Her Dad's Best Friend

The Fight for Survival

I was sitting in the nursery, the soothing rhythm of breastfeeding Aiden calming my nerves. The quiet moments with him were my sanctuary, a fragile bubble of peace in a world filled with anxiety and danger. His small fingers wrapped around mine, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment, unaware of the storm brewing outside.

Then, without warning, a loud crash came from the front door, the sound of it being kicked open with a force that shook the entire house. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Footsteps. Heavy and rushed. My blood ran cold, every instinct screaming at me to protect Aiden.

They were inside.

I stood, clutching Aiden to my chest, fear washing over me in waves. My mind raced. I knew this wasn't random. It had to be him—Chris. My worst nightmare was happening all over again.

"Stay calm, stay calm," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling as I hurried toward the bathroom. My hands shook as I dialed Jordan, then my dad, and finally KD.

"Come home, now! Someone's in the house!" I whispered frantically into the phone before hanging up. They were on their way, but I wasn't sure how long I had. I could feel my panic rising, but I had to keep it together for Aiden.

I rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I placed Aiden in the cabinet under the sink, making sure he was safe, his tiny eyes wide with confusion. Tears blurred my vision as I kissed his forehead. "Stay quiet, baby," I whispered.

I grabbed the gun from its hiding place. Jordan didn't know I had it, and neither did my dad. But right now, I didn't care. They'd understand why I had to do this.

Suddenly, I heard his voice—Chris.

"Find her!" His voice was cold, commanding. My blood boiled. The fear I had felt only moments ago began to transform into something else. Rage.

I tightened my grip on the gun and took a deep breath. I wasn't going to hide. Not anymore. I wasn't that scared girl who had let Chris hurt her. I was a mother now, and I would protect my son at any cost.

I flung open the bathroom door, the rage inside me burning hotter than ever. I moved quietly through the house, my gun raised. I spotted three of them, masked and armed, and without hesitation, I pulled the trigger. The sound of gunfire echoed through the house as I shot each one, their bodies dropping before they even had a chance to react. My heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

And then, I saw him—Chris, standing there with his bodyguard, both dressed in black. Aiden's cries from the bathroom echoed through the house, but I couldn't focus on anything except the man who had tormented me for so long.

Chris smirked when he saw me, like he thought I was still that scared girl from before. But he was wrong. So very wrong.

Rage consumed me. Without thinking, I threw the gun aside and launched myself at Chris. The two of us crashed to the floor, and I began hitting him—fists flying, fueled by every ounce of pain, fear, and anger I had bottled up over the years.

"How *dare* you come into my home!" I screamed, my voice raw with fury. Punch after punch landed on his face, blood splattering everywhere, but I didn't care. I wanted to destroy him.

I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn't stop. Not until I heard Jordan's voice, then my dad's, and KD's, all yelling as they ran into the room.

"Hailey! Hailey, stop!" Jordan's voice finally broke through the haze of rage, and I froze, my fists still clenched. My knuckles were bloody, my hands shaking, and Chris was barely conscious beneath me, his face a bloody mess.

I staggered back, breathing hard, my body trembling from the intensity of it all. I glanced up to see Jordan, KD, and my dad standing there, looking at me with a mix of shock and disbelief. They had dealt with Chris's bodyguard, who lay crumpled on the floor, unconscious.

Jordan rushed over to me, pulling me into his arms, his touch gentle despite the chaos around us. "It's over," he whispered, brushing the hair from my face. "You're okay."

But I wasn't sure if I believed him. I looked down at my hands, covered in Chris's blood, and I realized something—this wasn't over. Not for me.

I had survived, yes. But I had also become someone I didn't recognize. Someone capable of violence, of rage.

I glanced back at Chris, who lay on the floor, barely breathing. And for the first time, I didn't feel fear when I looked at him.

I felt nothing at all.