“You know you can’t be here,” I said to Phyllis, moving toward the sink so when she looked at me, her back was to the door the kids had just stepped out of. I filled a water glass just to keep her attention on me and draw this out.
“I’ve been very patient,” she said, “I let the courts handle things. I let the system run its course. But look where that’s gotten us.” She scanned the house, her eyes hard. “You, living like a scared little mouse. Teaching your children to be afraid. To reject their real family.”
“I’m not hiding,” I growled, the water in my glass trembling along with my hand. “And don’t say a word about my children.”
“They are my blood.”
And that fact pained me every damn day. “They are my kids.”
“You are replaceable,” she said softly, running her fingertips over the tabletop, reminding me that the gun was within her reach.
My heart slammed against my ribs, my mind racing, at a loss for how to handle this, how to get out of it unscathed.
“Women like you love to make yourselves the victim, weaponize your suffering.”
My old instincts rose up. The persistent urge to explain, to justify, to prove myself.
Instead I crushed them. I owed this woman nothing.
“Leave.” My hand was shaking hard enough to cause some of the water to spill over the rim of the glass.
“I don’t think you understand what’s going to happen,” she said, her demeanor unnervingly calm. “My son may not be free today, but he will be soon enough. In a matter of months, he’ll leave that godforsaken place.”
“No,” I said. “He’s being prosecuted for violating the restraining order and for witness intimidation. He’s going to get more time added to his sentence.”
She waved me off. “He’s getting out soon,” she said, the only sign of her distress a slight flare of her nostrils. “And when he does, he will need his children. And a clean slate.” She looked from the gun to me again. “You complicate that.” The cruel smile that spread across her face made my blood chill. “You don’t get to keep them, Celine. You don’t get to win.”
That thread was enough to lift the fog of fear shrouding me. My body hummed with fury, burning off the last of my hesitation. “You will leave this house and nevercome back.”
“Oh, I will leave this house when I’m ready,” she mused. “But you won’t. You have to be punished. You destroyed a good man. You destroyed our family. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”
I gripped my glass and covertly scanned the area near me, weighing my options.
“We were demoted at the club. To a golf only membership.” By the horror in her tone, one would think it was a war crime instead of a natural consequence for raising a sociopathic abuser. “Because of this… scandal!”
There was no reasoning with her, no calmly defusing the situation. And I was sick and tired of being the victim. She had walked in here, into my home, because she believed I was weak. She believed that I couldn’t fight back.
The joke was on her.
Her hand was still on the table, lingering inches from the revolver.
I had to move fast. All the training I’d done had to be good for something.
So I snapped into action, throwing my water in her face, then lunging at her as she reached for the gun.
I made contact, the force almost knocking the wind out of me, and grabbed for the gun.
She got to it first, but I was half a second behind, clutching for the weapon, my hands on top of hers. I stomped on her ballet-flat-clad foot and she jerked, whipping the revolver upward.
I struggled to pull it out of her grasp. The woman was strong. I’d give her that. With all the strength I had, I yanked violently.
A sharp crack ripped through the air, making my body shudder and my blood run cold.
Plaster rained down from the ceiling, and when Phyllis looked up at it in shock, I took my chance and snatched the gun from her. It fell to the floor, and instinctively, I kicked it, sending it skittering across the kitchen floor toward Julian’s broken Lego van.
“You little bitch.” She swung at me, her fist connecting with my jaw. My head snapped back on impact, but I kept my footing. I’d attended too many self-defense classes to be taken out by an old lady punch.
I got low and led with my shoulder, tackling her and using my body weight to knock her down. On the floor, I grabbed at her arms, using every ounce of energy I had to stop her from thrashing and throwing her knee into my stomach.