As Kate Dalton, who runs a domestic violence shelter, waits for the police to arrive, Wayne Jessop is intent on killing his ex-wife...
“Please, Wayne,” Amanda moaned. “I'm sorry.”
Sorry? A flash of white anger seared Kate's brain. That was the most destructive word in a victim's vocabulary.
Wayne threw his head back and laughed. “I'll show you sorry.” He yanked a knife from the pocket of his jeans, flicked it open. “I'm gonna cut you so bad a freak show wouldn't take you. I'm gonna slice you once for every day I was inside.”
Pale sunlight flashed on the blade. Amanda sobbed. Fingers tearing at tender sprouting blades, she struggled to her hands and knees and crawled, head hanging low.
Twenty feet. Then six shallow steps. And five feet across the porch. It might as well be the distance to the moon. Kate strained her ears for the pulsing wail of a siren. Nothing. Her gaze swept the houses across the way. Blank windows. Closed doors.
Wayne strolled after Amanda, whistling between his teeth, tossing the knife from hand to hand. “Hey, I’ll bet you thought I forgot today is Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’ll carve a heart on your chest. Put our initials inside it.” He winked at Kate and laughed once more.
She’ll die while I stand by, following the rules.
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