by V.K. Sykes
When Holly heard the knock at her door, then Nate’s voice, she didn’t think. She screamed.
“Nate! He’s got a gun!”
With a curse, Arnold slammed the flat of his palm into her chest, pounding her backwards. The back of her head smashed into the kitchen cupboard. Dazed, her vision swimming, Holly collapsed onto the cold ceramic floor.
“Stupid bitch!” Arnold roared. “Now, you’ve gotten your boyfriend killed, too. It’s your fault he’s fucking gonna die.”
He spun around, aiming the gun at the front door.
Holly pulled herself up, gasping in deep breaths to clear her head. She felt little pain, the adrenaline pouring through her body keeping it at bay. For now, all she could focus on was that black killing machine in Arnold’s steady hand. It pointed straight at the front entrance. Straight at where Nate must be standing behind the door.
She rolled onto her side and screamed again. “Don’t come in, he’ll kill you! Call the police!”
Please, Nate! Get out of here or he’ll kill you, too.
Arnold fired three times, each shot a terrifying explosion. The bullets tore through the front door, splintering the wood in their path. Holly flinched and cowered against the cabinets.
“You bastard!” she screamed. “It’s me you want. Not him!” She grabbed the oven door handle and used it to pull herself to her feet.
Arnold snorted, his face contorting into one of those sickening grins. If it was the last thing she ever did, she’d try to wipe it off his wretched face.
“If the son of a bitch gets the hell out of here right now, he lives,” Arnold spat. “If he comes in that door, he dies. His choice.” Arnold grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward. “You’re coming with me.”
She stumbled forward with him, pushing aside the pain now blossoming in her injured hip. She had to stay strong. For Nate as much as for herself.
Arnold moved carefully, and as he passed the open door to the garage he poked his head inside, obviously checking it out. He must have been satisfied, since he resumed his careful steps toward the front door, dragging her behind him as she tried uselessly to yank herself free from his powerful grip. She let her weight hang heavily, trying at least to slow him down.
