Jude…
I screeched as Ethan approached me again—waving the pocketknife at his face as he closed in on me. I eyed the gun that was sitting between us on the bed warily as he looked down at it at the same time. He was not touching me! Absolutely no way, nuh uh, I don't think so! It was just pure luck I had remembered the knife when he had backed me up against the wall earlier. He now sported a nice little souvenir from me across his arm, and as I watched it bleed, I couldn't help but hope it would leave a scar—an ugly, nasty reminder of how he shouldn't ever consider messing with me again.
"Back off, Ethan." I shouted as he laughed before lunging for the bed. I anticipated his movements and managed to wrap my hands around the handle of the pistol just before he landed next to it. Jerking it up, I held it waveringly toward his face as I tried not to panic. I wonder what he would do if he knew I had no idea how to even use the thing. I needed to make a mental note to myself reminding me to learn once I got out of this place. Ethan didn't seem to notice my hesitation as he backed away with a cold, calculating look glinting from his eyes.
"The roles are reversed now, aren't they Ethan? Care to share with me any deep, personal issues before I send you straight to hell where you belong?" I asked him scathingly as we circled each other in the diminutive living room. He just smirked at me.
"You don't have the guts to do anything, Jude, I can see your hand shaking for God's sake." Ethan mused as I tried to steady my arm before cocking the gun experimentally only to smile when I heard something click into place. That had to be good right?
"Just hand me back the gun, Jude. Before you hurt yourself." Ethan cooed soothingly as I rolled my eyes up at him. Yeah, right. How stupid did he think I was?
"Believe it or not, despite my blonde hair roots, I still own most of my brain cells, Ethan. Go bark that message somewhere else." I replied haughtily as I pressed a finger up against the metal trigger. Ethan watched me nervously as I moved. The fact that I was shaking actually made me more dangerous for him because he couldn't be sure if my finger would slip. God, where was Tommy? And why did it matter? I had things under control, right? Ethan moved and I jerked involuntarily as he ducked as if afraid I'd shoot him on accident. I just laughed crazily.
"Not afraid, are you Ethan?" I asked him sardonically as he glared at me from the floor.
"You'll pay for this, Jude." Ethan growled as I heard the sound of footsteps outside the apartment door. I felt my heart jump into my throat. Could it be?
"Jude!" I heard Tommy yell suddenly from outside as I almost weeped from relief. The door jiggled and I looked at it expectantly. Ethan took that split moment of distraction to lunge at me quickly, knocking me to the floor as I fought desperately for the gun—grasping its handle just as it slipped out of my reach. There I had it.
I felt Ethan bite my shoulder and I screamed as I kicked at him. God, he had to let me go! He dug his nails into my back and I screamed again as I heard Tommy kick frantically at the door. I was not going to let Ethan win! I refused. Grasping the gun firmly, I turned around—flopping onto my back as I kicked up at him furiously. I caught him in the stomach and he grunted. I kicked again as he managed to grab my arms—pulling at it as he tried to get me to release the pistol. The door started to splinter as we fought. And then the gun went off.
