35 #2
Pure fury paints Eric’s face as he rushes me again, and I slam the bat down on his collarbone.
He cries out again in pain and swipes the large hunting knife at me.
I jump backward, swinging again and hitting him upside the head.
It’s not a hard enough swing though, so all it does is throw me off balance and piss him off more.
He manages to grab the barrel of the bat and slams the knob into my stomach.
I double over with an audible ‘oomph’, and he cackles before pulling it free of my hands.
He flips it in the air and catches it by the handle as I fight to suck in a breath.
His fingers wind through my hair and grip hard near my scalp, causing me to cry out as fire rips through my skull.
“Nice try, slut,” he growls into my ear, dragging me across the bathroom floor into the bedroom.
I fight him the whole way, kicking and screaming like a wildcat because I know that if I give up, it’s over.
He stops for a second, and I steel myself for the feel of his blade, but instead, I receive a jarring punch to my jaw.
Blinding pain ricochets throughout my entire face, and I gasp.
Before I have time to get my bearings, he’s yanking me toward the bed by my hair.
I’m actually surprised he hasn’t stabbed me already, but he’s just biding his time.
He throws me onto the unmade comforter like a ragdoll, and I scream, trying to scramble across the sheets to get away from him.
His sinister laugh echoes throughout the room as he grabs my foot and yanks me back down toward the end of the bed.
I hear the metal of his zipper and scream again with anger, kicking at him.
I tumble off the side of the bed onto the floor, intent on not giving up without one hell of a fight.
I feel fire slice deep into the back of my left thigh as he backhands me across the back of my skull before fisting my hair again and shoving my face into the rug.
The plush fibers muffle my scream, and I gasp for breath as he presses my face harder into it.
A surge of renewed anger bubbles through my body, and I manage to connect a kick with my right foot into his stomach.
He curses and bends forward in pain. That’s when I see it.
He let go of the bat. It’s right there within reach.
Even though my thigh is screaming at me, I quickly ball up on my side and grab the bat, getting a good grip.
I put every last bit of effort into rolling over and swinging as hard as I can.
I can only pray I connect with something vital.
Eric’s eyes widen a split second before realizing his mistake.
Defeat splashes across his features as the metal of the bat connects with the side of his skull.
A sickening crack pierces the air. I pull back to swing again but stop as his eyes glaze over, staring at me while not really seeing me.
Blood seeps from his nose, and I cry out, fear and anger mingling as he crumples at the foot of the bed.
I crawl toward him warily on just my knees, bat raised high, half-expecting him to be waiting for me when I round the corner of the bed.
He’s motionless, unseeing eyes still staring ahead.
Blood pools around his head, trickling from his ears and nose onto the rug and hardwood floor, and I gasp, grasping my mouth with a hand while holding back the bile threatening to come up.
“Mark! Fuck! Hold on buddy. Hold on! Ava! Ava!” I hear a familiar voice shout.
Colin.
A pained cry of relief wrenches from me as I hear his feet thundering down the hallway. He crashes into my room through the busted door, chest heaving from anxiety, but lets out an audible sigh when he sees that I’m okay.
“Is he knocked out?” Colin asks hesitantly, and I shake my head, tears streaming down my face.
“Help Mark...” I sob out. I don’t need to tell him twice.
He turns, disappearing from view. I hold onto the side of my bed to help me get my feet onto the floor.
My thigh is pulsing with pain, but I’ve got to get to Mark.
The shock is kicking in because everything just feels like jello when I try to move.
Every second feels like an eternity. I’m shaking so hard, I don’t think I can stand without passing out.
I sink back down onto my hands and knees to crawl out of my room.
When I round the corner, I begin sobbing as I see that Mark struggled to crawl toward our room to try to help me.
There is so much blood, it’s smeared across the hardwood from him dragging himself to reach me.
Colin is on the phone with what I assume is help, putting pressure on Mark’s wound.
His eyes roll up to mine, misting over as he literally holds the life from seeping out of Mark any further.
I reach him, pull his head into my lap, and bend to press my lips to his temple.
Relief floods me when I feel his faint pulse throbbing lightly against my lips.
I collapse against him, trying to get as close as possible without doing any more damage.
My whole heart prays and wills him to just stay. Don’t leave.