CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Even as she saw Hannah drop to the floor, knocked unconscious by the baton blow to her temple, Kat was pulling her handgun out of her hip holster.
She was just raising it to aim when the baton came down hard, smashing into her right wrist and knocking the weapon to the hardwood floor before it slid under the couch. Ash Pierce, wearing a mail delivery uniform and a huge grin on her face, was cocking the baton back again to take a second swing.
Kat did her best to ignore the screaming pain in her right hand, which she was pretty sure was broken. Before Pierce could follow through on her strike, Kat flung herself at the hitwoman. The baton made contact with her left shoulder but the power was diffused slightly by their close proximity.
She used her full weight as she slammed into the much smaller woman, propelling them both back into the kitchen.
They collided into the breakfast table and toppled over it onto the floor.
Pierce had landed on her back but popped right up.
Kat, on the other side of the table, landed on her stomach and took a little longer to get to her feet since she only had one working hand.
“Nice to see you again, Katherine,” Pierce said as if they’d causally bumped into each other at the grocery store.
Kat looked over at Ryan, strapped to the chair beside her. Though he appeared to be alive, he looked terrible. His breathing was raspy and there were deep cuts all over his face and torso. Blood had pooled on the kitchen floor around him—a lot of it. She looked up at Pierce.
“Wish I could say the same,” she growled.
“Oh, are you feeling bad for the big strong man?” Pierce asked, using a mock baby voice.
“Don’t worry. He kept passing out because of the pain.
I had to use smelling salts to wake him.
Over and over again. It got tiresome. But he’s getting off easy compared to you.
And what I’m going to do to you will be a walk in the park compared to your little friend on the ground there. I’m saving the best stuff for Hannah.”
“You won’t get that far,” Kat said, though she had no clue how she was going to keep that promise. Pierce had a police baton while she was unarmed and injured.
“I think I will.”
“It’s hardly a fair fight,” Kat spat, hoping that appealing to Pierce’s arrogance might change the dynamic.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Katherine,” Pierce said, “bating me like that. But I don’t mind. It’s more fun if you have false hope.”
Without warning, she tossed the baton. Kat reached out and snagged the thing before it hit the ground. She gripped it tight, glad to have it, though her left arm was nowhere near as strong as her right. But considering that her right wrist was useless right now, this would have to do.
She looked up and saw that while she was reaching for the baton, Pierce had grabbed a weapon of her own, snagging a butcher knife that had been sitting on the counter behind her. There was blood dripping off it. Clearly, she’d been using it on Ryan.
“You know this is gonna hurt real bad, right?” Pierce said with uncontrolled glee.
Kat didn’t respond.
“I’ve been waiting so long, Katherine,” the killer continued. “And you’ve made my life so difficult. Now, for the little time you have left, I’m going to return the favor.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before she leapt on the table, slicing through the air. Kat jumped back. She wanted to take a swing of her own but before she could, Pierce had slithered across the table. There was nothing separating them now.
Pierce lunged at her, swiping down with the knife, trying to slice the arm with the baton.
Kat yanked the arm back, barely avoiding the contact.
But rather than try to either swing it upward or back away, she decided now might be the only time she’d have Pierce off balance like this. She had to take advantage of it.
She flung her right arm upward, the open palm making clean contact with the underside of Pierce’s chin. The pain in her wrist was excruciating. But it was worth it. Pierce staggered back, briefly stunned.
Kat used the moment to wind up and swing the baton down, connecting with Pierce’s right forearm.
She heard the clatter as the butcher knife fell from her hand and landed on the floor.
She saw that Pierce’s blinking eyes had already cleared, so she hurried, swinging again with the baton, this time aiming for the woman’s skull.
But Pierce blocked the blow easily before grabbing at the baton with both hands and ripping it from Kat’s. She stumbled slightly. Kat, out of weapons and options, went with what she had available: brute force.
She threw herself at the smaller woman, slamming into her. They both fell to the kitchen floor and she landed on top, pinning Pierce below her. With her working left hand, she pummeled the killer, sometimes getting in clean punches, while others were deflected by Pierce’s forearm.
She must have gotten in four solid blows to the face before she saw the baton come flying at her.
She tried to throw up her hands in time but was too late.
Her left cheekbone exploded. Her vision was filled with stars.
As it cleared she saw the baton coming at her again.
This time it slammed into the bridge of her nose.
The force knocked her backward and she landed on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.
Before she knew it, Pierce was on top of her, reigning down blow after blow with the baton. More of them connected than didn’t. Kat threw up her arms to block them, hoping to protect her head. But that just made Pierce switch to her torso, smashing her ribs, which Kat both heard and felt crack.
Between the searing pain in her chest and her smashed, broken nose, she was having trouble breathing. But unless she did something, breathing wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.
She tried to focus. The next time Pierce swung at her, she managed to fling her left fist upward, hitting the woman in the trachea. For a second Pierce stopped, exhaling with a raspy cough. But a moment later, she was over it.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she snarled hoarsely, sounding truly angry for the first time. “I was just going to kill you. But I’ve changed my mind. Now I’m just going to bludgeon you so bad that you’ll be brain damaged for the rest of your short pathetic life. How does that sound, Katherine?”
Kat laughed, despite the agony it caused.
“Pathetic?” she managed to wheeze. “Who’s the pathetic one? My life is full of love. You’re a twisted shell of hate, who only gets joy from killing. Your life is as empty as your soul. So do your worst. But it won’t fill you up. You’re a loser. Now and forever.”
She stopped there, unable to get any more words out. She was completely spent. In the distance, she thought she heard sirens, but couldn’t be sure.
“They’re not coming here,” Pierce said through gritted teeth, confirming that it wasn’t a dream. “They’re headed across the way to my good friend Linda’s place.”
Kat mustered the last bit of strength she had, aware that these were likely her final moments as Kat Gentry, before Pierce crushed her brain into mush.
“You can’t run forever,” she croaked. “Not from them. Not from yourself. Eventually, they’ll catch up to you and you’ll pay for what you’ve done.”
“Not soon enough to help you, Katherine,” Pierce said calmly. “By the time they find you, it will be too late.”
Kat was fading in and out but before she lost consciousness, she could have sworn she heard a familiar female voice.
“No it won’t.”