by Jennie Marts
She was through with that noise.
The best way to gain control of her life and her situation was to reach out and take it. To grab control by the balls and make it her bitch.
Fitz’s words came rushing back to her. Fear is something you meet and walk through. You have to face it to get to the other side. Fear is just a word.
So is strength. And courage. And guts.
He’d told her to stand up, kick fear in the throat, and fight for what she wanted. To grab it and not let go.
This was her chance. Her chance to face fear—to meet it, boot it in the face, and walk through to the other side.
Bravery started with one step, one action.
She gripped the stun gun in her hand. She’d be damned if she’d let this ass-wipe take her down without a fight.
She took a step forward and looked around the biology lab. She might have got a D+ in this class, but she’d seen Home Alone four times, and if a ten-year-old kid could take down a couple of thugs with a bucket of paint and some marbles, she could surely disable one deranged psychopath with a biology lab and a pink stun gun called The Terminator.
Her gaze took in all the tools at her disposal. She only had a few minutes so a complicated pulley system with a hot iron was out, but she did have plenty of other resources at hand.
Working through the plan in her head, she quickly constructed what she hoped was a sufficient trap.
The bathroom was locked, so the only way in was through the door leading to the hallway. She spied an extension cord snaking out from under the teacher’s desk and set a make-shift trip-wire by wrapping one end tightly around the leg of the desk and the other around the leg of the heavy lab table across from it. A bottle of dish detergent sat on the edge of the sink, and she squirted a thick layer all over the floor in front of the cord.
The sink also held a bucket of liquid with tools soaking in it. She didn’t know what the liquid was. A shimmery film appeared to cover the top of the water so it could be soap or some kind of cleaner or it could be plain water. It didn’t matter. Its only purpose was to surprise Clay and catch him off-guard just long enough for her to jab him with the stun gun.
Taking a deep breath, she readied herself, calling up all her inner reserves of courage.
I can do this.
She was not a victim of her circumstances, and she wasn’t about to let herself be a victim of this lunatic.
Gently pulling the door open a few inches, she listened for any signs of him.
A sound, like a scrape, resonated from down the hall, and her heart jumped into her throat. He was out there. Somewhere. She just needed to lure him in.
She didn’t want to slam the door—that would too obvious—but she closed it with enough force to make an audible sound.
Gripping the stun gun in one hand, she turned the device on, then grabbed the bucket of tools with the other.
She held her breath as she stood motionless behind the door and waited.
Edna had told her the charge from the gun wouldn’t pass through his body to hers so her best bet was to get on top of him and use her body weight to hold him down.
The older lady also said she had to press the gun against the assailant for at least three to five seconds to disable and disorient him, so she knew she had to be patient and wait for the exact moment to have the best chance of stunning him. She tried to imagine herself holding Clay down with the stun gun pushed to his neck while she yelled, “One Mississippi, two Mississippi…”
No. She just had to hit him where it hurt and pray she could hold on long enough.
It felt like ten minutes ticked by as she stared at the doorknob willing it to turn, but it probably took less than one.
This is it. Time to kick fear AND Clay in the throat.
The knob slowly turned, and the door slid open. Then an outstretched hand appeared, the gun clenched in its fingers.
Shit.
Piper was hoping he still had the gun in his pocket.
It didn’t matter.
It was too late to turn back now.
She just had to be smarter, and faster, than him.
Clay pushed through the door and took three steps into the room.
She’d purposely tipped over a chair in the back corner to make it look like she’d headed that direction.
Her throat burned and she swallowed, praying he would take one more step toward the make shift trip-wire.
He did.
Thank you, God.
He was positioned perfectly. Now she’d see if her plan really worked.
“Hey, asshole,” she said.
He whipped around, and she threw the bucket of tools and liquid straight at his chest.
The gun went off, the sound booming through the room.
She swore she felt the disturbance of air as the bullet sped past her shoulder, but she didn’t have a second to waste.
Clay took a step back, his right foot landing in the soap. As he pulled his other foot back, his shoe skidded on the slippery surface.
His arms pin-wheeled, the gun circling through the air as the back of his shin connected with the extension cord, and he went flailing backwards.
He swore as he landed on his tailbone, then his head hit the linoleum floor, and the gun went flying from his hand.
Piper barely heard it skidding across the floor over the ringing in her ears, but from the corner of her eye, she saw it slide under the cabinet against the wall as she sprung forward, The Terminator extended in her hand.
A primal scream came from somewhere inside of her as she leapt on top of Clay’s legs.
She pressed the button on the stun gun and jammed it against his groin.
The gun made a horrific sound of crackling electricity, and Clay’s eyes went wide with shock.
He tried to fight her, roaring out foul names for her as he swung punches against her side and arms. But the whack to his head must have disoriented him, because his blows had little effect.
Either that, or her adrenaline was pumping so hard she didn’t feel them. She was sure her body would be covered in bruises tomorrow, but a bruise was a much better alternative than a bullet.
As the current passed through Clay, his chest and legs jerked in spasms, then his arms thrashed out, and finally his body went limp under her.
She pressed the gun harder against him, holding it for another few seconds, just to be sure.
The room was eerily silent as she let go of the button and pushed away from Clay’s prone body. Her hands and feet slid in the soapy film surrounding his body, but she backpedaled away, kicking against his legs for traction then pulling herself up using the side of the lab table. She wanted to collapse on the floor, her knees going weak, but she couldn’t.
She had to get out of there. She had to get to Fitz.
Zipping the stun gun back into her jacket pocket, she was tempted to forage under the cabinet for the gun, but chose to take advantage of Clay being disabled and run instead.
Taking a few tentative steps, she rubbed the soles of her shoes clean on the floor, then ran through the door, slamming it shut behind her.
She sprinted back toward the gym and up the hallway toward the closet Fitz was locked in.
Blue and red lights flashed through the windows, their colors reflecting off the lockers. Her ears still rang from the blast of the gunshot, but she could hear the muffled sounds of sirens as she grabbed the chair blocking the closet door and ripped it away.
She jerked the door open and let out a cry as she saw Fitz lying there, his eyes closed, blood pooling on the floor by his head, and his phone on the floor next to his outstretched hand.
His face and the side of his head was covered in blood. So much blood.
The closet reeked of its coppery scent.
Bile filled her throat, but she swallowed it back.
Dropping to her knees, she yanked off her jacket and pressed it to the wound on his scalp, praying he was only unconscious and not dead.
H
is eyes fluttered open, and she sobbed in relief.
Loud bangs echoed in the hall as the school doors were forced open followed by footsteps in the hall and Mac’s voice calling her name. “Piper!”
“We’re in here! We need help!” She cradled Fitz’s head in her lap as she screamed for Mac.
He appeared in the doorway then knelt next to her as he yelled out orders. “Get the EMTs over here! Now!”
Mac wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away as the small closet was suddenly filled with paramedics and equipment as they went to work on Fitz.
Piper clung to Mac’s chest. “It was Clay. He shot him. He’s in the biology lab. In the next hall over.”
Mac spoke into his mic. “Assailant is armed and dangerous. Last seen in the biology lab on the southeast side of the school.”
She shook her head. “He’s on the floor, by the desk. I zapped him with Edna’s stun gun. Tell them to watch out—the floor is slippery with soap.”
The officer’s eyes widened, but he relayed the information to his team.
The EMTs loaded Fitz onto a stretcher. Piper and Mac hurried after them as they rushed him out of the school and into a waiting ambulance.
“We got him,” a voice crackled through the mic. “Suspect in custody.”
Piper wanted to collapse with relief, but she couldn’t. She clutched at Mac’s sleeve. “There’s a bomb. At least one. Clay said he set something for Kyle and the two other guys who tortured him in high school. I don’t know their names but Kyle can tell you.”
“We know. Fitz told us when he called in. We sent a team, and they’ve already secured Kyle and the other boys and are working to evacuate their houses and apartments.”
She sagged against him. Thank God.
Of course, Fitz had told them when he called.
It was only a stroke of dumb luck that he had been holding Piper’s phone when Clay found them. If Clay hadn’t assumed the phone belonged to Fitz, he wouldn’t have locked him in the closet with his own phone still in his pocket.
Who knew how many people Fitz had saved by making that call?
Now all she could do was pray that the same call would save him. She had to get to the hospital—had to see if he was all right.
The siren of the ambulance wailed as the vehicle sped out the exit of the school parking lot.
Another car came tearing in through the entrance, its tires squealing as they bounced up onto the sidewalk and skidded to a stop in the grass. The door flung open, and Claire practically fell out. Leaving the car running and the door open, she stumbled forward, crying out Piper’s name as she ran toward her.
“Mom,” she whispered, a sob stuck in her throat. Then she didn’t think, didn’t stop to contemplate her decision, she just reacted as she ran toward Claire and threw herself into her mother’s arms.
Claire pulled her tightly to her chest, kissing the top of her head, her voice coming out in hard gasps as she tried to control her own crying. “Oh God, Piper. Are you okay?” She pulled back, still holding her daughter with one arm as she cupped her cheek in her hand and inspected her face. “You’re covered in blood. Where are you hurt? Why didn’t the ambulance take you?”
“I’m okay, Mom,” she said, her arms still wrapped around her. She wasn’t quite ready to let go. “It’s Fitz’s blood.” At least she thought so. She had no idea if she was bleeding or what injuries she’d sustained as Clay had chased her around the school.
“I knew something was wrong when you didn’t come home. I could feel it in my bones,” Claire told her, pulling her tightly against her again. “Then when I heard the sirens, I knew they were headed toward you. I got here as fast as I could.”
“Thanks for coming,” Piper said. “But we’ve got to go now. Can you drive me to the hospital?”
Thirty minutes later, the emergency room sitting area was full as Piper sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for news of Fitz. In that time, not only had she and Claire made it to the hospital, but Fitz’s parents and most of the Page Turners book club had shown up as well.
It wasn’t the ideal way for Piper to meet her boyfriend’s parents, but no one seemed to care.
Cassie and Matt had met them at the hospital. She’d had to give her clothes, already crusting with dried blood, to the police, and her uncle had given her his sweatshirt to put on over the thin hospital scrubs they’d given her to wear after she’d handed over her clothes. Her small frame swam in the roomy shirt, but it was warm and not covered in blood, and she buried her hands in the sleeves and wrapped her arms around her stomach.
Sunny and Edna had shown up with coffee and hot tea and made sure everyone had a warm cup in their hands.
Maggie had known Fitz since he was a kid, and she leaned against the wall, occasionally pacing the room, too anxious to sit still.
The occupants of the room rose as one as the emergency room doors opened, and the doctor stepped through.
He held up his hands and smiled warmly. “Mr. Fitzgerald is going to be fine. The bullet only grazed the side of his head. He needed a few stitches, and we’ve given him something for the pain, but he’s doing great.”
“A few stitches?” Piper asked. “But there was so much blood…”
“There always is when a head wound is involved,” the doctor explained. “We’re going to admit him and keep him overnight for observation, but he should be able to go home tomorrow.”
Thank goodness. She squeezed her mom’s hand. Although she couldn’t quite remember when she’d taken it.
Claire had been by her side the entire time, she realized. Not pushing or needing anything. Just being there for her. It was a new experience—to have her mom be the one there for her instead of the other way around.
Fitz’s parents thanked the doctor and asked if they could see him.
They followed him back toward the emergency room just as Mac entered the waiting area from the street.
“Any word on the kid?” he asked, his brow creased in concern.
“He’s going to be fine,” Piper told him. “Evidently, the bullet only grazed his head.”
“That’s what the EMTs had told me. But those head wounds bleed like a bitch. I know you were scared.”
She nodded, suddenly unable to talk as memories of cradling Fitz’s bleeding head in her lap filled her mind.
“He’s young and healthy. And the gun we recovered was a small caliber weapon, so it wouldn’t have done too much damage if it only grazed the side of his head. He’ll pull through fine. I’ve seen young guys in my department take a bullet and be back to work the next week showing off their scar.”
She hoped he was right.
“I thought you’d want to know the other guys are safe. The team went in and recovered two homemade dirty bombs—one in Kyle’s apartment and one in the house the other two guys rent. They were set to go off at midnight tonight.”
“That little bastard,” Edna swore. “Who knows how many people would have been hurt or killed?” She placed a hand on Piper’s shoulder. “You and Fitz were both so brave tonight.”
She smiled up at Edna. “Thanks to you and that little pink stun gun you gave me.”
“Too bad it wasn’t a real gun,” Edna muttered. “That guy deserved more than just a jolt to his man-marbles.”
A grin pulled at the corner of Piper’s lips. Where did Edna get this stuff? “I’m just glad we got him. And he can’t hurt anyone else.”
Mac offered her an encouraging smile. “You did good, kid.”
She had done well. She’d been brave and stood up for herself against the thing she feared. And she’d won. Clay was in custody, and she and her family were safe.
The important thing now was to focus on Fitz.
Two weeks later, Piper closed her textbook and leaned back in her chair with a smile.
She’d spent the last hour at her desk in her room, studying for an English exam, because time does not stop when it came to college courses and homework. Not that studying for an
English exam made her happy, but the fact that things in her life seemed to be getting back to normal certainly did.
She’d always wished for a normal life, but she was finally figuring out ‘normal’ had many definitions and meant different things to different people.
To her, right now, it meant school and studying for midterms. It meant Fitz was home from the hospital and back to brewing coffee and solving ridiculously complicated engineering equations and making out with her on the sofa at night after her mom had gone to bed. It meant taking Nola for walks and creating frothy cappuccinos at work while she flirted shamelessly with her cute shift leader. It meant things were good with her mom, and the Page Turners had picked a new book club book to read, and Edna’s hair had faded back to silver with just the slightest blue twinge.
They’d also heard that Dragon’s life was getting back to normal too. He’d made a full recovery and had also been released from the hospital. He was home now but was hoping to return to school next semester.
Which reminded her that she needed to take care of her next payment for school. Evidently, being a poor college student was also part of her normal. But that was okay.
Everything right now seemed not just okay, but pretty great. Like her life was finally settling down into what she’d hoped it would be.
Nola was curled at her feet. She let out a contented doggy-groan as Piper rubbed her belly with her foot while she pulled her debit card from her wallet and placed the call to the Bursars office at the college.
Thankfully, an actual person answered, and Piper gave them her name and Social Security number and explained she wanted to make a payment.
“I’m sorry, Miss Denton, it seems you’re mistaken. Your tuition bill has already been paid.”
“Um, no. I wish that were the case, but I believe you are the one who is mistaken. You must be looking at someone else’s account.”
The clerk repeated her full name and social. “It says right here the whole tuition for this year and next has been paid in full.”