by CP Smith
I started to ask her what she wanted, but she pushed through the door without being asked to come in, and headed for the living room, shouting, “James?” as her perfume choked me.
“He’s not here,” I called out, following her into our living room.
“When will he be back?”
“He’s at work. Is there something I can help you with, Donna?”
He was supposed to drop in soon for his dinner break, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
She ignored me and started walking through the house, looking around each room as if she were ready to buy the place. I should have insisted she leave right then, but I wanted to know what her game was.
“I see you’ve settled in. I can barely see anything left of James,” she sneered in my direction.
“And how would you know that?” I questioned.
If I found out James had dated this woman at any point, I’d strangle him for not telling me. We’d already had a discussion about previous relationships, and he’d never brought this woman up. Though I should point out, it was more like I asked and he coughed up what I wanted to know. But other than Jonathan—whom he’d already talked to—he didn’t want to know jack about anyone else because he said, and I quote, “It’s better I don’t know for their own safety.”
A look of superiority crawled across her face while I waited for her answer. “I told you last week, I practically grew up here. I’ve known James his whole life, unlike you.”
I took at her outfit again, considered the attitude pulsing off of her in waves, and knew then she didn’t just have a thing for James; she was in love with him.
“So you clearly think because you’ve known him longer, you have some sort of right to him, is that it?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “And I won’t let some slut walk in here and turn his head, just because she gives good head.”
I wanted to reach out and slug her, or claw her eyes out, but instead, I ran my hands through my hair to keep from touching her. Nothing would be gained by violence, except my extreme satisfaction at having ripped her poufy hair from her skinny body.
In the process of flipping my hair back, Donna caught sight of my engagement ring and froze. “Is that his grandmother’s engagement ring?” she asked, shocked.
I looked down at the stunning ring resting snuggly on my left hand and wondered how the hell she knew this about my ring. James had told me his grandmother Mayson had willed him her engagement ring when she died. The almost two-carat diamond had been her most prized possession since James Sr.’s father had died suddenly at the age of thirty-nine. James Sr. had been an only child who’d looked after his mother from an early age, causing him to grow up and take on the role of man of the house earlier than he should have. Knowing this about his dad left no doubt in my mind that he’d also instilled those same values into my James. Family meant everything to my man.
“How the hell do you know where my ring came from?”
Her eyes turned cold at my answer, and she lunged at me, trying to grab my hand and the ring that symbolized everything to me.
I shoved her back in shock. “Are you crazy?”
“I should have done somethin’ about you when I saw you rubbin’ all over him on the side of the road,” she shrieked, and my jaw dropped. She’d seen James kiss me when he changed my flat?
“Donna, I don’t know what’s goin’ on here,” I began calmly, hoping to reach her on some level other than anger. “But James loves me; we’re gettin’ married in two months. You need to deal with it now or lose his friendship forever. I know him well enough to know he won’t stand for you insultin’ me the way you’ve done tonight.”
“My father and James Sr. were in the Air Force together,” she snapped as if I hadn’t even spoken. “His parents and my parents are best friends. We have a connection. One a two-bit whore can’t come between. It’s you who are crazy if you think I’ll allow you to take him away from me.”
She was not to be believed.
“If your families are as close as you say, then your behavior here tonight will destroy that. So you have one minute to leave before I call James. I don’t think either one of us wants me to do that.”
Her face blanked at my threat; an eerie calm settling over her. Since she didn’t move to leave, I walked through the living room into the open kitchen and picked up the phone. Before I could dial the first number, she ripped the phone from my hand. When I lunged for the receiver, she cocked it back and slammed it into my head, causing stars to burst behind my eyes. I stumbled, stunned by the attack. She lunged without warning, ripping the phone from the wall in the process, and tried to wrap the cord around my neck. One of my hands managed to get between the cord and my throat, blocking her attempt to strangle me.
“You’re crazy,” I sputtered as I fought her.
She tightened her hold. “It’s your fault. All of it. You should have left town with your tail between your legs after I destroyed all your stuff. But instead, you’re livin’ my life.”
She’d been the one to destroy my house?
Totally, completely nuts.
For a brief second, I was hysterical that I once again found myself fighting for my life in James’s kitchen. I loved this kitchen. Dreamed of the meals I’d prepare here for James and our kids one day. And it pissed me off royally she was ruining that for me.
I don’t know where it came from, maybe some TV show or movie I’d once seen, but without a second thought I reared back my head and slammed it into her nose. Donna screamed on impact and let go of me. While she held her nose as blood poured from it like an open faucet, I untangled myself and ran for the back door and the cover of darkness.
She’d clearly come unhinged at the news James and I were getting married and had snapped. She had nothing to lose at this point after attacking me, and I knew with certainty she would kill me if she got the chance.
The keys to my car were in the bedroom and I’d have to go through her to get to them. I wasn’t about to get that close to her again, so my only chance was to hide until James came home. If I made a run for it, hoping to flag someone down on the road, I’d be putting myself in her line of sight.
The storm had kicked up while I’d argued with Donna. Flashes of light lit the night sky as rain pummeled the ground making my escape hazardous. I needed cover and a plan. Any order would work for me, so I dashed to the barn and slid through the door, barring it from the inside.
Once secured, I ran to the ladder that would take me up into the hayloft to hide. I swallowed a few times before grabbing a rung. I hated heights, and his hayloft was twenty feet or higher from the ground. James had just recently stacked hay, giving me little room to squeeze past, but I managed to hunker down behind a stack next to the edge so I could keep an eye out if Donna came inside.
Moments later, I heard the main door shake as if Donna tried to open it, then nothing. My breath came in great gulps as my heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out the sound of the storm. Closing my eyes, I sent out a silent prayer to God that James would come home earlier than expected, that he would somehow know that I was in trouble and come save me.
My prayers went unanswered when I heard glass break and the sound of Donna huffing and puffing her way through a window below.
“I know you’re in here, you stupid whore,” Donna shouted.
I covered my mouth to keep from answering.
Peering through the crack in the floor, I watched Donna pick up a pitchfork. With a hysterical madness in her eyes, she began searching the stalls, spearing anything bigger than a child with the sharp tines. Once she’d finished with the last stall, her eyes popped up to the hayloft.
I knew I could keep her from climbing the ladder if I had to, but eventually, one of us would tire or fall in the struggle. I needed a weapon or an escape. Looking behind me, I saw a small window about five feet off the floor and wondered how far a drop it would be if I attempted to escape through it.
“James is mine. I am
his,”—Donna sang, her words chipper like a child reciting a rhyme—“and nothin’ will come between us. Not even some Nashville bimbo,” she giggled.
I looked through the crack and saw her standing below, looking up at my hiding spot. Our eyes met, and her mouth pulled into an evil grin. “Guess I’ll have to smoke you out,” Donna cackled, then grabbed a lantern from a hook.
“Oh, my God.” This whole place would go up like the finely aged tinder it was.
I struggled to pull myself out of the crouch I was in, pushing against the bales. My foot was caught between the two, so when I fell to the floor, I kicked out with my free leg against the tower of hay. The bales teetered to and fro as my foot freed, then they were gone, spilling over the edge. I watched in horror as the bales slammed into her back, pinning her to the ground. Then my face blanched with fear when the lantern exploded, fuel igniting as it spread across the floor. Fire burst to life in the scattered hay, and my stomach dropped. She’d managed to light the lantern.
The kerosene erupted into billowing flames within seconds, catching everything within reach on fire, including the bales Donna was lying under. In less than a breath, the jeans she wore caught fire, and she began to scream. I tripped on my way to the ladder, trying to get down to her so she wouldn’t burn to death, but this fire had a life of its own. It was like a dragon, sucking the air from the barn then spewing molten heat back out as it engulfed the floor. Before I could get my foot on the first rung of the ladder, the heat from below scorched my face.
Donna shrieked, as her whole body engulfed in flames, the nightmare playing out before me like a train wreck. I dove back into the bales, scrambling over them to the window as I tried to block out the smoke with my shirt. My eyes teared up from the suffocating mixture of fire, heat, and the horror I’d witnessed making it hard to see. Dirt and sweat clouded my vision as I climbed several bales to reach the window, but I didn’t hesitate to punch my foot through the panes. The fire seemed to grow exponentially with the added oxygen, crawling up the walls of the old barn. I could barely see through the gray, rising smoke of burning hay and timber, but the drop to the ground looked to be at least twenty feet, right into farm equipment with sharp edges that looked more like the maw of a monster waiting to impale me on its sharp teeth. I knew I’d end up staked if I tried to jump. Rain pummeled my face as I searched for something to grab hold of, hoping to climb down the side of the barn, away from certain death. There was a tree to the left of me with a large limb, but I couldn’t reach it. I was frantically looking for another way down when the floor beneath my feet began catch fire. My time had run out. I had to get out or die right along with Donna.
Out of options, I shimmied through the window and hung on with both arms bent on the windowsill. My booted feet were dug into the wall, anchoring me to the barn until I could attempt a safe jump, when I saw headlights bouncing at a fast clip up the driveway from the road. I watched James come to a sliding stop in front of the corral outside barn, then jump out of his truck, thundering, “Susan!”
I screamed at the top of my lungs as he ran toward the front of the barn, hoping he could hear my over the rain. He stopped when I called out his name and ran to the side where I was hanging. He froze momentarily at the sight of me, then shouted, “Hold on, baby,” before turning on his heel and running back the way he came.
I watched on a choking breath as he disappeared around the corner. A moment later I tracked him as he ran to his truck and climbed in. He backed it up quickly as I watched, then threw it into drive and barreled down on the barn at a high rate of speed. I turned in time to watch the truck punch through the wall, its headlights bouncing as flaming wood went flying, coming to a shuddering stop in the center of the barn. The fire snapped at the truck like a rabid dog as James bound out of it, but I lost sight of him when my feet slipped their hold on the wet surface of the barn, and I lost my footing, causing me to slide farther out the window.
I felt my fingers begin to slip as the dead weight of my body pulled me down. This was it. Donna would get her way. I’d never get to walk down the aisle. Never get to bear his children and watch them grow. Never get to say I love you again.
I whispered, “I love you,” to James as my fingers began to slip further, but milliseconds before they gave way, James appeared in the window and reached down, grabbing both of my wrists.
“Pull me up, pull me up. Please don’t let go of me,” I sobbed uncontrollably, scared his hands would slip in the pouring rain.
“Never,” James gritted out, his biceps bulging as he pulled me up an inch at a time through the window, “lettin’ go.”
I was in his arms for a brief second before he covered me with a blanket, threw me over his shoulder, and ran for our lives. There was a brief sensation of being airborne, then we landed soundly, James going to his knees only long enough to pick me up from what I saw was the bed of his truck, before jumping to the ground and running out the hole in the wall.
He put me down once we’d cleared the opening, then grabbed my hand and we continued running. Only, I remembered Donna when I saw her car parked next to mine, and stopped, pulling on his arm. “James! Donna Coletta’s in the barn.”
James stopped and looked at me, barking out “What?” then glanced back at the driveway and then barn. Pain masked his features when he took in the swelling flames, knowing, as I did, she couldn’t be helped. I grabbed his arm as he started to head back to the barn, but a flare of fire flashed brightly under his truck, blinding us both. He turned instantly and dove at me, taking us both to the ground as his truck exploded in a brilliant burst of flaming light. James curled his body around mine, tucking my head under his chin as hot debris rained down on us, hissing and snapping, then sizzling as the pouring rain smothered the flames. My ears rang from the explosion, my hearing muted. I could tell James was saying something from the rumble in his chest, so I looked up at him.
“Talk to me, Susan. Are you okay?”
I nodded, then shook my head and began to cry. How could I be all right with everything that had happened?
Burying my head in his neck, I held on as the tears flowed. I cried for Donna. Her parents. For James and his family, knowing they would all be hurt when they found out how twisted she’d become. They’d never recover from her death, but they’d also have to live with the fact that she tried to murder me. In essence, she’d sentenced them all to the repercussions of her madness.
James held me tightly as he watched what was left of his barn burn to the ground, rocking me gently as I shook. Once I was calm, I turned and looked at the burned-out shell. Surprisingly the explosion put out most of the fire, leaving behind smoldering beams and hay. The rain handled the rest.
“I need to call MFD so they can recover Donna’s body.”
I nodded as he rose to his feet, bringing me with him. I watched him closely to gauge his mood. If he and Donna were as close as she said they were, then the loss of a friend would be hard. Finding out exactly why she died, would be even worse.
I’d forgotten about the phone being destroyed, so when we entered the kitchen, James marched to it, growling, “What the fuck happened here?”
The receiver lay on the floor where I threw it after Donna tried to choke me, and her blood splattered the surface from her broken nose. I began to shake with the memories, but took a deep breath to control it, then uttered the words I dreaded saying. “Donna tried to kill me.”
James’s eyes narrowed, then he bit out, “Come again?” on a hiss filled with malice.
Reaching for the counter to steady myself, I explained the events that led up to the fire. “Donna was jealous of me, and she snapped when she saw my engagement ring. She tried to strangle me with the phone cord, so I head-butted her and took off for the barn. She followed me, and when I wouldn’t come down out of the hayloft, she intended to set a fire. I kicked a bale of hay on her by accident when I tried to escape, but she’d already lit the lantern. The barn went up instantly, and if not for you, I w
ould be dead. I swear she tried to kill me, James. She admitted to following you. Was there the first time you kissed me. She even admitted she was the one who destroyed my house to scare me off.”
I expected him to ask a million questions, to interrogate me like the deputy he was, but instead, he turned and punched a hole in the kitchen wall, thundering, “Son of a bitch!” Then he punched the wall again, and again. I ran to him when it looked like he wouldn’t stop, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t hurt himself. But the moment I touched him, he turned and yanked me into his arms, effectively cutting off my air with his tight hold. “I could have lost you. Christ, I could have lost you because of that bitch,” he snarled. “She’s hounded me for fuckin’ years with her insane belief we belonged together. But I never thought she’d go this far. Fuck me, I could have lost everything, and it would have been all my fault.”
I don’t know how it began. Maybe kissing his cheek, his neck, his lips in an effort to comfort him had an effect. All I know is it ended with James ripping my sopping jeans off to bury himself deep inside me. And I didn’t care. I needed him as much as he needed me.
He was out of control, wild. Pumping into me with a single-minded purpose as I held on. Our mouths were open on the other’s, exchanging breath, our eyes open so we wouldn’t miss a single moment. We climaxed as violently as the night had been, grunting words of love while we plummeted from the highest heights to crash back down to the reality of what we could have lost, and what was to come.
Wet heat slid down my leg when he withdrew from my body and lifted me into his arms, carrying me to our bedroom. He grabbed the phone on his bedside table, but never let go of my hand as I lay there panting, still needing the connection. When the dispatcher asked if medical attention was needed, James looked at me with angry eyes and said, “We have one fatality.”