your dumbass refused to talk.
I shook my head. That thinking wasn’t going to save me or Murphy now.
Think. Think. Think.
Tim stared down at me, the blatant, dictionary-definition of a psychopath, and I was hit with an idea.
“Maybe I am glad to see you, Tim. You ever stop to consider that? You’re the only family I have left.” I tried to smooth my voice out like satin. “I know I was a bad girl and ran away, but you scared me. Maybe I wouldn’t mind playin’ with you if you played nice.”
Tim was instantly hesitant. He had to have known – I knew he was smart enough – to discern that I was full of shit. I was sweet talking him.
Obviously.
But that damn thing hanging between his legs was muddling up his thinking. And that was exactly what I was counting on.
Granted, even if Tim stopped trying to kill me and instead had sex with me, he was going to kill me eventually anyway. But it bought me time. And right now, twenty minutes could be the deciding factor in how this evening turned out.
“You shouldn’t have said that, Val. I know ya don’t mean it, and I’m gon’ make you pay for lyin’ to me.” Tim shook his head, seeming to come out of the sexual haze that had fogged him up for a few seconds.
“You don’t really know that much about me at all, Tim. That’s the problem. I don’t think you know how much I like to play. Or how good I am at it...” I coyly spread my legs, staring up at him with the best version of puppy dog eyes that I could pull off.
Tim grunted. Whether I meant it or not, he definitely wanted it. “Tell Murphy to go to his room,” he growled, licking his lips.
“Murphy, go take a nap on Mommy’s bed, honey, okay? I’ll come check on you in a bit.” Murphy was instantly running to the bedroom. I looked back at Tim and smiled. “See? I can play nice. Can you?”
Tim lowered to his knees, crawling over me until we were face to face. “I don’t play nice, little girl. I only know one way to play, and it’s gonna make you wish you’d never been born.” He put his gun down and pushed it away from us a little, then pulled my shirt up and over my head greedily.
I had him. I so had him.
The second I was sure that Tim’s hands were one hundred percent busy undoing his belt buckle, I brought my knee up as violently as possible, thwacking him right in the balls with every ounce of strength I had.
Immediately he was flailing, falling to his side and holding his groin with both hands. “You bitch!” He shrieked, howling in pain.
I reached for his gun carefully. Randall hadn’t kept one in the trailer. Randall hadn’t needed one. His fists were plenty adequate.
Standing, my knees shaking and wobbling pathetically, I backed away from the squalling man on the floor.
“Tim. Stay right where you are. I will shoot you if you move. Don’t test me.”
“I. Hate. You.” His gasps came out in between clenched teeth groans.
“Feeling’s mutual, Tim.” I steadied my aim, not trusting for a second that he wouldn’t try to get up.
When the door flew open, triumph flooded my body. Penn.
You’re going to make it through this. You can explain later.
I turned, completely ecstatic, but met Kate’s gaze instead. Still good.
“Oh my God!” I hugged her, keeping the gun pointed at Tim. “We need to call the cops. He found me. I told you he would find me and he found me!” I knew I sounded hysterical, but the adrenaline and the fear and the relief were mixing together to make quite the emotional cocktail.
Kate stepped back from me. “You’re not wearing a shirt!” She immediately pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around my middle. I gladly handed her the gun, which had scared me to hold almost exactly as much as it had comforted me.
“I’ll get Murphy. One of us needs to call the cops and get him out of here.” I couldn’t think of anything else except Murphy and 911.
“Tim, why is Anne not wearing a shirt?” Kate suddenly asked a very distraught Timothy Fisher.
“Kate, that doesn’t matter. Nothing happened. C’mon we need –”
Kate turned the gun toward me. “Stop talking. I can’t think clearly when you keep running your mouth.” Her eyes were cold. As if she didn’t know me at all... or