Page 50 of Poisoned Promise
If they’re here, if they know where I live, how much do they know?
How safe is Alex?
Alex.
A last burst of adrenaline surges through me as I scramble at the floor with my hands until something sharp brushes my fingertips.
Pain is a thing of the past as I pick it up and immediately stab it into the side of the stranger’s neck.
He freezes and chokes, then he coughs and his grip on me slackens. I drop my hand.
A shard of the lamp now protrudes from his throat. Seconds later, a waterfall of blood surges from his mouth, soaking through the balaclava and splashing hot down onto me.
I reach up again, grab the shard and shove it deeper, then I use that grip to shove him off me.
He falls to the side and slouches against the wall, dead.
Blood warms my palm where the porcelain carved an arch across my palm.
Coughing desperately, I scramble to my feet and sprint for the door with my phone in hand. Alex’s location marks him as still at Mary’s but that doesn’t mean he’s safe.
If they found me here, they can find him there.
The drive to Mary’s is the longest of my life.
Pain becomes an afterthought over the swelling, all-consuming fear at how Alex is, if he’s safe and alive, or if I’m about to walk in on my worst nightmare. I can’t risk calling in case he’s hiding.
It’s a miracle my wrecked car holds it together all the way to Mary’s house, and by the time I park, my heart’s pounding so violently I can’t hear anything else.
Lights glow from behind the curtains.
My hands tremble, my knees knock together and my head thumps with pressure while I sprint up the path and toward the door.
As soon as I clutch the handle, it gives way with no pressure and my blood runs cold.
“Alex?! Mary?!”
I stumble inside and trip over the rug into the lounge, where I finally stop and gaze at the carnage in horror.
The sofa is ripped, the coffee table’s flipped over, and several pictures and trinkets have spilled from the fireplace, shattering over the floor.
Mary’s face down on the rug, her perfect white curls matted dark with blood and she’s utterly motionless.
“M-Mary?!”
“Mom?” Alex’s tearful voice cuts through my fog and I spin on the spot toward the kitchen.
“Alex!”
He stands there, face blotched and red with tears streaking down his cheeks but that’s not what turns my blood to white-hot, furious lava. Just behind him, his face emotionless, stands Felix.
Red mist descends.
“What the fuck did you do!?” I scream, lunging for Felix with every drop of my fear fuelling the rage at seeing him here with my crying son. “What did you do?!”
Felix’s fist slams into my face and there’s a split-second after contact where my head snaps back. Ssuddenly all I see is a beautiful, starry night sky.
Alex’s yell rings in my ears and the world goes dark and quiet.
