RAISE YOUR HAND

Chapter 4

"I'm sorry," she bowed her head.

"I should shoot you. Yeah. I should kill you right here and now," he laughed short while her head snapped up. "Do you know how easy it would be to get rid of you? Everyone on the department loves me. No one would question a thing. I could say it was an accident. We were sitting here," he gestured over the table, "while I was cleaning my gun and boom. Gun went off. Your brains splattered against the wall there behind you. Horrible, horrible accident," he said shaking his head, his fingers stroking the butt of the gun sticking out from his holster.

"I love you, David," she swallowed, tears welling in her eyes as her body shook.

"No. No, you don't. You hate me. You resent me. That's what this is. You think you're gonna work for some company where there's other men around so you can leave me? I don't think so."

"It really is an office." What did she have to lose? May as well speak her mind if she were going to die anyway.

David's breath was sucking in and out in a heavy way. It looked like he wasn't sure what he was going to do. His hair was plastered against his forehead. Was he okay? The obvious answer was no, but he looked a little stranger than normal. He was never this sweaty or looked as confused as he did right now. Was he on something?

"David? Are...are you alright?"

Her concern caused him to pause. Interesting. Maybe this was a new tactic she could use. Hopefully.

"What do you mean?" he barked. "I'm alright. It's you who's not, remember?"

"You look ill, David. Are you...are you sick?"

Abruptly, David stood throwing his chair across the room. Nope, that angle was not the right one to play. It was worth the try. Maybe. Looking at the broken chair, she wondered if she was going to be expected to fix it. It was beyond repair. One of the legs was splintered into what reminded her of a stake.

A wooden stake. Those were used to kill vampires. If she could get to it, could she use it? Would she be strong enough to run him through? Would it be hard or easy? Was flesh that vulnerable?

When she cut herself with the knife, it didn't feel like anything at the time it happened. It sliced through like butter. Soft and smooth. Would stabbing a chest feel the same? Then what?

Would she be in trouble? She asked this question before and reasoned out that she probably wouldn't under normal circumstances. But this wasn't normal circumstances.

Pacing the small kitchen like a caged animal, he looked more out of his mind than any other time before. For some reason, a strange calm blanketed her earlier panic. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. Maybe it was the realization of defeat. Was she defeated?

It was so quiet. This space. This tiny square of land they stood on could be the last surface she'd ever feel under her feet. The last chair. Her hand gripped the hard edge of the square, and she palmed the smooth surface. It was opposite to the sumptuous leather she had the pleasure of stroking earlier today.

Either way, whether she were defeated or just getting started, she would try to get to the stake. She would try to kill him. Enough was enough.

Slowly, she gained her feet. He didn't seem to notice too busy with pulling at the ends of his hair and mumbling while he paced the kitchen. If he weren't on drugs, then he was definitely having a mental breakdown of some sort.

One step, then another til she reached the broken chair. Kneeling down, making sure to face him, she gripped the leg only to find it still attached to the other legs by a wooden dowel at the base. She wouldn't be using this weapon today. So it was defeat then. David's narrowed eyes finally met hers.