I have to find my wife before it's too late.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Annabelle
Dennis takes a menacing step forward, and I retreat, keeping my eyes on him. "What are you doing here?"
"Giving you my regards in person." His face twists. "You fucking bitch. You ruined my life!"
Fear spikes, my heart hammering as I tell him, "You got fired because you stole the client list and the firm's positions to take them with you to a competitor."
Anger vibrates through him as he glares at me, moving closer. "And it's because of you I had to do that!"
I back away slowly, air rasping in and out. I'm alone, and I'm weaker and defenseless. Panic flutters in my belly. For all I know, Dennis has a gun.
My eyes flicker to his waistband, but I don't notice anything that could be a gun under his shirt.
"I told you to get your husband to back off," he says roughly. "But no. He had to get Gavin involved. I told you all I wanted was a fresh start!"
"But you lied. You didn't think that would stay a secret forever, did you?"
He isn't listening. "You wouldn't let me live my life because you're bitter about the way your parents died. Guess what? Your parents might as well have murdered mine. They were the dirty ones."
"My parents didn't deserve to be gunned down like animals!"
"They got exactly what they deserved! If your dad hadn't tricked mine into the Ponzi scheme, my family wouldn't have been destroyed. It's all your fault!" Tendons stick out from his neck as spittle flies from his mouth. "I should've fucking killed you when I had the chance, but no, I was too damn stupid to do it."
For a brief moment, I wonder if he was the one who pushed me down the stairs at Elizabeth's function, but that doesn't make any sense. He couldn't have gotten in, and it wasn't the kind of party you can just crash.
"Your cunt is too small a price to make up for what you've done to me."
I gasp. "You … ! You're the one."
"Oh yes. And you're so much less destructive when you are lying prone, unconscious. That should've been your permanent state, and I'm going to fix that now."
He lunges. I scuttle toward the front of the couch, putting it between us. He feints this way and that, but I manage to keep out of his reach. My pumps are cumbersome; I kick them off and manage to throw one at his face. He ducks, but the second one hits him on the top of his head.
"Bitch!" he bellows, his complexion crimson. He tries to hurdle the couch but catches a foot on the back. As he falls, I run toward the second level to the master bedroom.
Dennis comes after me. I barely make it. I wish I were far enough ahead to lock him out of the bedroom, but he's too quick. I throw a bottle of lotion I left on the nightstand at him, and that buys me seconds. I dash to the other end of the suite for the doorway leading directly to the pool.
I run across the terrace until I'm on the other side of the pool. The area surrounding the water is covered with textured tiles warm from the sun.
Dennis sneers. "So this is how you've been living. Fucking cunt. You don't deserve this." He flings his arm in the general direction of the penthouse. "This kind of life … It should've been mine! You stole it from me!"
I shake my head. "You have no idea what I've been through."
"I don't give a shit. You'll pay for what you've done." He picks up a half-empty bottle of scotch and a glass Elliot must've left on the poolside table and hurls them onto the hard tiles where I'm standing. I cover my head and cry out as they shatter on the ground around me. Bits of glass glint in the afternoon sun.
"Now where you gonna go?" he taunts as he makes his way toward me.
Sweat trickles down my skin. I know what it means if he gets a hold of me. Screw it. Cut feet are better than death-or worse.
Gritting my teeth, I leap to my left, trying to avoid the jagged pieces as much as possible. A few still dig into my bare soles, and I gasp, faltering for a moment. The pain is worse than I expected.
I start moving anyway. My blood smears the ground, and I know I won't be able to run for long. But it doesn't matter; Dennis jumps and catches my wrist roughly, yanking hard. I slip, and my head hits the edge of the pool. The world starts spinning.
God, I can't go like this. I am not letting a shithead like Dennis end me.
Dennis's foot connects with my ribs, and I gasp in pain and immediately curl up. He does it again, and this time I go with the brutal force and fall backward into the water.
I hold my breath and kick upward, but something heavy lands on me. Hands close around my neck; a knee presses against my back. I flail, my lungs desperate for air. My head and feet throb, and I see red unfurling around me as my vision starts to go dimmer and dimmer …