She came up on the entrance to her apartment complex and hit the remote. The gate slid back, and she squeezed through. It was too late to return the rental tonight. She parked next to her motorcycle and carried her bag up to her apartment, then let herself in and flicked the lights on. Dulled by the long drive and the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on, it took her a moment to realize something about her place was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She walked into the living room and stopped. Nothing was out of order, but nothing felt right, as if everything had been moved, then put back in the exact same spot. Then she realized what was wrong—she could smell the faint odor of cologne.
It took her only a matter of seconds to realize her mistake, but the damage was done. The door had closed behind her, cutting off her escape. One hand was still holding the handle of her roller bag, and her mind wasn’t in a defensive mode. She’d handed her intruder all the edge he needed. He came at her from her bedroom, entirely in her blind spot.
“Shit.”
She had enough time to drop the bag and spin around to see a large black-clad-and-gloved figure, wearing a ski mask. She didn’t know why he’d bothered with the ninja disguise. She knew exactly who was hiding under the mask. The Tally Man had caught up with her at last. He charged at her with a Taser outstretched. She chopped her hand across his forearm, sending it flying across the room.
It landed far from both of them. She sorely wanted it, but she wouldn’t rely on it.
She might have disarmed him, but it didn’t stop his momentum. He slammed into her, wrapping his arms around her and driving her forward into the armchair. The chair back chopped her across the stomach, exploding the breath from her, but it also stopped her from crashing to the ground, which would have given him all the advantage he needed.
The impact drove the armchair forward a few inches on the carpet. With his weight on top of her, she was forced onto her toes—but so was he. He was off balance. She pounced on her good fortune and smashed her foot down on his. Her running shoes deformed over a steel toecap. He’d come prepared. She was in real trouble.
He laughed.
His arrogance would be his downfall. She fired an elbow into his gut. His laugh turned into a groan, and he staggered back a step.
The pressure was off her body. Air rushed into her lungs, dulling the pain across her stomach. With no time to rest, she spun around to drive the heel of her hand into the underside of his chin. Instead, she met his backhand. With his size and weight advantage, he whipped her head violently to one side, sending her flying and crashing to the floor.
She didn’t stand a chance on the ground. She was done if he got to her. She scrambled to rise, but only managed to get to all fours before he kicked her in the stomach. Starlight exploded in her vision as air was vacuumed from her lungs. Recovery moves and defense strategies filled her brain, but her body betrayed her, and she deflated under the punishment.
Come on, Zo?, she thought. You’re better than this. It was a rallying cry she believed but that her body did not.
He staggered toward her, rubbing his stomach.
Keep on coming, she thought. Let him think he’s won. That was the key. She still had options. Her strength was returning one ragged breath at a time, but she feigned serious injury. She raised her legs, bending them at the knee, and moaned. It looked good. It looked real. She was ready for him.
He reached into his pocket and brought out a wadded rag. She didn’t have to be told what was on it and what it was for.
When he got within range, she shot out a leg, smashing him in the groin. She felt her foot connect with a cup. She didn’t hurt him, but it did repel him.
He was way too prepared. Way too practiced. Way too frightening.
She scrabbled away on her back using the armchair as a barrier between them.
He was moving in when someone banged on the door.
“What the fuck is going on in there? People are trying to sleep.”
Her assailant turned toward the door. Zo? saw her opportunity, rolled over, and lunged across the carpet for the Taser. “Help! Call 911,” she yelled.
The door opened and in the doorway stood her neighbor from downstairs. She didn’t know his name. His appearance created an awkward dilemma for her attacker—who to disable first, Zo? or her neighbor?
He chose Zo?. It was obvious her neighbor was no match for him. He charged at her, and she snatched up the Taser. Before she could get to her feet, he kicked it from her outstretched arm.
“Hey,” came a feeble cry from her neighbor.
The intruder dropped on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground with his knees. She peppered his back with knee blows but just didn’t have the power or reach to have a real impact.
He smashed her with a right hook that took the fight out of her. “You’ve done so much better this time around, Zo?,” he said with real admiration in his voice.
He put his hands around her throat and squeezed. He was applying pressure to all the right spots. She knew she’d black out soon if she didn’t break his grip. She wrenched at his hands, then clawed at his face but couldn’t reach. She felt a buzzing in her head and the world collapse in.
“This isn’t over. I still need to cross you off my to-do list.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Zo? exploded back into life to the sound of voices around her and hands upon her. An intense light was in her face, obscuring everything and everyone. She screamed and struck out in all directions, occasionally making a connection.