HUNTER

13

I gulped, took a breath then pounced. The TV crashed to the ground as I flew through the air with a scream with the knife held high. We fell to the floor in a pile. Straddling him I force the knife down, pushing as hard as I could against the pressure of his hands that were wrapped around mine on the hilt. "Just fucking die, arsehole!" I squeal, desperately trying to push harder. My heartbeat thumped in my temples, my hands were shaking as my arms begun to throb but I kept pushing.
"You don't have it in you, Angelica." He grinned up at me with that smug smile I hated so much. "You're not a killer."
"You don't know anything about me," I snarled. With a roar he threw me off. Tossing me aside like a bit of lint. Groaning as I hit my head on the hard floor I quickly try to gather myself. Turning onto my stomach just in time to see Hunter get to his feet. Pushing off the floor I rush forward towards the kitchen putting the cabinets between him and I, the knife still in my hand. My breathing was ragged, his brow was beaded with sweat. He glared at me from the other side of the counter. He'd put some clothes on. Just a simple long sleeved black t-shirt and black trousers. It was as casual as I'd ever seen him. I stood in my cream camisole and blue shorts. The fluffy pink robe forgotten and screwed up somewhere in the living room. "Why are you doing this to me?" I pleaded. My voice pathetic and weak. For the first time I felt truly vulnerable. After everything he'd done to me, this had to be the worst. "Why are you making me do this?"
"You're not a killer, Angelica." He moved slowly around the counter, reaching for the knife. "Give it to me."
"You don't know anything. You don't know me." I mumble sadly. The knife hanging loosely by my side.
"I know who you are. You are my Angelica." He soothed, reaching for the knife. His fingers were inches from it. "You couldn't hurt anyone."
"If you knew me. If you had read more into my past you'd know what I did. What I can do." Tears flooded my eyes I thrust my other hand up as he grabbed hold of the knife. I'd snagged a box cutter out of the drawer before he had made it to the kitchen and kept it hidden. I pushed harder on the cutter. Forcing it deeper into his stomach. His eyes met mine and widened. Shock, fear, and something like respect mixed with love looked back at me as he fell to his knees. "Angelica." He chocked as blood seeped from his lips.
"It's your own fault, Hunter. You should of read more into my hospital stay," I grinned, tapping his cheek patronisingly. "Paul Morris didn't break up with me and leave town, that was my cover story. He's dead. Deader than you are." I giggle, raising the knife, "but not for long."