Page 103 of Tough Love
The operator’s voice whispers from my hand as I pocket my keys and lock the apartment door behind me to keep Briar safe. My feet slap the concrete as I dash down the stairs to face the bully head-on.
By the time I hit ground level, the men are shunting each other in the shoulder, winding up to fight again.
“Leave, Tristan,” I shout. He spins, watching me with his head cocked to the side. “You are never going to see Briar if this is how you act. If you want a chance at seeing your boy, you better fuck off and clean your act up.”
I’m lying—there’s no way in hell he’s ever getting near Briar, but the phone in my hand is still connected to an emergency services officer, one whose calls are recorded. This could be the admission we’ve needed, the hard undeniable evidence that’ll see him rot for the rest of his life.
“You don’t tell me how to act, bitch,” Tristan bellows, a thick finger pointed my way.
My blood runs cold; something’s off. He’s different, angrier …high.
“She has a point,” Evan says in his level take-no-shit policeman voice. “If you truly cared about Briar, you’d do this therightway.”
“Bring him out, now.” Tristan starts walking toward me, fast, coming close to breaking into a run.
I scramble up the stairs backward, hustling to get away as Evan sprints across the parking lot behind him. My phone drops, stranded on the bottom step.
“Back up, Tristan,” I say shakily, feeling my way up the risers.
He reaches the bottom of the stairs and disconnects my call, leering at me as it dawns on me I’m going to end up penned against a locked door if I continue this way. He’s caught off guard as I stand and charge back toward him, shunting him backward and into Evan’s waiting hold.
Tristan thrashes free, spinning around to face the two of us like a wounded dog. He hesitates, eyeing the both of us up, and then dashes for the Jeep. Evan frowns as Tristan reaches the front of the vehicle, bends down, and retrieves a knife from his boot. The arsehole laughs, and then jams the long blade through the grill and into the radiator, water and steam hissing out the hole he makes.
“Fucker!” Evan paces on the spot, but he doesn’t give Tristan what he wants: he doesn’t engage.
The bastard moves on to the side panels next, scratching deep lines into the paintwork. One tyre wall is punctured in a frenzy, and then two. Tristan works the Jeep over until Evan’s anger wins and he strides across to stop him.
“Just wait,” I call, well aware this is what Tristan wanted: to draw him out.
“Go back inside,” Evan instructs, but I refuse, knowing I couldn’t live with myself if this goes south and I wasn’t there to intervene.
Tristan leads Evan around the far side of the Jeep, and then in a complete about-face, he sprints around the back end and heads right for me.
Shit.He didn’t want Evan; he wanted to get Evan away fromme.
I turn and take the stairs two at a time, hoping I can get to the door with enough of a head start to make it through. But Tristan’s legs are longer, and he gains ground on me as I reach the top of the stairwell. I dive to the landing, curling up into a ball to try and protect myself from the worst of his assault. He slashes the knife down toward my leg, but it doesn’t cut deep, glancing off my flesh and leaving only a light cut.
I cry out in equal parts shock and pain, daring to peek out at what comes next, yet I find why it is Tristan didn’t strike me as hard as I expected.
Evan has his arms wrapped underneath Tristan’s, pulling his shoulders back so that he can’t get enough range of movement to slash again.
I scramble to my feet, yanking the keys out and fumbling with them as the men grunt and wrestle against each other. Tristan pushes backward as I slot the key in the lock, and Evan loses his footing.
Sirens wail as the police approach the gate.
The men tumble backward.
My life slows to a crawl before my eyes.
I turn back to the stairs as Tristan rolls over top of Evan, the knife slipping from his grasp and clattering to the next landing down. Both men untangle themselves, getting back to their feet as the sirens become a deafening scream at the bottom of the stairs.
Tristan spins, placed between Evan and myself, and decides to make another dash for me. I lunge for the key still hanging from the door and twist it hard, yet he manages to get his arm around my waist, pulling the handle from my grasp as he wrenches me backward.
The air leaves my lungs, despair filling them in its wake. I’ve failed—drawn the monster out of hiding and failed to keep Briar safe. Why did I think it would come to any less than this? Why did I think time could change things?
I’m still just a girl; weak and helpless against a force like Tristan. Bravado stands for nothing when you literally can’t break free of your tormentor’s hold.
Evan curls his arm around Tristan’s neck as I wrestle in his hold, pushing against Tristan’s chest with my free hand. Evan’s added assault gives me the distraction and time I need to be able to break away. I twist the key, push the door open, and look back in time to see Evan throw his weight backward, pulling Tristan down the stairs with him. The men roll and crash to the landing as an officer yells out, making his way up from the bottom.