I had to get the gun out, and I couldn't do it smashed up against him. I shifted my butt back just a bit. Just enough to grab the gun.

At that moment, Crocker pulled away and ripped my shirt open down the middle.

Crappy doodles. I hadn’t planned on that.

But the side of my shirt still covered the handle of the gun. I narrowed my eyes and lifted the corners of my mouth into a tiny grin. I hoped it looked like I couldn’t wait to see what he would do next, when really I couldn't wait to see what I was going to do next.

Fear slunk around inside my head, bursting into my consciousness in spasms. He was going to find my gun any minute and when he did, I'd be dead.

He grabbed my hair again. Apparently, he was a hair guy. He kissed me again. As I fought the urge to gag, I heard a commotion below and decided to use it to my advantage. My teeth clamped down on Crocker’s lower lip. I tasted his blood and gagged, releasing my hold. He shoved me away, furious. I pulled the gun out of my pants and pointed it at him.

“I thought you liked it rough,” I said, hands shaking. He’d backed up when he shoved me away. He stood in front of the door, about three feet from me. Sounds of the apocalypse rose from below, but Crocker didn't seem to notice. He hunched over, his arms ready to pounce. His eyes bugged out and blood covered his lower lip. Daniel Crocker was the scariest predator I had ever faced.

“You’re not gonna shoot me,” he sneered, moving a foot toward me.

“Wanna bet?” I lowered the gun and shot into his leg, nearly dropping the gun from the shock of what I had just done.

“Son of a bitch!” he screamed and lunged for me. I backed out of the way and he fell to the floor, grasping for my feet. He grabbed my legs, and pulled me down. I landed hard on my side. Crocker pulled himself along the length of my body, none too gently, reaching for the gun. I couldn't figure out how to keep it out of his reach and shoot him at the same time. I tossed it into the corner of the room.

Crocker tried to get up to get it but I clawed his face. Falling on top of me, he reached back to punch me in the face when the door flung open.

“I swear to God, Crocker, you hit her and I'll kill you.” Joe shouted from the doorway.

We both turned to look, but Joe didn’t have a gun to back up his statement. Crocker turned back to hit me. Muffy bolted past Joe’s legs and jumped on Crocker, biting the arm he held up.

Crocker rolled off me, batting at Muffy, who refused to let go and made wild snarling noises.

Joe rushed over and pulled me up, then grabbed the gun off the desk. He pointed it toward Crocker.

“Muffy, come here,” I said calmly, in spite of the shock of what just happened.

Muffy stopped and came to sit beside me.

“It’s over, Crocker,” Joe said.

Crocker threw a floor lamp at Joe. Joe stumbled backward as Crocker rolled over onto his stomach. He reached for my gun and flipped over. “Not yet,” he grunted.

I heard a gunshot and screamed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I’d heard of time standing still, but until that moment, I always thought it was a figure of speech. When Crocker turned over with the gun, a million things happened at once, yet I was aware of every single one of them. Shouting and crashing downstairs. Crocker pointing the gun. Joe throwing me to the floor. Muffy rushing for Crocker’s arm. The sound of the gunshot. My scream. Even with all that knowledge in the moment, I didn’t know what I’d find on the other side.

When I looked up, Joe still stood where I last saw him, so I took that as a good sign. Muffy was growling and Crocker shouted and cursed, the gun still in his hand, pointed to the ceiling. Another shot. I jumped up to my feet, trying to get out of the way of any stray bullets.

Muffy had a death grip on Crocker’s arm, shaking as she snarled. Joe kept his gun pointed at the man rolling on the floor but couldn’t get a good shot with Muffy in the way. I looked on the desk for something to use as a weapon and found a crystal geode bookend. I picked it up, surprised to find it so heavy.

Crocker tried to shake Muffy off but when that didn’t work he started hitting her with his free hand. Muffy held on.

Seeing him hit Muffy pissed me off. And once I let that feeling wash through my head, fury followed right behind it. How dare he hit my dog? And tear up my house, not to mention my new blouse? Who did he think he was, beating people up and killing them? He’d messed with the wrong woman.

“Get your grimy hands off my dog!” I flung the rock at Crocker’s head.

The geode hit him square in the temple, and his arms crumpled into a heap on his chest, the gun tumbling to the floor with a clatter. Joe ran over and picked up the gun as Muffy hopped off Crocker’s body. Joe turned to me, disbelief on his face and just a hint of anger.

“He was messin’ with my dog,” I said in my defense.

Joe rolled Crocker onto his stomach and pulled his hands behind his back.

“Did I kill him?” I asked, scared I’d broken another of the Ten Commandments. I was really on a roll.

“No, but he’ll have one hell of headache when he wakes up.” Joe jerked the electrical cord of a floor lamp out of the wall. He pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket and cut the cord from the base, then wrapped it around Crocker’s wrists.

He walked over to me and tugged me into his arms. I let myself relax into his chest. “Is it over?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s over.” He sighed with relief, blowing hairs on top of my head.

We clung to each other for a minute, thankful we could, then Joe grabbed my arms and pulled me away to face him, anger burning in his eyes.