“Crystal—"
She shoves the glass against my mouth so hard my lip splits open. Some of the questionable liquid splashes into my mouth. Note to self: Be less detailed in your stories. No one really needs to know how to drug another person.
“I got this idea from you, you know.”
I do know, and I’m not going to have the same outcome as the saps in my book. I jerk my head forward, bashing it into Crystal’s skull. She cries out, dropping her glass. The trash swallows it up. I rock the chair back and forth until it tips over. Crystal’s fatal mistake here is tying me to a wooden chair. A metal one and I wouldn’t have been able to break the legs off. A metal one and I might still have been kept captive, but the chair breaks, freeing my legs. I bound to my feet at the same moment she rushes forward, her knife high in the air.
“Corby!” shouts Glory, appearing from behind Crystal. Crystal whirls around, and the knife slices toward Glory. I let out a roar, lower my shoulder, and rush forward, knocking Crystal to the ground. A hot pain spears my shoulder, and blood starts to bubble around where the chef’s knife found its way into my muscle.
Chapter Twenty
Glory
“I can’t leave you alone for two seconds!” I shout as I grab the woman by the back of the head, pulling her by the hair from under Corby. She’s already screaming, and she’s not the one that’s been stabbed. No, that’s my man she just shoved a knife into. I’m starting to think I’m inside of one of Corby’s novels.
She swings her arms as I pull her across the room a good five feet. I also drag a pile of garbage with her. The inside of this house is straight out of an episode of that TV show, Hoarders.
I had no idea when I wished for more news in Cherry Falls this is what I would get. I was thinking of something more white collar or maybe that Lily at the local bakery was using box mix, and all the goodies weren’t made from scratch. But every single thing in her sweet shop is made from scratch.
“He’s mine, you homewrecker!” She’s still swinging her arms and kicking her legs. She keeps blinking wildly. I’m guessing the headbutt that Corby gave her is still having some lingering effects.
“I had it under control.” Corby sits up. Blood starts to soak his shirt. I try not to focus on it. I need to get the crazy woman under control. The cops should be here any second.
When crazy here didn’t show up to meet the cops like Willow overheard, I knew something was up. I could feel it. But I never would have guessed someone would go to this extreme to get at Corby.
I had rushed back to Corby’s to see that not only was he gone but so were the paparazzi. I’m guessing his agent had something to do with the paparazzi. When I texted him and he didn't respond, I rushed over to Mark’s. The whole way I was thinking I was nuts but kept telling myself it wouldn't hurt to check there.
I’d sent a text to Sheriff Larson when I got here and saw what was happening. It was torture watching her swing the knife around, but I waited. I tried to bide my time, hoping the sheriff would get here before she pulled anything too crazy. That was until she tried to make him drink something. That was the moment I knew I couldn’t hold off any longer.
For all I knew, this was some freaky cult shit and she was going to make him and the young boy drink the Kool-Aid before she finished herself off. Thank God that little boy is still upstairs. I’m sure he’s traumatized enough at this point. I’m glad that at least he was spared some of the craziness.
I wasn't really surprised when I saw it was Crystal. She was all over Corby’s fan pages rambling about crazy shit. She was one of the people I went ahead and ran through my background check. She doesn't have any children, so I’m not sure who the boy belongs to. This also isn't her first psychotic break, either. She has a history of being delusional.
“Crystal, you’re going to hurt yourself. Knock it off!” I shout as loud as I can. I know she stabbed Corby, but I don’t want any harm to come to her. She’s mentally not well and needs help. To my surprise, she actually stops. I watch as Corby gets to his feet.
“You’re hurt.” She looks up at him, concerned. The knife is still sticking out of his shoulder.
“Don’t!” I shout when he pulls it out and tosses it toward one of the bigger piles of trash. “If you don’t die, I’m going to kill you.” I can already hear the sounds of the sirens growing closer. I let my hold on her hair go. Crystal is now sobbing. I want to hate her, I really do, but all I feel is sorry for her.