Cherry Creek - Dani Matthews Page 0,2

I ignore it as I turn and race for the apartment door. I’m brought up short when a fist tangles in my long ponytail, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the carpeted floor. I try to scream, to alert the neighbor’s that I need help, but only a croak escapes my raw throat.

Brad is coming at me again, and I quickly kick out at him. Thank God I’m wearing shoes, because I catch him in the face, and it stuns him for a second. I use that second to scramble to my feet and race for my bedroom. I can lock him out of my room, but I’ve realized I can’t lock him out of the main hallway. He could still kill me before anyone manages to intervene. I just barely make it to my room and slam the door shut in time. Brad snarls as he pounds on the door.

What next? My throat is too raw to scream, and my phone is in my purse. Unfortunately, my purse is in the living room.

The bat.

I dive for the carpet beneath my bed as my door shudders. This place has thin walls and cheap doors, so Brad will be coming in whether I want him to or not. My last chance is the baseball bat I keep on hand in case of an emergency. Mom and I have dealt with some really shady characters in the past when it comes to living in cheap apartment units. It’s come in handy a couple of times before.

My fingertips graze the cool steel handle of the bat, and I grab it. I don’t want to hurt Brad, but if it comes down to me or him, I’d prefer to be the one left standing.

The wood in the door begins to crack loudly.

I rise to my feet, chest heaving as I stare at the door. I’m holding the bat so tightly that I’m sure my knuckles are white. I cautiously inch closer, bat ready to swing. The door shudders, and the lock snaps. Brad bursts through, but I’m prepared. I swing the bat as hard as I can at his head, and when it makes contact with his skull, the impact of it vibrates up into my arms. Brad looks at me blankly for a second before his eyes roll back. He drops to the floor and doesn’t move. I clutch the bat tightly and wait to see if he’s out cold.

That’s when I see the blood.

With shaking hands, I lower the bat and drop it from my clammy grip. I feel sick to my stomach as I force myself to cautiously kneel beside him. He’s bleeding from the side of his head, and I tentatively touch his neck, searching for a pulse. I’m relieved to find one. It’s faint, but it’s there.

I draw back and stare down at him with shock.

This is Brad on my carpet, and I’d just cracked his skull open with a bat. How had this happened? How could things escalate so badly in one month?

None of this makes any sense to me.

Chapter One

It’s been four days since Brad tried to kill me. Four days of hiding out in the apartment, unable to move on with life. Of course, with Brad in a coma and with the police investigating the case, it’s been question after question. It’s hard to put something horrible out of your mind when you’re regularly forced to relive it.

I haven’t gone back to my job yet either, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be fired. Being fired doesn’t seem nearly as important as it had a few days ago. There is absolutely no way that I can put aside the horror of what I’d just gone through, to go work at the diner. I’m sure I’d mix up orders all day, because I can’t seem to concentrate on anything other than the memory of splitting open Brad’s skull. Besides, Brad’s attack on me made the local newspaper and was on the news the first few nights after it happened. My name and face has been splashed across the news, and we’ve even had reporters show up on our doorstep. I’m in hiding until further notice.

“Do you want me to pick up anything?” my mom asks as she enters the small living room. She’s zipping up her well-worn purse and looking at me questioningly. Tonight’s her night off from where she works, so she’s leaving to get groceries while I stay camped out on the couch,