The ex-cop’s massive fist caught me in the face as my body slammed into O’Conner’s side. I saw stars, but the momentum of my action sent the gunman back into the side of a chair. We flipped over the top of the chair amid a crash of broken wood and scattered porcelain figurines. While my hand remained tightly gripped around the barrel of the gun, O’Conner used his size to swing himself over me. His ruthless expression suddenly gave off a slight grin as he twisted the handle of the revolver, then slowly forced the pistol closer to my head. I tried kicking up with my leg, but his grin turned to a sneer as his other hand penned my free forearm to the floor. O’Conner knew he had me. It was only a matter of time before the barrel of his gun lined up with my skull.
Desperately, I squirmed around, but his strength and weight were too much for me. Eyeing the nearby coffee table, I noticed there was nothing to use against the ex-cop, even if I broke free. My hand wrapped around the barrel shook as I knew I was losing. In those frantic seconds, I kept hoping, while realizing death was coming quickly.
I heard a hollow thud. Just before a splash of hot water landed on my face, O’Conner’s eyes rolled back. Then I felt his full weight when he collapsed on top of me. However, by this time, I’m yelling in pain while trying to rub my sleeve over my closed eyes. A tug pulled at my sleeve, and I finally saw Adele hovering over me.
“Come on, get up!” she desperately urged me to my feet.
Using her strength, I got to my knees, grabbing away the revolver from the semi-conscious O’Conner who rolled back and forth with his head in his hands.
Adele pulled on my jacket and finally I stood, using her shoulder to keep steady. The punch from O’Conner did more damage than I realized as I scanned the room. I noticed Lees was missing. Seeing my scowl, Adele explained as she pushed me toward the open garden door.
“He ran off while you were fighting O’Conner. He’s injured.”
Nodding, I hurried along as fast as my wobbly legs could take me. Adele still held on to the tea kettle while my hand held the revolver. I glance back to see O’Conner shaking his head while trying to get to his feet. A momentary thought came to me.
I should stop and kill that bastard!
Still, I kept moving, telling myself the thought probably came from Miss Wonderful. At least I wanted to believe that. Otherwise, it sounds like I’m killing for the fun of it, turning into one sick bastard with no morality left.
We hurried into the garden, pushing past the water spurting from the massive fountain and a row of waist high bushes. A shot rang out, and I saw O’Conner’s silhouette in the open door of the house.
“Damn, how did he get a gun?”
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