Page 108 of Good Enough
“Was the meeting ugly?” Waters asked.
“What meeting with that shitweasel wasn’t?” She rubbed her forehead with a sigh. “This one was worse than all the others, though. He started making accusations. Accusing me of stealing the stuff that had disappeared. About me trying to sabotage the film with the accidents. Said I was looking for personal publicity. That I wanted the film shut down so I could collect the insurance money and my fees.”
She began shaking again. Demon appeared silently and kneeled next to her chair, putting his jacket around her shoulders. “She needs rest. Not that anyone’s going to listen to me.” Demon flashed a cranky glance into Waters’ eyes. He snapped his fingers off to his side, and someone put a small bottle of water into his hands. He unscrewed the top and put the bottle and the top on the table in front of her. “Drink,” he ordered her. Then he grunted and turned to give an angry look at Waters.
“Thank you, Demon.” Placing her hand on top of one of his on the table, she drew his eyes to hers. She tried to reassure him with her gaze, then took a long drink of water. She continued, “By the end of the meeting, my filter had turned off completely. I said some pretty awful things, most of which I don’t really remember. It was like this red haze came down over me. Next thing I remember, I was storming out of his office and back to my trailer.”
“Would the secretary have heard all that was said?”
“Stapleton and I were both pretty loud from moment one. And I didn’t close the door when I went in so that there were potential witnesses. She probably sold tickets to the entire staff like it was the finale before the apocalypse.”
Someone snickered quietly.
“Okay, so you went to your trailer. Then what?”
“I called Kowalski. Warned him what Big Bird was planning to do. He said he was hanging up and calling a meeting with the board members. I packed up some things I had there. A few changes of clothes. Some toiletries. Notebooks, that kind of thing. Threw them in my ‘vette and drove home.”
“What time?”
“I guess around eleven?”
“So you get home, and he’s inside the house,” Waters growled.
Suddenly, Kai was transferred back in time to those moments earlier today that changed everything.
Dragging what felt like a ten-ton emotional weight, Kai approached her front door. Could things be any worse? Big Bird was molting worse than ever.
Suddenly, she stopped. Something was wrong.
Someone’s here.
She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but the hair was standing up on her arms. Reaching for the door to get inside quickly, she noticed that the door wasn’t completely closed, and the wood around the lock had slivers sticking out like someone had taken a screwdriver to it.
What the hell?
Without thought, Kai pushed the door open and looked around from the doorway. Nothing seemed disturbed. She entered the room and closed the door behind her as silently as possible. The house was as quiet as a tomb. It was unnerving, and she still felt like there were eyes on her.
I need a weapon.
So, instead of turning and walking out the door, then calling the police, she made a move toward the fireplace and the ornamental tools. Before she got more than two steps, someone grabbed her from behind. Immediately, her hands went up to try and pry the arm from around her neck. Whoever had her in their grip was crushing her windpipe. Their arm was covered by a long-sleeved dress shirt, so her teeth and nails were ineffectual in biting or scratching the skin to try and cause pain. And now, the inability to get any air was ramping up her panic, and the edges of her vision were closing to pinpoints surrounded by blackness and stars.
Her brain suddenly flew back to Roatán and her fight training with Waters and the cast.
Go for the testicles, the instep, the eyes, and the nose to inflict the most immediate damage to try and escape.
With the last of the energy she possessed, Kai raised her booted foot and stamped down, grinding her heel viciously into her assailant’s instep. The intruder let out a pained yelp, his hold weakening on Kai, then threw her down on the floor. Her head hit the exposed wood arm of the antique couch as she spun out of his reach, bringing a wave of stars and nausea. Still gasping for air from her bruised neck, she tried to scramble away from the man, but she didn’t make it more than a foot before he was back on her by grabbing her hair at the scalp and pulling her head back hard.
The pain was excruciating as he used his hold to swing her head back toward the arm of the couch. A second hit, this one directly to her temple, caused Kai to black out.
What was probably only seconds later, she reopened her eyes, trying to shake the edges of unconsciousness free. Everything was blurry, including her first look at who had attacked her. Blurry or not, it was very clear who it was.
Stapleton!
“Craig?” she asked incredulously. Her fear ratcheted up exponentially as she watched him pull a gun from his pocket and aim it in her direction.
“Why couldn’t you just be like any other female director, Serrano? Any other woman I could have charmed into paying no attention to anything other than my dick. But not you. You were immune to everything I threw your way, making me resort to having to be clever.”
Pissed off now, her filter turned off completely. “If all of your actions were clever, you need to look up the word in the dictionary. I don’t think you understand what it means.” Her stomach began to roll.