Page 128 of Healed Heart

Angie

“Jason, what the fuck?”Henry’s voice comes from the hallway.

I get to my feet.“Something’s wrong.”

Tabitha frowns.“You think so?”

I take a step toward the entryway, but then the tinkling of breaking glass.

I turn around.Tabitha’s dropped her glass.Her face is white as a sheet.

“Tabitha.What’s wrong?”

She shakily raises a hand and points out the back door toward Jason’s townhome.

And I see him.

Ralph.

He’s limping across the property, his face still nearly unrecognizable underneath the purple bruises, dried blood streaked from his nose, and swollen eyes.But he’s moving too fast for a man that broken.

He shoves open my small gate.Tillie is outside, barking like crazy at him.He kicks her to the side.

I drop my jaw.“You bastard!”

Tillie yelps and skids into the picnic table but pops right back up, hackles raised and barking like mad.

Ralph barrels through the sliding glass door into the kitchen nook, turning on me.“Your boyfriend’s been sniffing around, Angie.Getting too curious.”He advances on me.

And I stand there, frozen.

“Ralph, stop, please.”Tabitha steps in front of me.

He lunges at her.

Thank God for Tabitha.Maybe sheismy bestie.I grab a heavy ceramic mug from the kitchen counter and hurl it at his head.It shatters against his temple, and he stumbles.

But he doesn’t go down.

Tabitha kicks a kitchen chair at Ralph, buying us a second.I yank open a drawer and grab the first thing I see—tongs.Not ideal.

He charges again.I stab the tongs at his face.He flinches, and Tabitha slams the refrigerator door into his side.

“It’s over, Ralph!You’re going to jail for a long, long time.”

He spits out a wad of blood onto my kitchen tiles and grins.“You don’t get it, do you?I don’t care if it’s over for me.It probably is.But I can make sure that you and your precious Dr.Lansing don’t see the light of another fucking day.”He lunges toward me again.

All three of us collide, crashing into the island.His elbow clips my jaw, and stars explode behind my eyes.

He grabs a kitchen knife from the block.

“Okay.”I raise my hands.“Okay, Ralph, just?—”

“Angie!”Henry’s voice.Then, “Get down!”

I drop instinctively as Henry tackles Ralph from behind.The knife clatters across the floor.Ralph’s forehead hits the edge of the kitchen counter, opening a wide gash.Blood gushes everywhere.

He’s not moving.