Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“Shit. Okay, let me check her location. I’ll call you back.” I hang up and pull up the location app. The placement of her green dot sends a chill down my spine. She’s at her apartment. I check the time. It’s three in the afternoon. Would her mom be home at this time? Would the asshole? Fleur wouldn’t go to the apartment if she thought the asshole would be there. Still, I haul ass to my car and peel out of the driveway, narrowly missing hitting Smurf’s Benz. He honks and flips me off. I’ll apologize to him later.
At Fleur’s, I’m out the door without even cutting the engine. Someone can take my car for all I care. The only thing I’m focused on is getting into that apartment. I take the stairs two, three, four at a time. At Fleur’s door, I start pounding. “You there, Fleur? Open up.”
There’s no response. I pause and lay my ear against the door. Is that scuffling? A muffled cry? Fuck. I step back and smash my heel against the door knob. The entire frame rattles. I do it again and again. A neighbor two doors down pops their head out. “What the hell you doing, son?”
“My girlfriend’s inside.”
The old man shakes his head. “You betta leave or I’m gonna call the police.”
“Great,” I snap. The police should’ve been involved in this a long time ago. I kick the door one more time, and it gives way. There’s no one in the tiny kitchen or the dingy living room. I run toward the one closed door and throw it open. Richard has Fleur pinned to the bed. All I see is red. I rip him off.
Fleur scrambles off the bed and yells, “Get out!”
Richard lets out a nasty laugh. “Girl, you are in no position to tell me what to do.”
“This is Fleur’s place so yeah, she has every right to tell you to leave.” I point to the door. “Time to go.” If he doesn’t leave, I might kill him, which I really fucking want to do, but Fleur needs me more, and I can’t be with her if I’m in a fucking cell.
“I’ll go when Fleur gives me what I’ve got coming.” He hitches up his pants.
Fleur makes a gagging sound. My hands fist at my sides. This asshole really wants a beat-down, but Fleur is my first priority. I take a deep breath. I have to be smart about this. I bet Dunc will help me fuck this piece of shit up when he’s leaving work or his house. I suppose a brother can come in handy. Right now, I need to get her out of this fucking place. She’s never coming back. There’s no reason for her to be here. “Let’s get your stuff, babe.” I reach for her hand, wanting to get her out of here before I lay into this fuckface.
“Van, look out!”
I turn just in time to see Richard swing a bat at my head. The air over my head whistles as the bat narrowly misses my skull and crashes into a nearby lamp. “Get out of here.” I push Fleur toward the door before facing Richard.
His focus is on me now. His eyes are red, like a demon is possessing him. “You think you’re a big shot now?” he pants. Old fuck is going to wear himself out. “Let’s see how the girls look at you when you’re on crutches and can’t run.” This time the bat comes low, toward my legs. I jump back right into the wall. Good situational awareness, Van.
I have to duck again as Richard brings the bat up. I rush low and forward, toppling him backward. He’s at least two-fifty and has that old man toughness. He does not go down. He wraps his arms around my waist and tries to lift me up in some wrestling move he might’ve learned long ago, but if he’s got age on his side, I’ve got the wiliness of youth. I lean into him, and his momentum pulls him backward. He falls and strikes his back against the dresser.
A howl rises from his throat. “Gonna skin you, kid. Fuck your knees, your whole body is done for,” he swears. He’s still got the bat in his hand. I kick it out just as he swings his leg around and makes contact with the back of my knees. I stumble and catch myself on the edge of the mattress.
He scrambles forward, trying to reach for the bat. I push him back with my foot. This old man on drugs?
“Come on, Van. Let’s go,” Fleur says from the doorway. I look over my shoulder to see her with a bag in her hand.
“Go. I’ll be right behind you.” And then I remember how she doesn’t want to be left out, doesn’t want me to lie to her. “After I kick Dick’s ass.”