Page 23 of Beautiful Killer

My skin crawled, like a million ants and spiders, cockroaches were scurrying all over me.

He stood and looked down at me, the knife still in his hand, now stained with my blood. “Maybe . . .”

He took a step toward me . . .

A horn blared outside.

He cursed viciously, glanced at the door then back at me. “Don’t fucking move,” he said, words full of hate, of horrors, then snatched my phone off the bed where it had dropped and shoved it in his pocket. “I’m going to walk out the door, but I’ll know if you leave this room. Don’t make me cut you again.” Then he turned and left.

I heard a crash, the sound of smashing china, then the front door slammed shut. The squeal of tires followed a short time later, and I knew he was gone. It took everything I had in me to move. I knew his parting words were just a threat, that there was no way he would know if I moved, but my fear was a living, breathing thing, trying to suffocate me. Somehow, I forced myself to get out of bed, and stumbled down the stairs, crying out when I cut my feet on the broken vase he’d knocked to the ground. I reached the front door, trailing blood across the floor behind me, and fumbled with the door handle, my bloody fingers making it hard to turn.

I yanked the door open, stumbled down the stairs and over to my neighbors, then banged on the door. It was opened a few seconds later.

“Please . . . please help me. Someone broke in . . . and I’m . . . I’m bleeding.”

The woman standing here, someone that I’d only ever said hello to in passing, paled, then helped me inside. She wrapped me in a blanket and I sat there in shock until I heard sirens, until a police officer was knocking on her door.

* * *

“Oh God!” Julia cried as she rushed into my hospital room and pulled me into a tight hug.

Absently, I thought that this was only the second time we’d ever embraced. The first was the day of my father’s funeral.

I pulled back and shook my head. “I’m okay . . .”

“You’re not.” She actually looked distraught as she gripped my shoulders and took in the damage to my face. “God, look at you, Sunny.”

I pulled free of her hold, hating the pity I saw in her eyes. “How did you know I was here?”

“The hospital called. I must be listed as your next of kin or something.” She moved in closer. “I wish you’d called me. I would’ve come straight away.”

I obviously looked taken back because she flinched.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Julia said, crossing her arms. “I know we haven’t . . . always gotten on, and the way I left . . . I . . . God, I . . .” She bit her lip. “I’m just . . . I’m sorry.”

My eyes stung, heating, filling with tears. “It’s okay,” I choked out and gave her hand a squeeze. “They shouldn’t have bothered you with this.”

“Jesus, Sunny. We’re family.”

Were we? Did she really feel that way? “Julia . . .”

“Let me help. I want to help,” she said.

I blinked at the fierceness in her voice and more tears spilled over. Despite our differences, it was good to have her, to have someone here for me, to not be alone. I wasn’t too proud to admit that right then, I needed her. “I’d like that.”

Her hand lifted, like she was going to touch my face then dropped it. “Your face. How bad is it?”

My fingers automatically went to the thick white bandage taped to my cheek. “They think the nerve damage will be permanent.” They’d operated when I was brought in, but some of the nerves in my right cheek had been severed and they’d been unable to repair them.

She looked shocked. “It’s that bad?”

I squeezed her hand again. I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to think about it, so I changed the subject. “I’m allowed to go home tomorrow. I’d really like someone with me when I go back . . . if you have time?”

She twined her fingers with mine. “Of course.”

The next morning I was discharged, and Julia came through for me, for the first time since I’d known her. She helped me clean up the house and offered to stay with me for the night. I didn’t turn her down. She stayed the next night as well, and I appreciated it more than I could say. I had my security bumped up that first day, the guy I’d hired had installed another lock on the front and back doors, sensors on them both as well, and an outside light, but it didn’t help my nerves. I was barely sleeping and had only managed cat naps on the couch since I got home.

I didn’t know how I was going to handle being on my own, but it looked like I was about to find out.