“And you’re starting to get on my last nerve. As I said, I prefer needles, but I’ll use a gun if I have to.” She pulled her gun out again, but before she could train it on me, I grabbed the first thing from the kitchen counter I could get my hands on and swung it at her. The toaster knocked the gun out of her hand and she went scrambling for it. I leaped after her and we both fell to the floor. Luckily I landed on top of her. She struggled beneath me, stretching her arm out to reach the gun. I was at least six inches taller, so I was able to get my hand on it enough to sweep it farther away.
I might’ve been taller, but Althea was more ornery and she easily bucked me off her back. As she clambered to get her footing, she smacked the side of my head so hard I felt my ears ring. I reached out and grabbed her ankle and tugged, causing her to fall to her knees. She screamed in pain.
“I hope that hurt,” I said, then winced. Damn, it hurt to talk. My head ached from that blow to my temple. I couldn’t wait to return the favor.
She was still on her knees as she turned and glared at me. “I’ll show you a world of hurt.”
I believed her. She was a mean, scary bitch, and who knew what else she had in her pockets? Another syringe? A knife? But I could see the strain in her eyes and realized that Whitney was right—she was an old lady. I almost laughed, but it would’ve been too painful.
“You won’t hurt anyone again,” I said, and shoved her in the chest as hard as I could. Her arms flailed out, but she couldn’t get her balance and fell backward. She let out a guttural scream as she lay helplessly on her back with her legs bent at the knee and splayed.
I jumped up and grabbed the gun, pointing it at her. “Don’t move.”
At that moment, I heard shouts from the front porch as a small army of cops stormed into the house. Heavy footsteps stomped through the foyer and dispersed into the living room and down the hall.
“In here!” I shouted. “Help!”
Despite having a gun pointed at her, Althea stretched out her leg and slammed her foot against my shin, causing my knee to buckle. I slid down and leaned against the kitchen cabinet, my leg throbbing.
“What is wrong with you? I’ve got a gun!” I didn’t know if she was brave or just stupid, but she was definitely lucky I didn’t shoot her.
“I need help in here!” I yelled again.
Tommy dashed into the kitchen and his alert gaze went straight to Whitney lying motionless on the floor.
“What’s happened to her?” he demanded, his face pale with fear.
“Althea injected her with a strong tranquilizer,” I said. “She passed out. You’d better get an ambulance.”
He swore loudly, shouted to the others to get in here. Then he knelt and picked up his wife as gently as he could and whisked her out of the house.
Eric raced into the room. “I’ll take the gun,” he said, easing it out of my hand. That was when I realized my hand was shaking.
Eric turned to the cop right behind him. “Cuff her, read her rights, and get her out of here.”
The cop yanked Althea up off the floor and handcuffed her wrists in one smooth action. Another officer joined him and the two of them led her out. She couldn’t go without a fight and wriggled to get free while squealing that she didn’t do anything, all the way out of the house.
I looked up at Eric. “Jane.”
“She’s okay. We’ve got her.”
My knees wobbled with relief. Eric lifted me up from the floor and into his arms. It was the second time in a few months that a handsome man had swept me off my feet. Sadly, I was too shaken to enjoy it.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
I tried for humor, but it was lame. “You mean, besides the post-traumatic stress of being tormented by a psycho killer?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
I nodded. “My leg is throbbing a little and my head hurts, but I’m fine otherwise. You can put me down.”
“I’m not sure you’re ready.”
“I am, really.”
He set me down on the floor reluctantly.
“Are you sure Jane’s okay?” I asked. “When Althea pushed her chair over, I think she hit her head.”
“We’ll have her checked out at the hospital, but she’s feisty. She’s going to be fine.”
“Okay, good.” I was so relieved to know that Jane would be all right I gave in to the dizziness and the throbbing leg and slumped over. In one smooth move, Eric lifted me into his arms again and carried me out to the living room.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, but my words sounded slurred. I was sure it was just a delayed reaction to the horror show we’d just experienced a few moments ago.
“Of course you are,” he said quietly. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d humor me.”
“Okay.”
He set me down on the big chair next to the couch. Even though I was perfectly fine, really, I decided to stay put until I got my bearings back. Eric stood close by and we watched as two of the cops finished removing the duct tape from Jane’s ankles and wrists and helped her up.
Mac rushed into the house, glanced around, and found me. I smiled, grateful to see him. But then I remembered seeing him with the supermodel and my smile faded. I wanted to cry, but that was probably just a delayed reaction to Althea’s attack.
Mac’s eyes narrowed in speculation, but he said nothing as he turned to Eric. “Is she all right?”
“She fainted,” he said gruffly.
“No, I didn’t.”
Eric and Mac exchanged a dubious look.