She managed to slide down to her knees, holding onto the arm of the couch with her good hand. Everything hurt. God, it hurt. She had to take shallow breathes as she shook with agony.
“Hurry up!” Luther yelled, waving the gun around. “I don’t know when that bastard will be back.”
Hopefully soon. Please be soon.
She pushed aside the end table then tugged at the floor. “It’s in here.”
Oh no.
How had she forgotten that she’d need to get into the safe? What was the code? She had no idea. A whimper escaped.
“What is it? Open the fucking safe!” Luther screeched.
She winced. His yelling wasn’t helping her think. With a shaking hand, hoping she was right she input six numbers into the office safe.
The date of Jacqui’s death.
To her shock, a green light flashed and she grabbed the handle, pulling the door open. Then she reached in and heaved at the bag of cash. It was so heavy that by the time she managed to get it out, her breath was sawing in and out of her lungs and those black dots had returned. She sat back, shaking and pointed to the bag.
“In there.”
“Open it,” Luther told her, watching her suspiciously.
It took her a few attempts to pull down the zipper, but she finally managed it. Luther went to his knees, greed lighting up his face as he took in the cash.
Counterfeit cash.
But hopefully, he didn’t look too closely.
As he was distracted, staring at the money, she spotted the woman creeping into the room. She had a metal poker that usually sat on a stand beside the log fireplace in her hand.
Millie tried not to watch her, not to tense up as she tip-toed into the room and raised the poker.
Luther was reaching into the bag when the woman got close enough to swing. Then he must have sensed something because he turned. “What the fuck!”
But as he swung around a ball of fluff attacked with a growl, distracting him from shooting and the woman swung the poker at his head. It landed with a sickening crunch. Millie stared on in shock as Luther stilled. For a moment, she thought the woman hadn’t hit him hard enough. Then he rolled to the side, his eyes drifting closed.
Millie watched for a moment, hardly believing her eyes. Mr. Fluffy stood there, his hackles raised, snarling at the man on the floor. She forced herself to scramble over to grab the gun. She got it in her good hand as the other woman just stared down at Luther, a blank look on her face.
“Mr. Fluffy!” she cried out as the puppy came over to her, trying to lick her face, his tail wagging. “You did so good. Good boy. My good boy.”
“I got him,” the woman said.
“You got him. You got him. Everything’s going to be okay, now. I’m going to call my Daddy. He’ll come. Everything’s okay,” Millie rambled.
“I got him. He can’t hurt me anymore.”
“No, he can’t.”
M
illie tried to stand, crying out in frustration as her legs wouldn’t work.
“Hack! Oh God, where’s Hack?”
“The other man? I think he’s still outside. I think he’s dead.”
“No, no, no, I need to check on him. I need to call Daddy. Oh no.” She tried to stand and slipped onto her bottom once more with a pained cry.