Chapter Thirty-Six
ALICE
Iwoke to the sensation of something vital slipping through my fingers. Of something I desperately needed being dragged away as my hand closed on air.
In those first foggy seconds as sleep receded, I thought it was a dream.
A cry broke through the fog and I knew. The heat of Petra’s small body beside me was gone, the sheets moving around me. Another plaintive cry and a vicious swear.
That was all it took.
I was painfully awake, panic spiking through my limbs, firing up my brain.
Petra.
My skirt tangling around my legs, I lunged to the end of the bed, my hand reaching to catch Petra's arm. Lacey stood there, a manic look in her eyes, her hands closed around Petra’s leg, pulling with all her strength.
Lacey?
What was Lacey doing here? How had she even gotten in? Everything was on lockdown. Cooper’s front door required a handprint, and there were cameras everywhere.
I lunged again, wrapping my arms around Petra's chest and kicking out at Lacey to make her let go. Her fingers around Petra's ankle were a steel manacle.
Hacking at her arm with the side of my hand, I tried to break her grip.
She was impervious, just drunk enough that she felt no pain but not so drunk that she was going to give up and go away. Dangerous.
Holding Petra to me with one arm, I closed my fingers around Lacey's wrist and twisted hard. Nothing, her fingers were still locked around Petra’s small leg in a bruising grip.
Shifting my attack, I grabbed Lacey’s thumb and yanked hard. With a shriek of pain, her hand fell off Petra and I whirled, shoving the little girl behind me.
Lacey dove around me. I shot out one arm to block her, sending her flying back. This wasn't the first time I'd been grateful for my training, but it was the first that I wished I’d had more.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to stall her. “What do you want?”
Lacey’s eyes fixed on me, the lines of red snaking through whites less bloodshot than usual. She was feral. Focused. She wanted my girl and she’d go through me to get her.
I shoved Petra further behind me, not taking my eyes off Lacey. I didn't want Petra within arm's reach as Lacey steadily advanced. We were trapped in Petra’s bedroom, Lacey blocking our only exit.
I couldn’t let her close enough to grab Petra again. She might be drunk, but she was oddly strong. Determined.
We needed help.
I'd fallen asleep in Petra's room not long after lunch. For a kid who’d tossed and turned all night, she slept like an angel when she napped. I only meant to stay until she was out, but she'd been so warm tucked into my side and I was so tired. I’d drifted off right beside her.
I don't know how long we slept. It didn't matter. No one would come to our rescue unless they knew we needed help. There was no phone here. No alarm panel.
We had to get out of Petra’s room.
I backed slowly away from Lacey, moving deeper into the room to put space between us before changing my path to an arc, trying to get Lacey to clear the doorway.
With each step to the side, Lacey mirrored me, gradually taking a position on the far side of the door.
She was closer to us, almost within grabbing distance, but she no longer blocked our way out.
Lacey was strong and determined, but she was still a little drunk and not very smart. Not realizing she’d open up an avenue for our escape, Lacey advanced, hand outstretched.
“Just give me the girl,” Lacey cajoled, her voice a terrifying singsong. “You said she’s not yours. Why do you even care? I just need to get rid of her. Once I hand her over to Andrei, he'll make her disappear. Then Maxwell will forget her slut of a mother and everything can go back to normal.”
“Do you really think he’ll forgive you for that?” I took a slow step sideways, closer to the door, hoping Lacey would again mirror my movement. She did, coming closer, but setting herself deeper into the room. Almost…
“You don't want her anyway,” Lacey crooned. “You and Cooper want to be alone, don't you? Why would you want a child? Sticky and messy. So demanding. Just give her to me. I'll make her go away. Then you and Cooper can be happy. Maxwell will come home. Everything will be the way it’s supposed to be.”
Lacey's utter lack of conscience was chilling. She couldn't figure out how to get rid of me, so she found a way to convince herself that Petra was the source of all of her problems.
Get rid of Petra and Maxwell would forget about the girl he claimed he’d loved? Forget about their child?
Considering Maxwell, I could kind of see Lacey's point. He probably would forget about Petra once she was out of sight. But to give her to Andrei, knowing what he did with women and children? Lacey was a monster.
No matter what, she wasn’t going to touch Petra.
Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I made a quick quarter turn and snatched up Petra, bundling her into my arms as I barreled through the open door and into the hall.
Lacey lurched after me, hands clawing, nails digging into my arm.
With a burst of speed, I tore through her grip and down the hall.
Cursing my short legs, I sprinted for the front door. Too far. It was too far. Lacey was gaining on me way too fast for an out-of-shape drunk woman twice my age.
I wasn’t going to make it. Her fingers closed on the back of my dress, yanking so hard I rocked back on my heels, almost going down. With a lunge, I broke free and veered right at the end of the hall.
On the wall opposite the windows was a panic button discreetly placed beside the light switches. I slammed my hand on it the second I was close enough, the faint click of it activating filling me with relief.
I’d reached the panic button but sacrificed my escape route.
I bumped into the side of the couch as Lacey emerged from the hall. A triumphant smile spreading across her face, she came to a stop directly between us and the front door.
Lacey studied Petra and me as if we were bugs under a microscope, assessing her options. Sidling ever closer, she stopped again at the side of the couch, right next to the light switches. Lacey didn't seem to notice the panic button pushed flush with the wall.
No, her attention was on the table beneath the switches and the tall, black, iron lamp in the center.
Shit.
Two feet tall, with the circumference of a baseball bat, the lamp made for a hell of a weapon. Why hadn’t I thought to grab it?
Lacey ripped the cord from the wall with one wide swing of her arm, brandishing the lamp above her head, a hungry gleam in her eyes.
She was fucking insane. I juggled Petra in my arms, raising her until my mouth was level with her ear. “Hide behind the couch. Do you understand? Nod if you understand. Hide behind the couch.”
For an endless second, Petra remained still, no response to my whispered order.
Please, please sweetie. Please understand.
I could try to fight off Lacey, but not while holding Petra in my arms. The panic button would bring help, but every second passing was an eternity. Lacey could do a hell of a lot of damage with that lamp in the few minutes it would take to mobilize a rescue.
After an endless moment, Petra gave a slow nod, whispering back, “Hide.”
I kissed her temple. “That's right, baby. Hide. Hide for me, okay?”
I set her on her feet. She took off like a shot, scrambling around the glass coffee table and behind the short side of the L-shaped couch.
Pushed up against the wall of windows, the slanted back created a narrow tunnel.
Far too small for an adult, it was the perfect hiding place for a wiggly three-year-old.
Even if Lacey took me down, she’d have a bitch of a time getting to Petra before help arrived. Lacey was strong, but the couch weighed a ton. The worst of my fear retreated now that Petra wasn't seconds away from being bashed in the head with two feet of iron.
Petra was safe, but me? I was in some trouble.
Lacey howled with rage as her quarry disappeared behind the bulk of the black leather couch.
“Why do you always get in my way?” she demanded with a petulant whine.
Advancing on me, she adjusted her grip so she held the narrow base of the lamp with two hands, cocking it back over her shoulder in a decent imitation of a batter’s stance.
Fucking hell.
I dodged, staying between Lacey and the end of the couch where Petra had disappeared. The lamp grazed my arm as Lacey swung.
Too close.
Lacey swung the lamp again. I slid to the right, slamming my shin into the edge of the heavy glass coffee table. Fuck, that hurt. The lamp struck the side of my arm, and the pain in my leg was knocked right out of my head.
How the hell was a sixty-something-year-old alcoholic strong enough to swing that fucking lamp?
My left arm went numb from the blow.
I watched with horror as Lacey stepped forward and raised the lamp over her head, her thin arms shaking from the strain.
Lacey advanced, the lamp beginning its slow arc down to split open my skull. My right arm flew up over my head. My left hung useless by my side.
Fuck. Why did I have to be so goddamn short? My arm was no match for the iron length of the lamp.
Defense wasn’t going to work.
Offense was all I had.
I dove straight at Lacey, ducking under the arc of the lamp, driving the top of my head into the center of her chest and taking her off her feet. We tumbled to the ground, rolling in a tangle of limbs, Lacey's hand still tightly gripping the lamp.
I didn't have the weight to pin her down. She rolled, pushing me off. Instead of trying to pin her, I gripped the lamp with both hands, trying to wrench it from her fingers. I only ended up dragging her to her feet as I gained mine.
My left arm screaming with pain now that the numbness had faded, we wrestled for control of the lamp, Lacey gaining ground with each step, driven by alcohol-fueled rage. I dug in my heels as my calves hit smooth, cool leather.
This was it. I was out of time. We were only inches away from where Petra hid. I had to neutralize Lacey now.
How long since I’d hit the panic button? It felt like an hour. It could have been less than a minute.
Not enough time.
Definitely not enough while Lacey still had that fucking lamp.
Closing both hands over the length of metal, I twisted hard, managing to loosen her hold. With another sharp tug, I got it free.
It was long and heavy, throwing me off balance as Lacey let go. Stumbling back, I tried to get a better hold on its length, to put space between us.
The couch behind me, there was no room to move. Lacey came at me in a dive, leading with her long, sharp fingernails.
Falling back into the couch, I swung out of desperate instinct. The lamp cracked her hard in the ribs, sending her flying to her left, her eyes wide with surprise, mouth open in a shocked O.