THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,252

phone for a few hours and I have no idea where he’s at. I’m not sure what to do with the information. Is Alex dangerous? Yes. Would he harm me? I did take him for all of his worth in the divorce case. He lost everything…every single red cent. The thought crosses my mind to call the cops just to report him as a possible threat, but I’m questioning everything and I want to make perfectly sure the crazy story I’ve concocted is, in fact, true.

I text Phillipe one more time to see if he’s been able to find Steven. He hasn’t. My mind is whirring with all the possible scenarios and I can’t take it anymore. I rub my temples and pray the correct answer forms on it’s own. Someone knocks on my door…three, loud pounds that shake the doorframe. I narrow my eyes, automatically on guard because they didn’t use the doorbell. Any of my trusted friends would just walk in.

Alex has a key, I remember. I gave it to him in an attempt to make my life easier. I wouldn’t have to be home when he came over. He could just come right in. Butterflies invade my stomach and the living room spins to the right a touch. Shock. Terror.

Bouncing a knee up and down, I dial nine-one-one, the number that I never thought I’d ever have cause to dial. As I talk to the operator and explain the situation and give her my address, I head to my bedroom and into the expanse of my closet. With shaking hands I pick up the gun. In the quiet house I hear a key slide into my lock and someone enters. I mumble the new details to the operator and then hang up the phone. I try Steven one more time, leaving a pleading voicemail when he doesn’t answer.

“Where are you, you fucking whore!” Alex’s voice echoes from downstairs. I throw a hand over my mouth to stifle a small scream. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I pass the portrait of me on my wedding day and edge closer to the balcony that overlooks the foyer. “I know you’re here!” he yells, his voice far deeper than I’ve ever heard it. He’s a completely different person.

My stomach churns with fear and dread. My life will end tonight because I fucked over a lunatic. A tear trickles down my face, mostly from anger.

I lean over the edge and see Alex holding a small black handgun by his side. I creep down the stairs, taking one at a time, hoping to just get close enough to put a hole where I want one. I take a deep breath and try to remember everything I know about my gun and about making a clean, effective shot. Steven’s words trickle in. Speed. Surprise. Violence of action.

“Oh my God,” I mouth when I realize it’s either him or me. The police won’t be here for at least another ten minutes. I could lock myself in a bedroom and wait. That would be the most rational decision. I take a step back up the stairwell, landing softly.

Rational thought processes take a nosedive when I see headlights out my front window and then a truck squealing into park—definitely not the police. A second later, a bulky figure hops out. Steven. My heart skips at least five beats before it starts working again. He has no clue what he’s walking in on. I can’t breathe. All plans for my own safety die. Protect him. I must protect him.

“I’m here,” I warble, words broken.

Alex grins a wicked smile and takes aim at me. I hide the gun behind my back. He notices Steven, his gun turning to point in the only direction I don’t want it.

“No!” I yell, shaking my head. “Leave him out of this. You’re upset with me!”

His crazed eyes turn to gaze at me. “Upset with you? You took everything from me. I can’t get a job. I don’t have a cent to my name. Penny, that stupid cunt, got it all. It’s your fault. I should have killed her when I had a chance. Maybe that’s where I’ll go next, after I watch blood spill from your lying mouth. You took everything and you are so fucking stupid that you didn’t figure it out, did you? ” Alex asks, still aiming his gun at Steven, a scowl of frustration smeared across his face.

“Morganna!” Steven yells.

I hold my breath at the sound of his voice.