He was a brutal-looking man. I recognized him right away with his bald head and tightly trimmed goatee. He smiled at me when I screamed and I saw the knife flash out, and it caught me across the fleshy part of my arm before I realized I should be fighting back. Only I was in the bathroom, in my pajamas and completely unarmed. I was as helpless as I had ever been in my life. It wasn’t a fair fight by any stretch of the imagination, and just as I realized I should make noise or try and run he lashed out with a closed fist and punched me in the face. It was a hard enough blow that I fell immediately to my knees.
He put a hand in my hair and jerked my head closer to his crotch as he brought his knife down and touched the tip to my cheek. “No wonder Conner has such a hard-on for you. You’re even better up close and personal.”
The sting of the blade and his crude words were like a slap across the face. I had no clue how he had gotten inside the condo, but I knew only one of us was walking out the front door.
“Conner is a lunatic. He’s ruining lives because of a man that was a sociopath, a man that didn’t claim him as his own until he needed him!” I didn’t think, I just threw my head forward until my forehead connected solidly with the vulnerable parts of his body hidden behind his zipper. It was enough of a shock that he doubled over, giving me enough room to move around him. I scrambled on my hands and knees out the bathroom door, leaving a sizable chunk of my hair in Zero’s fist. He swore and dove for me, but I was faster, and as soon as I cleared the bathroom I got to my feet and made a mad dash for the stairs.
The Glock was still in my purse. No one had seen Booker and I wasn’t ready to admit to anyone else that I had it, and right in that moment I was so glad I hadn’t gotten rid of the weapon.
When I was halfway down the stairs I was hit from behind hard enough to pick me up off my feet and send me flying through the air. I didn’t hit any more stairs and crashed to the ground floor with all of Zero’s weight on top of me. My teeth tore into my bottom lip, my chin cracked into the hardwood with enough force to make me black out for a second, and my palms and knees lost the first layer of skin as I hurriedly tried to find any kind of traction on the floor to get away from the oppressive weight on my back.
He swore at me, called me filthy names, and flipped me over so that he was straddling my waist. The knife glided across my chest as I swung wildly at him with my fists and tried to claw at him with my fingernails. He just laughed at my struggles and used the blade to cut the strap of my tank off of one of my shoulders. I screamed at him as he told me all the disgusting things he was going to do to me as the knife dug into my chest. I screamed until I had no air left but that just seemed to egg him on as he leaned down and bit the exposed slope of my breast where the fabric of my shirt had been torn away. He swatted my hands away and used his free hand to wrap around my throat.
All I could taste was panic and blood and he applied pressure and continued to nick at my skin with the blade. I kicked my legs uselessly under him as he went on and on about how hot Conner told him I was in bed, about all the obscene and awful things he’d been doing to himself while watching me for the last few months. It was gross and far more violating than the way he was sitting on me and the way he was choking me.
I was starting to see spots around the edge of my vision. I needed air, but no matter how much I pried at his hard fingers he didn’t loosen them an inch. I heard my phone ring from somewhere in my purse. It made him laugh as he moved his lips over my own where I was gasping like a landlocked fish for any kind of breath.
“Is that the cop? Imagine how fun it will be for him to find you like this. Broken, ripped apart. Covered in filth and another man. I only wish I could be around to see his face. Conner will love that.”
I had to do something, and since fighting wasn’t getting me anywhere, I decided to stop. I let my arms fall to the floor next to his legs. I stopped kicking and jerking my legs and hips. I went stone still and lay under him like I was already a corpse. I saw triumph flash in his beady eyes and he pushed his grotesque mouth to my own again.
“I like it better when you fight, but this works too.” I forced myself not to move a single muscle as he loosened his hold around my throat and started to rub the edge of the blade along where I was sure my pulse was hammering. Before I could change my mind or evaluate the risk involved, I lifted my head up off the floor just a little bit like I was going to kiss him back and sank my teeth into his lip. I felt flesh rip, felt blood surge, but it was enough to once again throw him off balance so that I could wiggle out from underneath his bulk. The knife raked across my skin with a stinging burn as I got myself free, but I couldn’t stop to think about how bad the cut might be. Instead I ran for my purse and almost started crying on the spot when my fingers touched the chilly metal of the gun.
He was close again. I could feel him. So I released the safety and turned around already pulling the trigger without aiming. I fired and fired, each shot louder than the previous one. I fired until the clip was empty and my shoulder felt like it was dislocated from the recoil. The entire loft smelled like blood and gunpowder as Zero slumped over in a heap on the floor at my feet. I hadn’t hit him with all the rounds, but enough had made contact that he wasn’t a threat anymore. The knife now sat useless and covered in crimson on the floor next to his lax form.
I called 911 only to be informed that units were already on the way to my location due to reports of shots fired. I told the dispatcher there was a dead body on the scene and then Race and Brysen were suddenly there hustling me out of the apartment and asking me a million questions. No one heard me screaming, but they sure as hell heard the gun go off. Before I could even start to process what they were asking or the fact that I was bleeding and probably going into shock, the cranky detective was all in my face asking more questions, and all I could tell anyone was that I wanted Titus.
I just wanted my cop.
Speaking of, the bathroom door swung open and his big frame was suddenly filling the space. “Are you okay in here?”
Without my noticing it, the water had gone cold, and I was just sitting in the tub crying. I lifted my hands to rub at my cheeks and went to stand up.
“Yeah. I just needed a minute.” I was always fighting. Fighting someone, something, fighting myself. I wasn’t used to being the victim, to being weak and out of control.
I never got to my feet. Before I could stand up, his strong arms were around me and under me and he was cradling me to his chest. Soaking himself and the bathroom floor in the process. I didn’t argue. I just wrapped an arm around his thick neck and let him take me to his bed still dripping wet and teary-eyed.