I am not the type of person who will just lie down and take it.
I am not the type of person who will accept their fate and concede to it.
I will fight so long as there is breath left in my body.
I fend off his hold just enough to release my left hand from his grip. Then I claw at his face, and my nails dig into his flesh.
He growls in pain. When he looks at me again, I can see that I’ve let my mark.
It looks like a feral animal has clawed him, leaving fresh red streaks of blood along his face.
Then my eyes find his and I know that I’ve crossed the line and pushed him over the edge.
I can see murder in his eyes.
Oh, God… he’s going to kill me in front of my son.
The scream is tunneling its way out of my throat when I see something move just behind the massive man. He seems to notice we’re not alone at the same time.
But he’s too slow. Too preoccupied.
So I see the shiny dagger’s blade, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t even see the knife before it slashes across his throat. It cuts through his flesh like butter, drenching me in a spray of blood.
And then he slumps to the ground, gurgling his way to death.
I blink away the droplets of blood and push myself off the table.
The person holding the knife killed the man who came to hurt me.
But what does she want?