Chapter Eight

"Don't touch me," Jaime pleaded, trying to roll away from the man who looked like her husband but had turned into someone alien and frightening.

"Now, what kind of attitude is that?" Michael asked smoothly, stretching out beside her on the bed. He propped his head up with one elbow and grinned at Jaime. He reached over and ran one finger down the side of her face, lingering at her collarbone, taunting her.

"Please, Michael..."

"Begging for it, huh? I like that. Maybe I'll -" His thought was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. "They'll go away," he said, kissing her.

The ring turned to an insistent pounding on the door, and Rudy's voice shouted "Michael – open up!"

"Dammit!" Michael snapped. "What does he want? Oh well...he'll give up eventually." Jaime tried to squirm away from him as he leaned over her again, but she was trapped. The pounding at the door grew louder.

"Jaime?" Rudy called. "Are you in there?"

Michael clamped a hand over his wife's mouth. "Don't you make a sound," he cautioned.

"Open the door, Michael!" Rudy demanded.

"Everything's fine, Rudy!" Michael yelled back. "Just go away."

"Alright, will you talk to me on the phone?" Rudy shouted. He returned to his car and dialed the number on his car phone.

Michael reached under the bed where he'd hidden the telephone and plugged it back into the wall. Immediately, it began to ring. With one hand still tightly gripping Jaime's chin and pinning her mouth shut, he picked up the receiver. Jaime listened intently, grateful that at least her ear still worked.

"Take whoever you brought with you and get out of here," Michael said with quiet anger.

"I can't do that, Michael," Rudy replied, "until I know Jaime is safe."

"She's fine. We're both fine, okay?"

"I need you to put her on the phone," Rudy insisted.

Michael buried the receiver in the pillow and whispered so that only Jaime could hear him. "Tell him you're alright and then get the hell off the phone," he ordered. "You don't want this to get any uglier." He put the receiver to Jaime's face and glared threateningly at her. The hand that had been clamped over her mouth moved ominously to her throat.

"Rudy?" she began, trying to keep her voice steady but failing miserably.

"Honey, are you alright? Has he hurt you?"

"No....I – I'm okay..."

Michael tore the phone away from her. "Are you happy now?" he snarled at Rudy.

"I need you to come to the door, Michael," Rudy said evenly. "The police are on their way."

"Call them off!"

"It's too late. Just come to the door and let's end this before anyone gets hurt," Rudy pleaded.

"Forget it. If I see one cop – or even hear one siren – I swear....I'll kill her."

Jaime tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her with a painfully tight grip. She swung her left arm up and managed to hit him on the side of his head. Growling with anger, he slapped her full-on in the face, pinned her one good arm to the mattress and drew his hand back into a fist, preparing to strike another blow. Jaime turned her head and Michael's fist slammed into the headboard, barely missing her. As she continued to move in any way she could manage, trying to duck from his enraged assault, she heard footsteps outside the house...and then a whispered voice. It was Steve.

"Jaime, if you can hear me, turn away from the window. Bury your face in the pillow if you can. I'm coming in."

Another furious blow from Michael's fist grazed her forehead as Jaime flailed and rolled, burying her face the best she could. Suddenly, the window glass shattered – with shards flying over the bed. Michael yelled in pain and before he could react further Steve sailed through the window, pulled him off of Jaime and threw him roughly to the floor.

Steve picked up the dangling phone receiver, where Rudy waited on the other end. "C'mon in," he told the doctor. "Jaime needs your help." Steve looked down to where Michael was lying amidst all of the broken glass and the sharp chunks of wooden window frame. "I don't give a damn what you do about him."

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