by Blake Pierce
Ms. Rossi’s voice was rough with rage and Nina howled in protest, abandoning all self-control as she succumbed to screaming hysterics.
Cassie felt physically sickened by what was happening.
This was out of control. No matter that the other woman was stronger than her, she had to get them away. Perhaps she could manage to lock them somewhere safe, or else take them with her to the police station, and describe exactly what had just played out.
If the local police were bought, she was going to call their bosses. She would not stop—she would not—until these children were protected from this vicious abuse.
Sprinting after Ms. Rossi, she grabbed at her arm again, and this time she was able to tug the tall woman off balance. With a curse, she let go of her daughter and Nina, sobbing, crawled out of reach.
The next moment, Cassie saw fireworks all over again as Ms. Rossi slapped her face, as hard as a hammer blow.
The shock of the impact knocked the breath out of her, and before she could gather herself together, another vicious slap jerked her head back.
Ms. Rossi was beating her methodically, and Cassie could hear the grunt of effort and the huff of her breath as each slap landed. Blows ricocheted off her cheeks, her neck, her mouth. She fell to her knees, shrinking back, cowering down.
She heard her own voice, a breathless whimper.
“Please stop! Stop it, you’re hurting me. Stop!”
But the punches and slaps kept coming.
Cassie was suddenly taken back to the time when she was nine years old. A helpless, terrified youngster, she had crouched in the corner of the kitchen while she was kicked and shoved. Her attacker had yelled out incoherent abuse, with the fumes of alcohol reeking from every slurred word.
It hadn’t been her father, not that time. The attack had come from the most aggressive and unstable of his girlfriends, Elaine, the blonde woman with the high, shrieking laugh. Cassie had mistrusted her on sight, and had quickly grown to hate and fear her.
She’d had no choice but to endure the abuse then—even though the enforced helplessness had left deep emotional scars. Now Cassie remembered those early experiences, how it had made her feel small and powerless and all alone, and how she’d promised herself when she left home that never, ever again would she let this happen.
Never, ever again, she had resolved, would she allow another person to hurt her that way.
Now it was happening again and Cassie felt something inside her snap, as if Ms. Rossi had crossed a line that Cassie hadn’t even known, until that moment, had existed.
Somehow she found the speed to dodge the next blow, ducking down so that the brutal punch passed harmlessly over her. Then, with Ms. Rossi caught off balance, Cassie leaped to her feet and shoved her backward.
The tall woman reeled away, stumbling on her high heels as Cassie drew her hand back and hit her in the face with all her might.
The blow sounded like the crack of a whip and Ms. Rossi’s head snapped sideways. Now she was shrieking, but in a different tone, as Cassie attacked. All the anger, all the frustration at the obscene treatment of the children, boiled inside her. The next punch, to Ms. Rossi’s neck, brought the woman sagging to her knees.
Cassie shoved aside her flailing arms. She landed another punch to the side of her jaw. While she was staggering off balance, she kicked her in the knee with all her might. Ms. Rossi went down with a cry, sprawling on the floor, shrieking in pain and outrage.
Leaping in for the attack, Cassie kicked her again, this time in the head.
Ms. Rossi’s screaming suddenly stopped.
Cassie stood over her, panting, unable to believe what had just happened. The tall woman was breathing rapidly, but her eyes were half closed and blood was trickling from her nose. Cassie thought that the kick in the head must have stunned her.
She was tempted to kick her once more, to slam her foot with all her might into that perfectly coiffed dark head, but her blind rage was ebbing. She’d done enough. She’d fought the woman back and bested her and she was beaten.
Now her main priority was the children.
She needed to get them into a safe place as quickly as she could, and then call urgently for the authorities to intervene.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
“Nina? Venetia?” Cassie called. She hurried back down the corridor, hoping the girls were all right, and that they had not been too badly traumatized by what had happened. If Nina was injured after that prolonged beating, it might delay their plans for escape.
There they were, huddled together under the mahogany table in the corridor, keeping out of harm’s way as best they could.
“Come, girls,” she said breathlessly, bending to help them out of their temporary shelter. “Nina, are you OK? You’re not too badly hurt?”
“I think I’m all right. Where are we going?” Nina asked, her voice high and shaky.
“We need to find somewhere safe. I’m going to—” Cassie hesitated, thinking fast. The responsibility for their safety rested on her shoulders now.
“I’m going to take you to a police station,” she said. Once they were in the car, she could drive to the other side of the city and hopefully find a precinct where the police hadn’t been bought. “Will you be brave enough to describe what has happened to you and to ask the police to stop it from happening again?”
“I will do that,” Venetia assured her and Nina nodded.
“Me, too,” she promised.
“All right.”
Cassie was shaking from the aftermath of the fight. She felt battered, her head was throbbing, her face felt raw with pain, and she was sure she’d have bruises from where she’d been attacked. Despite this, she had fought back and won, and that had bought her a few precious minutes to get out and find a place of safety.
But as she helped Venetia out from under the table, the girl’s face twisted in fear.
“Watch out!” she cried.
Her eyes focused behind Cassie, and the click of approaching heels warned her, too late, that her adversary had not been defeated.
Panic surged inside her. She spun round, but she was off balance, and the attack was too swift and vicious for her to protect herself.
Ms. Rossi was holding a large porcelain vase high in the air, and as Cassie turned, she smashed it down onto her head.
Cassie screamed, reeling back. It felt as if her head had split open. Shards scattered around her and she fell back against the table. Its sharp edge bruised the base of her spine.
“Stop! Wait! Just wait. This is madness. We need to calm down!” Cassie cried, but her voice seemed to come from far away and she realized that the situation had already ramped far beyond any control.
Ignoring her words, Ms. Rossi leaped at her, shouting out a furious gabble of threats. Cassie realized she had only two choices now—run, or fight back. Running was out of the question, because the other woman’s hands with those talon-like fingernails were grasping and thrusting like blades, pinning her against the table.
Cassie twisted away just in time to prevent one of the nails from stabbing her in the eye. Instead, it grazed her cheek. She kicked and fought, but she was defending herself against madness and every time she opened her eyes she saw a claw-like hand slicing toward her.
Ms. Rossi grabbed her hand, bending her finger back so hard Cassie thought it would snap. The pain was so sudden and vicious it was nauseating. Then she had her hands round Cassie’s throat and she heard herself choking, gagging, as those clenching fingers crushed her larynx and tightened around her windpipe.
Terrified, Cassie realized that Ms. Rossi was doing more than trying to subdue her; she was actually trying to kill her. Those bony fingers felt like steel, biting deep into her flesh, and she couldn’t prize them loose. Cassie felt darkness gather in the corners of her vision and blood pounded behind her eyes.
Then Ms. Rossi jerked backward and bellowed in wrath.
The death grip on Cassie’s neck loosened and then released.
As Cassie dragged in a choking gasp of air, she saw that Nina had attacked her mother from behind. She’d leaped onto her back and grabbed a double handful of her hair. She was yanking it, and kicking the tall woman in her thighs and knees for all she was worth.
Cassie choked, barely able to breathe and unable to speak. Dizzily she staggered upright.
Ms. Rossi twisted round, grabbing her daughter’s dress, even as Nina pummeled desperately at her arm. With a violent shove, she dislodged her.
“How dare you!” Her hand flew out and she struck Nina hard across the face. Then she spun round, lashing out at Cassie while uttering curses and threats that chilled Cassie’s blood.
“You will not get away with this, you little bitch. You have signed your death warrant. How dare you turn my children against me and attack me in my own home. Ask anyone who has gone against me. I will crush and destroy you. Your life is over!”
Her plans to get the children out lay in ruins. Now it seemed none of them would leave the house, and Cassie could only imagine what Ms. Rossi would do in revenge.
Desperately, she grabbed at the tall woman’s arm but she was too quick. Her nails dug into Cassie’s wrist and twisted viciously.
Cassie screamed, jackknifing sideways to try and save her wrist.
“Let go!” she cried, but Ms. Rossi bore down on her wrist with all her might and pain flared as Cassie felt the joint pulled to snapping point.
“No!” Venetia cried. “Stop it! You’re the one who’s hurt us, and I hate you!”
In a fury of whirling limbs, the young girl launched herself at her mother, cannoning into her midriff and knocking the air out of her.
Cassie wrenched her wrist away. This woman was unstoppable. She needed to bring her down again, try and bang her head against the floor and this time, kick her hard enough so she couldn’t get up. Crazy thoughts spun through her mind of tying her up with one of her own belts, to give them the chance to escape.
“Get away!” Ms. Rossi shrieked at her daughter, but Venetia danced sideways, avoiding her mother’s clutching hands, and punched her stomach again so that Ms. Rossi recoiled, staggering back.
This was her chance.
Cassie lunged toward her with her arms outstretched. This was her chance to grab her neck and wrestle her to the floor.
From behind her she heard Nina shout something and in an instant, Cassie realized that their struggles had taken them all the way to the top of the tall staircase.
Off balance and with the wind knocked out of her, Ms. Rossi was teetering on the edge, her silver heel a hair’s breadth away from the first marble stair.
Cassie lowered her head and clenched her hands and lunged forward. From the corner of her eye she saw Nina, darting up to her side.
Ms. Rossi shrieked in dismay.
Cassie watched the woman tumble and fall down the stairs. She landed heavily on her back. The impetus wrenched her head sideways and her scream cut off abruptly. After that, it was like watching a rag doll jolt and roll—in boneless, sprawling silence, until she reached the bottom and lay there, unmoving.
Cassie stared at her own hands. Fists clenched, arms out in front of her.
What had happened?
Her hands were trembling violently and she lowered them, taking in the figure far below, at the bottom of the marble stairs. It looked crumpled and small.
Her head whirled and she clutched the balustrade for support even as Nina grabbed her from behind and held on with all her strength.
“Don’t fall, don’t fall,” Nina pleaded, as Cassie’s world tilted and swayed, and her hand, slippery with sweat, slid on the polished railing. She clutched it with all her strength, gasping as a wave of nausea hit her.
Her eyes were drawn to the shape at the foot of the staircase, lying so still, but she felt unable to take in the reality of the situation.
The businesswoman was stunned, wasn’t she?
Any moment now, she would scramble to her feet and this vicious battle would resume.
“Ms. Rossi?” Cassie hardly recognized the hoarse, broken whisper, rasping from her bruised and painful throat.
“Ms. Rossi? Ms. Rossi?”
As hard as she listened, Cassie could hear only silence in response.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“Please, be careful going down.”
Cassie heard Nina’s worried voice, but it seemed to come from far away. She staggered down a step, hanging onto the railing with all her strength.
“We need—we need to see.”
The stairs seemed endless, dizzying. Her shell-shocked gaze focused on tiny details along the way.
A few strands of dark, wavy hair were lying on the marble.
A smudge of red. Blood, or lipstick? It looked dark and rusty against the pale surface.
A silver spike—it took a moment for Cassie to realize it was one of the heels from those stylish boots. It had snapped off, and was lying halfway down the marble stairway.
Below it, a few crumbs of glass glinted. Where were they from?
Another step down, and Cassie gasped as she saw Ms. Rossi’s face.
Her eyes were wide and unseeing. Her mouth was open, motionless, and the trickle of blood from her nose had dried to a dark rust. After the physical fight, Cassie was still gasping for air, but Ms. Rossi’s chest was still. She didn’t look to be breathing at all.
Her left arm was twisted at a terrible angle, and the face of her gold watch was smashed.
Cassie stared down at her, dazed, unable to take in the truth of what she was seeing.
She remembered her own extended arms, the way she’d changed her grip. She’d been intending to grab and hold the other woman’s neck, but then she’d bunched her hands together, as if intending to shove something, or someone, away. She didn’t remember actually making contact, though.
Ms. Rossi had been on the edge of the stairs. She’d overbalanced, despite Nina’s shouted warning. It hadn’t been—it couldn’t have been—that Cassie had read the situation and in a split second had cannoned her weight into the other woman and sent her tumbling and somersaulting all the way down this steep stairway.
Surely Ms. Rossi had fallen before Cassie could reach her? Her shoe must have been damaged in the fight, and the heel had broken, and she’d lurched backward and plummeted down the stairs.
Try as she might, a cold, insistent voice inside Cassie’s head kept telling her that it had not happened that way. That she had seized the moment and shoved the woman down the stairs with all her strength, wanting to hurt her and hoping that it would cause her lasting, permanent damage.
Realizing the full intent behind her actions, Cassie felt sobs rising inside her. Her chest heaved as the implications hit home. Ms. Rossi had fallen to her death, and Cassie had been the one who had pushed her.
Then she let out a cry as she realized the girls had seen everything. They had been fighting beside her. They’d watched their own mother die. Despite the abuse, the awful punishments, she was still their mother. The girls would blame her. Of course they would, regardless of what she had done to them in the past. The best thing Cassie could do, would be to call the police and give a full confession and turn herself in.
How could these young girls ever recover from what they had just witnessed?
Cassie blinked tears away. She couldn’t bear to look at that twisted corpse a moment longer—those sprawling limbs and blank, staring eyes, and that broken shoe. It represented the end of the road, the final result of her actions, from which there could be no return.
Cassie held her hands out in front of her again, and looked at her narrow palms and slim, tapered fingers.
Could they have pushed a woman to her death? Could she have done it?
Fearfully, Cassie raised her gaze and it traveled up the marble stairs. All the way at the top, she saw the two girls standing and watching her in silence.
Cassie took a trembling step up, and then another. She dreaded what would happen when she reached them. H
ow would she break the news to these children? They must already suspect it, but be waiting for her to confirm the truth.
Bitter regret filled her. The consequences were irreversible. There was no going back from this and if she had been able to replay the scene at the top of the stairs, Cassie knew she would have done it differently, because the end of their mother’s life had changed the children’s lives, and hers, forever.
Her mind cringed away from the confrontation, the angry blame, and the screaming tears that would follow. She knew she didn’t have the strength to cope with it. No apology in the world could atone for the disaster that she had caused. She would have to summon the strength to survive the nightmare of the next few minutes. After that, the police could take charge.
The police would ask questions which she would need to answer. How would she reply to them when she herself could not clearly remember what had occurred?
Cassie reached the top step. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look the children in the eye. They deserved her honesty and full disclosure about what had happened and how. She would have to shoulder the responsibility. There was no other option.
“Girls,” she said. Her voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper.
Nina looked up at her and Cassie saw nothing but trust in her wide, brown eyes.
“Girls, I’m so sorry. So very sorry. Your mother is dead.”
The silence that followed rang in her ears.
She saw the children turn to each other and exchange that glance she was used to seeing, as if they were silently confirming something between the two of them.
Then Nina looked up at her again.
“I know,” she agreed somberly. “She is not moving and definitely dead. I think we should clean up the mess before anyone sees.”
Cassie felt her mouth fall open as she stared down at the young girl who regarded her, solemn and calm.
Was she hallucinating after this terrible experience? Or had Nina really suggested that they cover up the evidence of the fight?
