arm. “I just want to talk.”
The hell with that.
Rubbing her aching elbow, she edged closer to the opening that would lead her into the dining room. She could run through there, to the living room and out the back door, then to her neighbor’s where she would call 911.
Randall moved further into the house, closing and locking the door behind him. The heavy clunk of the bolt sliding into place chilled her blood as her control over the situation slipped away.
“Why are you trying to run?” Randall snapped, stepping in front of her and using his frame to block her escape.
He was skinny, taller than her, but beanpole thin. Maybe if she caught him by surprise, shoved into him as hard as she could, she would knock him over and buy herself enough time to get away.
“I just need you to understand,” he said, almost pleading. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She reverted to her disappointed school teacher voice, doing her best to ignore the pounding of her heart. “I didn’t realize that was an option.”
“Well, you’re making me angry.” He sounded like a defensive child. She was certain the power had shifted back to her.
“I’m sorry, Randall, but this behavior is unacceptable. If you want to speak to me, forcing your way into my house is not the way to do it.”
“This is the only way. You got me expelled and if I leave you’ll have me arrested.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. It’s your fault. We’re supposed to be together now.”
“You’re one of my students--”
“Not anymore. You had me expelled, but it’s okay, I know why you did it. We couldn’t be together if I was in your class or going to the university. But now we can.”
The full impact of his delusion struck her as it never had before. How could she have confused this with a crush gone too far? It didn’t matter now. She had to get away from Randall.
She charged him, head down and forearms up, like a football player pushing toward the goal. Randall let out an airy “oomph!” as she forced him back and out of her way. Her dining room came into view just as he locked his hand around her arm and yanked her back.
"Bitch!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and shrill all at once.
His free hand closed into a fist and swung back. She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn't see him hit her. But she heard the flat thud as his fist connected. And felt the explosion on her cheek that made her ears ring and sent her tumbling backward.
He was on her in a second. Straddling her hips and tugging at her shirt.
“You’ll see. You’ll see,” he muttered over and over again, like a kind of mantra.
She tried shoving him off, slapping and punching at him. The reality of what was about to happen was sinking in, bringing with it the sick realization she was helplessness to stop him.
"Stop Randall, please. Stop!"
If he heard her, he made no indication. He yanked her shirt up and pulled her bra down, exposing her breasts. His groping hands on her flesh turned her stomach. She screamed, loud and high as she continued to struggle.
"Shut up!" He backhanded her, grinding her lips against her teeth. The sweet metallic flavor of her own blood filled her mouth. Her head swam, but she was still conscious enough to feel him pull at the zipper on her jeans.
Desperate, she reached out and seized his face with both her hands. Gritting her teeth, she gored both sides of his face with her fingernails. He howled and pulled away from her, giving her the chance to scurry out from under him and dart for the dining room.
For a moment, she thought she might be free, then Randall leapt at her, tackling her into the buffet, sending the ornaments decorating the surface crashing to the hardwood floor. Her shoulder struck the large gold-framed mirror hanging on the wall. The glass cracked with the impact. They rolled onto the floor, the heavy mirror landing on top of them, showering them both with shards of broken glass before falling aside.
She started to
The hell with that.
Rubbing her aching elbow, she edged closer to the opening that would lead her into the dining room. She could run through there, to the living room and out the back door, then to her neighbor’s where she would call 911.
Randall moved further into the house, closing and locking the door behind him. The heavy clunk of the bolt sliding into place chilled her blood as her control over the situation slipped away.
“Why are you trying to run?” Randall snapped, stepping in front of her and using his frame to block her escape.
He was skinny, taller than her, but beanpole thin. Maybe if she caught him by surprise, shoved into him as hard as she could, she would knock him over and buy herself enough time to get away.
“I just need you to understand,” he said, almost pleading. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She reverted to her disappointed school teacher voice, doing her best to ignore the pounding of her heart. “I didn’t realize that was an option.”
“Well, you’re making me angry.” He sounded like a defensive child. She was certain the power had shifted back to her.
“I’m sorry, Randall, but this behavior is unacceptable. If you want to speak to me, forcing your way into my house is not the way to do it.”
“This is the only way. You got me expelled and if I leave you’ll have me arrested.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. It’s your fault. We’re supposed to be together now.”
“You’re one of my students--”
“Not anymore. You had me expelled, but it’s okay, I know why you did it. We couldn’t be together if I was in your class or going to the university. But now we can.”
The full impact of his delusion struck her as it never had before. How could she have confused this with a crush gone too far? It didn’t matter now. She had to get away from Randall.
She charged him, head down and forearms up, like a football player pushing toward the goal. Randall let out an airy “oomph!” as she forced him back and out of her way. Her dining room came into view just as he locked his hand around her arm and yanked her back.
"Bitch!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and shrill all at once.
His free hand closed into a fist and swung back. She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn't see him hit her. But she heard the flat thud as his fist connected. And felt the explosion on her cheek that made her ears ring and sent her tumbling backward.
He was on her in a second. Straddling her hips and tugging at her shirt.
“You’ll see. You’ll see,” he muttered over and over again, like a kind of mantra.
She tried shoving him off, slapping and punching at him. The reality of what was about to happen was sinking in, bringing with it the sick realization she was helplessness to stop him.
"Stop Randall, please. Stop!"
If he heard her, he made no indication. He yanked her shirt up and pulled her bra down, exposing her breasts. His groping hands on her flesh turned her stomach. She screamed, loud and high as she continued to struggle.
"Shut up!" He backhanded her, grinding her lips against her teeth. The sweet metallic flavor of her own blood filled her mouth. Her head swam, but she was still conscious enough to feel him pull at the zipper on her jeans.
Desperate, she reached out and seized his face with both her hands. Gritting her teeth, she gored both sides of his face with her fingernails. He howled and pulled away from her, giving her the chance to scurry out from under him and dart for the dining room.
For a moment, she thought she might be free, then Randall leapt at her, tackling her into the buffet, sending the ornaments decorating the surface crashing to the hardwood floor. Her shoulder struck the large gold-framed mirror hanging on the wall. The glass cracked with the impact. They rolled onto the floor, the heavy mirror landing on top of them, showering them both with shards of broken glass before falling aside.
She started to
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