Page 69 of Hostile Witness
He swung a fist at her, and turning aside, Tia brought the flat of her hand up and nailed him from his chin to his forehead, ripping out stitches as she moved. He cried out in pain and yanked the rope around her neck tighter than before. “You bitch. You’ll pay for that.”
The growling upstairs morphed into the same otherworldly werewolf seething she’d heard during the traffic stop. But there was nothing Flynn could do for her now. Her survival was up to her. All of her preparation had been to fight a person, not a rope. She clawed at her neck, desperate for another fingerhold.
The man laughed and twisted the cord tighter. “You’re a little panicked, huh?” He took a quick look around. “Where’s yourfucking dog? He’s somewhere close by, because I can hear him.” Empowered now, he called out, “Oh, Flynn, where are you? I’m here to do your lady friend. Wanna watch?”
Tia’s thoughts faded as black spots invaded her vision and her knees buckled. The air all used up, she crumpled to the floor.
On a sharp inhale,her eyes fluttered open. She remembered passing out as a wave of panic slammed her heart into overdrive.
The alarm system blared in the background, and the end of the rope lay next to her. With stiff fingers, she pulled it close and frantically worked it loose, dragging in massive drafts of air as she slid the noose over her head.
Adrenaline pumped like gasoline through her body, and nausea threatened to kick in. Turning on her side, she caught the intruder facing the keypad and cursing. “You fucker, all I did was open the door so I could get something from the car.” He slammed his fist into the picture frame next to the pad while the silver glint of a gun sticking out of his pocket danced in the flashing emergency lights.
Tia crawled behind the cabinets and hauled herself to a shaky standing position. If she could disarm him, it would be an equal fight. Whatever Flynn was doing upstairs resounded through the walls. Poor dog must be beside himself locked in that room. Tia squinted at the distance. She’d never make it past the guy to run the stairs two at a time to unleash Flynn.
This was her battle to win or lose on her own.
She took a few seconds to strategize. Judging by the sounds coming from upstairs, Flynn had to be body-slamming her bedroom door in his effort to get free. On her third deep breath, Tia rushed the guy, grabbed his gun, and kicked his kneesout from under him. The tall man hit the floor with a groan. Considering the size and weight of the gun, it had to be a standard police-issue firearm. Could this have been stolen from Margie Plante’s home?
She spun around and ran toward the kitchen. Seconds later, his big hand latched around her ankle and yanked her down. Rolling over, Tia kicked his face.
His nose spurted blood. He let go of her ankle and staggered to his feet as she leaped up and ran.
Roaring like a wounded beast, he seized her hair with one hand and held her wrist with the gun in his other hand. Tia squeezed the trigger, firing a shot into his foot.
Enraged, he forced the gun toward her head. “You’re gonna get messed up, girl.”
Tia sent two more upward shots into the living-room ceiling in an effort to empty the gun of bullets. She headbutted him, but his strength and body weight pulled her toward him. Sucking in a huge breath, Tia launched into a crotch shot meant to disable, but he let go of her hair and jumped out of the way.
He laughed and sneered. “You think you’re the only one who knows self-defense?” He grappled for her hand holding the gun and shoved it at her face.
She ducked and pulled the trigger, blasting a bullet into a kitchen cabinet. The tinkle of shattering glassware echoed from inside. It didn’t matter. As long as she controlled the gun, she had an honest chance at survival. Four bullets spent. Two more to go.
But the man gripped her wrist and shoved it toward her head again, clawing at her fingers to release the firearm. Her back was to his front as they fought for control. Tia squeezed the trigger and sent a bullet through the kitchen window. Only one more.
He tore at her hair again. She jumped as high as she could, nailing him in the chin and knocking him off-balance. She ranlike hell. Her reprieve was temporary. The perp lifted a butcher knife from the block, smiled, and strode toward her.
Flynn didn’t sound as far away anymore. Had he escaped? She trained the gun at the guy’s heart and screamed, “Fass,Flynn,fass.” There had to be one more bullet in the gun. She couldn’t remember. Tia took a step backward.
There was an eerie screech of groaning metal close by as the man raised the knife and barreled toward her. But in a flurry of white percale, Flynn flew out of the laundry chute like a snarling avenging angel wearing a pink-rosebud sheet. With momentum behind him, he sprang from the washer, caught the perp by the throat with his jaw, and in one smooth strike knocked the intruder to the kitchen floor.
Stunned, Tia gawked at the heap of dog and man. A puddle of scarlet spread under them.
No, no, no.Still holding the gun, she rushed over and felt for a pulse on the man—nothing. Flynn was growling underneath the guy’s body. She grabbed hold of the man’s shirt and rolled him over. He’d fallen on the knife intended for her.
Flynn had his jaw firmly affixed to the man’s neck, as if he were waiting for the command to let go. He gave Tia an eye, and his tail started to wag.
Bursting into euphoric tears, Tia got down on her knees. “Aus, let go,Aus.” He growled once but obeyed, releasing the man. She held out her hands, coaxing her canine protector away from the invader with gentle praises. Flynn shimmied closer and whined.
“I know, buddy, I know. You’re so brave. You overcame your biggest fear and went down the laundry chute. I love you, Flynn. I’m so grateful.”
With Flynn’s left side covered in blood, he scrambled upright, licked her face, and barked.
An older neighbor whose name she didn’t even know rushed through the front door with a baseball bat in his hand. “I heard gunshots and called 911,” he panted. After taking one look at the carnage, he stepped back. “Are you all right, Miss?”
Tia nodded and ruffled Flynn’s fur. “Thanks to this guy. Do you have a phone I could borrow?”
He reached in his pocket and held up a phone. “That’s a big dog you’ve got there,” he commented with a hint of trepidation. He bent down and slid the phone across the floor to her. “It’s unlocked.”