Page 84 of One Night Years Ago

Ford stood up, staggering from blood loss but still dangerous. He ignored Hunter and came straight towards her. In his hand he held a knife. She looked at her own empty hand. She’d dropped the knife when she kneeled down to take his pulse.

What a rookie mistake.

Ford’s face was a mask of fury as he took slow, careful steps towards her. “I hoped we would have more time together … but sticking this into your heart is going to be satisfying anyway.”

Natalie wanted to jump aside, but her body still wasn’t responding the way it should. She saw the knife arch in the air towards her. Then it was stopped in the air as Hunter’s hand clasped around Ford’s wrist, his body once again between Ford and Natalie.

Inch by inch, Hunter pushed at Ford’s arm. For a moment, it seemed like he might be able to push Ford’s arm away. Then Hunter’s fingers slipped on the blood oozing out of Ford, and the knife found its way into his shoulder.

“No!” Natalie screamed. She picked up the heavy lamp sculpture from the night table and slammed it on Ford’s head. Once. Twice. Three times.

Ford toppled like a giant sequoia, flat on his face.

Natalie crawled towards Hunter. She almost slipped on Ford’s blood but righted herself at the last moment and kept going until she reached Hunter’s prone form.

“Hunter? Oh God.”

His eyelids fluttered open.

“Is he … dead?”

“I think so. I don’t know. Come on, get up.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he said.

“Don’t get all lazy on me now,” she asked, putting her hands under him and pulling.

“You’re not … you’re not going to leave me here, are you?” he complained, his voice weaker than she was used to hearing it.

“I’ll carry you out of here if I have to,” she said.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Come on,” she said, pulling hard, “get up.” She ignored his grimace of pain as he tried to do as he asked. Finally, he was on his feet, his knees locked. A muscle bunched behind his strong, square jaw. She bent her knees slightly to take as much of his weight as she could.

“I’m okay,” he said.

“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” she joked. “Here, press this against your shoulder. It’s bleeding a lot.”

From the way he was holding himself, she imagined he’d broken a couple ribs as well. It took them three minutes to cover ground that should have taken them thirty seconds, but finally they were at the door.

She looked down at herself and considered going back to put her clothes back on but then decided not to. She couldn’t bear the thought of walking by Ford again. Even if he was dead. Relief and horror hit her at the same time, making her entire body shake. Hunter’s grip grew stronger around her.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

“My phone …” she said. “I need my phone.”

Hunter found it by her sofa and gave it to her. She clutched it in her hand like a lifeline.

“I don’t have the keys to the car,” she whispered.

“We’ll take my truck,” he said, digging through his pants pocket.

“I should drive,” she said, but her hands were shaking so badly, she didn’t know how she was going to do it.

“I can drive,” he said. “You make the calls.”

She held the phone in her hand but didn’t hit the green button yet. “I killed a man,” she said.