Thank you; thank you to everyone who reviewed. When I come home after a long day at school and I run to check my mail...and I see the bot@fanfiction.net e-mail, I jump! It's the greatest!!! So review!!

I'm also going to be a little shameless here and promote my new story, Doubles or Nothing. Read and review - you know the drill! (Though I noticed that Spot Conlon romances seem to do the best.......)

Anyway, on with the story!

Angie was numb all over.

She couldn't think.

So many shocks in twenty-four hours.....it's a wonder anyone could survive it.

She saw, blurrily, the outline of a large man coming toward her.

She saw, too, the doorknob twist close and the lock in the door click shut.

But then she felt the anger, burning, consuming her. The white-hot rage that sometimes overtook her, bringing everything back into focus in a matter of seconds.

The room was now full of dazzling color, but Angie didn't have time to notice it. She had to now focus on dealing with the greasy man who was almost on her.

Literally.

Angie backed up on the bed, scooting down towards the pillows at the head. She banged her head into the wall, and started babbling, stalling for time until she thought of what the hell to do.

"You really don't want to do this.......Danny, was it?" Angie said with a winning smile. "I mean, I'm not that pretty and I'm only a little girl! You wouldn't want to hurt a little girl, now, would you?" She said this a bit desperately now, when she saw the look Danny was giving her.

"Actually.......I would. You see, your 'mother' owes me a favor, and she did promise me a nice one, too." Danny put a grimy hairy hand on Angie's leg and sat the on bed. He was huge, over six feet, with oily black hair and muscle all over.

Angie looked at the hand, so dark against her light blue skirt, with acute revulsion. All danger aside, she took a moment to ask God why He thought fit to created such horrid people.

But the hand reminded her of something....at least where it was......

She still had her pocketknife in her skirt.

Angie never traveled without it. Race had given it to her, for the times he "wasn't able ta take ceah of you'se." It was pretty, with a carved wooden handle and a clever switch that allowed her to snap it open in record time.

Record time she was going to need now.

And if there was only a way to distract this big disgusting thug enough to get him where she wanted him.......

She stretched her arm out in defeat. "OK, you got me." Angie said tiredly. "I can't fight you. Your twice my size. So just get it over with, alright?" She squeezed her eyes shut and moved her hands down her body, as if to invite Danny to do what he wanted.

The man didn't waste a second. He moved over Angie's prostrate body, leaning his hands on either side of her shoulders. His face was so close.....

Of course, Angie saw none of it. She just felt his hot reeking breath, and the pressure of his weight over her. Her hands were busy, trying to retriever her knife and snap it open without him noticing anything.

Finally, her hands touched the smooth wood, and in a second she had the knife in it's deadly, useful position. Angie eyes flew open just in time to see Danny's face lower to kiss her.

With one quick thrust, she shoved the knife deep into his chest, the blood spilling over both of them.

Danny's eyes widened in pain.

He gurgled a bit, clutching the weapon embedded in his chest. He collapsed on Angie, who pushed him off her, onto the floor. The brute landed with a dull thud.

Angie sat up and saw the scarlet puddle over everything - the bed, Danny, herself. She felt close to vomiting at the sensation of another's lifeblood leaking out of his body.

But then she remembered why she had done it, and the anger came back in full force, along with the adrenaline. She got up and stood over Danny's jerking body, the blood bubbling out of his mouth.

"That was for Jon." She kicked him viscously. Danny's body jumped from the blow.

He was dying, Angie knew. She might not have been a doctor, but she knew where the heart was. She knife was sticking straight out of the man's left side.

The blood continued to flow, unabated, for another two minutes, while Angie watched her tormentor die.

She felt cruel, and heartless.

Angie knew this was just what the bastard deserved. Who knew how many others he had killed besides Jon? But still, killing wasn't in her nature.

Which was more than she could say for the bitch downstairs that was Mrs. Ida March.

When Angie was sure Danny was dead, she removed the knife from his chest and cleaned it off on the bedspread. She shined it, almost compulsively, until the metal was visible once again.

Only then did she let the tears flow.

They fell down her cheeks, in a fast stream, harder then when she had mourned for Jon.

Harder even, then when she had begged for help from Cat that night.

Angie looked around the room and stepped over Danny's body to the door. No matter what it took, this would be the last time her old home would be graced with her presence.

Now it was time to deal with her 'mother', and Angie ran downstairs and into the drawing room.

She knew Ida would be there. Every day Ida would needlepoint, some biblical saying that was ludicrously hypocritical coming from the woman's bloodied hands.

Sure enough, Ida was sitting there, by the window in the afternoon light. She was stitching another sampler, and pricked her finger in shock when she saw Angie standing in the doorway, covered in blood.

Before Ida had a chance to open her mouth, Angie had crossed the room and pointed the tip of the knife at her throat. The adrenaline was surging thought Angie's bloodstream, making her deadly calm and reckless all at the same time.

"Who are you?" Angie hissed, looking demonic with an outfit of blood and her scar shining bright red.

"Angie, dear, put the knife away." Ida said with a nervous laugh. "We don't want anyone to get hurt now, do w-"

Her words died in her throat when the tip of the knife pressed into her neck, raising a dot of crimson. She looked up at the girl in front of her in shock.

"Who are you? This is the last time I ask before I slit your throat." Angie stated simply, her eyes green fireballs. She had no intention of killing another person - one was enough for her, thank you.

But Ida didn't know that, and it showed.

"Where did all the blood come fr-" The dot of crimson grew as Angie pressed harder.

"Answer my question. NOW." Angie was enraged. This woman couldn't even stop thinking about her own interests, even when a knife was at her throat.

"I'm your aunt, like I said before." Ida said hastily. "Your mother died in childbirth. Your father married me soon after my sister died. He had always fancied me, anyway." Ida lifted her head proudly, the line of blood on her white throat dripping down her neck.

"Why?" Angie asked, the question that had hovered on her lips for so long. "Why do you hate me so?"

"Why do you think, you stupid girl?" Ida said angrily. "You are my sister's child. Of course I hate you. My sister was always the perfect one, marrying the great Yankee Mr. March, while her sister got nobody. I was always in her shadow.....and her husband, even after he married me, spent all his love on you......." Selfish tears filled her eyes. "How could I not hate you? You, with no looks or charm, still managed to remind me every day what I could never be......"

"I can't believe this." Angie said with a mirthless laugh. "This entire time I was thinking it must have been something terrible I did for you to make my childhood so miserable........and the whole time it was some crazy woman's childhood jealousies." She stopped thoughtfully. "Then again, I suppose I should be more upset......" Her face darkened again when looked back at Ida.

"If you ever come near me or anyone I love again, I will not hesitate to slice that lovely throat of yours." Angie whispered menacingly. "Danny is dead now. This blood you see on my clothing is not mine......not a drop of it, I'm sorry to say. Do I make myself clear......Ida?" She pressed the knife even harder.

"Crystal." Ida whispered back, her green eyes glittering in anger and shame.

"Good. I'm leaving now, and I don't want to see you ever again." Angie snapped the knife closed and dropped it into her pocket. Turning on her heel, she walked to the door, her back facing Ida.

The wall next to her head suddenly exploded with glass.

Angie whirled and dogged another vase that came hurtling at her head. She snapped her head back up and saw Ida, smirking, reaching for a marble paperweight.

At this distance she couldn't miss.

The door was too far away for Angie to run out.

There was nothing left to do........

Angie, with a swiftness born of desperation, snatched the knife out of her pocket, wrenched out the blade, and threw it.

At this distance, she couldn't miss.

Angie ran out of her house before she could watch another person die that day.