REprisal - Kathy Coopmans Page 0,38
her and beat the hell out of her, or better yet, blow her fucking head off. I’m torn. What if somehow Journey is caught in the middle of it and gets hurt? Is this what a good mother does?
I change and feed my daughter, and all the while my mother sits in the chair with the gun tucked in her lap and her phone in her hand, texting someone. Who the hell could she be texting? Is there someone else involved in this shit storm? It wouldn’t surprise me if there were; she could have another man somewhere.
I jump when there is a knock on the door. Swallowing down the rough lump in my throat, I shift my head to try and get a glimpse of whoever it is as she glides over to answer it. I stand to get a better look, but freeze in terror as a man enters the room with the biggest knife in his hand I have ever seen.
“Damn, Tina. Her pictures don’t do her a bit of justice. She’s a fucking knockout,” he says in a low, raspy voice. “It’s a shame I have to mess up that pretty face of hers, though. I would love to play with her for a while.”
A baseball cap low over his eyes makes it difficult to actually see his face, but his words bring bile up my throat. He licks his lips, chewing roughly on the bottom one.
“You can do whatever the hell you want with her once I leave. Now get that baby from her. I have to go.”
“No!” I scream, pressing Journey to me. “Fuck you both! You will have to kill me first before you get her!”
“Very well, then. Kill her, Max. Just let me step out of the room first. The sight of blood makes me ill.”
He takes two steps forward before Tina stops him with a pull on his arm.
“Wait,” she orders, stepping in front of me.
“This is the end for you, Clove. You have fucked up my life since the day you were born, and now I can finally say goodbye to you.”
She repulses me. This despicable human being standing in front of me doesn’t deserve a response from me, not a damned word. She can shoot me or this weasel motherfucker can stab me, but I won’t go down without a fight.
“Fuck you Tina!” I shout, and with my free hand, I punch her as hard as I can in her face.
She falls to the floor, the gun slipping from her hand. I kick it out of my way and stomp the living hell out of her fingers, which are spread wide on the nasty carpet. I begin kicking her in the face as she screams for Max to get me away from her.
“Stay down there, you cunt!” I shriek, kicking and screaming, calling her every goddamn name I can think of. “You rot in hell, you no good fucking bitch.”
I get in one last kick before I am lifted in the air, still clinging to my now-screaming baby.
“Stop, now.”
Max sits me on the bed. He cups me by the chin and I finally get a good look at his face.
Jesus! How could I not have recognized him the minute he walked in the door?
“Give her to me,” he says gently.
“I can’t,” I sob, shaking my head back and forth.
“Kill her!”
The two of us turn and look as the bitch stands up, blood dripping from her face, black mascara running from her eyes.
“Did you hear me? I said, kill her now!” she screams. “She’s nothing to me! She never has been!”
“How about if I kill you instead?”
My head snaps around at hearing a familiar voice.
“Zack!”
My heart leaps in my chest at the sight of my brother standing there in the open doorway, his gun steadily pointed right at our mother. I worry for a moment that my mind is playing tricks on me. No. My vision may be blurry with tears, but that is him. He’s here and he’s saved me. I want to run to him. Have him hold me, comfort me, and tell me this is all truly over. I take a step toward him to feel the comfort of his arms around me.
“Clove! Stay right where you are for a few more minutes. Let me get this piece of trash out of here, first.”
He’s here. Dear God, Zack is here! As if a dam had broken, salty tears stream down my face, blinding me as sobs overtake