn’t be able to use that. Glass had no effect on Ava. It would just disorient her when she needed to be knocked out. That was the only way I was going to survive this thing. Hit her in the head and knock her out.
Three steps toward the table was all I got before I was off of my feet again. My face smacked the ground bringing on a new wave of pain and dizziness. Fingers wrapped around my throat, tight and unyielding. Clawing and scratching at Ava’s hands resulted in nothing but hurting myself more. She just tightened her grip and I scratched myself several times instead.
Breathing became harder, and I started to see black spots on the edge. With nothing around me to use as a weapon, and not being flexible enough to hit her from behind me, there was no way to pry her off. This was it. This was how I died. Clawing and scratching, yes, but still being choked from behind. A slow and frightening death.
It became harder and harder to fight. The black spots consumed my vision until there was nothing but black. My hands fell away from my neck as I slipped into unconsciousness.
I awoke with a start to someone poking and prodding my sore neck. Instincts taking over, I grabbed their wrist squeezing them as hard as I could. My breath was heavy and my heart beat hard against my chest, eyes roaming around the room to take stock of where I was, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon.
“Ms. Jones,” the voice attached to the wrist I held called, gaining my attention. It was a man in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper hair and smile lines, bright blue eyes staring into mine. He was wearing light blue scrubs. “You’re alright. You’re safe now. I’m just trying to look at your throat.” It was a good effort, trying to reassure me, but I didn’t feel safe. I did let go of his wrist so he could continue his examination. He offered me a gentle smile. “You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital. Do you know where that is?”
The only response I could give was a nod. My throat felt as if something had tried to claw its way out of it, and I knew talking would only irritate it.