My body was exhausted from the day, but my mind refused to rest. The swirl of emotions after everything with Sam, after he left again, kept me wide awake. Anger gnawed at me, sadness clawing at my chest. I was mad at him for leaving us, for leaving me—again. And the worst part? I couldn't shake the feeling that it was my fault.
Thump.
My heart froze and I shot upright, listening intently. The kids' steady breathing was the only sound in the dark room.
Then another sound, this one louder.
Footsteps. Inside the house.
My breath caught in my throat.
Someone's here.
My eyes darted to the clock - 02:37 a.m.
I slid out of bed as quietly as possible. My heart pounded in my throat as I moved to the closet, my fingers trembling as I opened the safe. The cold metal of the handgun my father had insisted I keep felt foreign in my hand, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins forced me into action. I had no choice. I had to protect them.
My body was exhausted, every muscle aching from the day, but my mind refused to rest. The swirl of emotions after everything with Sam, after he left again, kept me wide awake. Anger gnawed at me, sadness clawing at my chest. I was mad at him for leaving us, for leaving me—again. And the worst part? I couldn't shake the feeling that it was my fault.
Thump.
My heart froze in my chest. I shot upright, my ears straining against the silence. The kids' steady breathing was the only sound in the room, soft and peaceful. But then, there it was again—a creak, louder this time. Footsteps.
Inside the house.
My pulse quickened, the panic rising fast and sharp. Someone was here.
My eyes darted to the clock: 02:37 a.m. The dead of night.
I slid out of bed as quietly as possible, careful not to wake the kids. My heart pounded in my throat as I moved to the closet, my fingers trembling as I opened the safe. The cold metal of the handgun my father had insisted I keep felt foreign in my hand, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins forced me into action. I had no choice. I had to protect them.
Moving swiftly but silently, I crouched next to the bed and gently shook the children awake. Logan stirred first, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Mommy?" His voice was groggy, confused.
I forced a calm smile. "We're playing a game," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "A quiet game. I need you to be brave, okay? No matter what."
They all looked at me sleepily and confused but nodded.
I hurried them to the bathroom, gathering them all together. I gave Logan my phone and said sternly, "Call Grandad and tell them where you are and that someone is in the house." His eyes were wide with concern but nodded. "Stay here, don't make a sound," I whispered as I kissed each of their foreheads.
The terror in their innocent eyes broke my heart, but I couldn't let them see my fear.
I shut the door behind me, locking it, then dragged the dresser across the room in front of it. It scraped loudly across the floor, but I didn't have time to care. I needed to create a barrier between them and whoever was inside.
I took a stance in the corner of the room, making sure I had sight of the bedroom door and bathroom door. My gun raised at the bedroom door.
My breath hitched when the sound moved closer to the door.
The nob turned slowly, Fuck. Why didn't I think to lock it?
The door creaked open very slowly. Painfully even.
My voice was steady when I breathed, "Get out of my house now!"
Laughter echoed out of the half-open door and someone hissed 'Dead bitch'.
My blood ran cold at that comment.
The door opened wider as two figures, their forms barely visible, walked out the door.
A gun in one of their hands pointed directly toward me.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Everything happened in slow motion. I fired back, the recoil kicking hard against my hands. One of them crumpled to the floor, a sickening thud filling the space.
But before I could process it, the second intruder lunged at me. He slammed into me and I hit the ground, hard. The gun slipped from my grasp, skidding across the floor, out of reach.
My head hit the hardwood with a sickening thud, and stars danced in my vision.
I gasped for breath, struggling to push the weight off my chest. The intruder loomed over me, his face twisted into a sneer as he pinned me down, his knee digging painfully into my ribs.
"You dumb bitch," he spat, punching me across the face, the impact blinding me with pain.
I couldn't give up. My kids were in that bathroom. I had to fight.
His fists came down again, but this time, I clawed at his face, blindly grabbing for anything I could. My nails found his eyes, digging deep, and he screamed, a raw, guttural sound that filled the room. I pushed with everything I had, and he staggered back, clutching his face.
With all my strength, I pushed him off me and wriggled free.
I scrambled for the gun, my vision blurred, my head pounding. He charged again, but this time I was ready.
I fired.
Once.
Twice.
He staggered, before collapsing to the floor with a sickening thud.
I blinked at the sudden early quiet. My ears were ringing from the gunfire, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. My hands were shaking, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the bodies on the floor.
Adrenaline coursed through me. Small cries could be hurt from the bathroom
My nightshirt felt wet. I quickly looked down. Not wanting to take my eyes off the intruders. That's when I felt a sharp, searing pain in my side.
There was blood on me. Whose blood was on me? The gun was still clenched in my hand as I lowered my other hand to my side.
Pain shot at me as I grazed my side. Shit. I was shot.
My breaths came in ragged gasps. Keep fighting, I told myself. For them.
I dragged myself towards the bathroom door, my eyes never leaving the bodies as they lay at the door.
My vision became clouded. My bloodied hand pressed against my side, trying to stop the flow. My face throbbed.
Pain clawed at me, my strength fading with every breath. I stumbled against the dresser. Practically collapsing against it.
I forced myself to stay upright. "Are you guys alright," I croaked.
"Mommy!" Logan spoke first.
"Did you call Grandpa?" I say with heavy breathing. My eyelids grow heavy with each passing second.
"His coming he said," Logan said but he sounded very far away.
I heard the distant sound of sirens. Help was coming. My dad was coming.
The thought barely formed before everything went black.
YOU ARE READING
Love, take Two
RomanceAfter six long years apart, Emily and Samuel stood face to face once again. The past hung between them like a fragile veil, heavy with memories that were once vibrant but had since faded into a distant haze. Time had changed them physically, and emo...
