| |
Kate dug her fingers into the carpet, fighting to get closer to the screwdriver, but she was still too far to grab it. She wriggled and fought with Eddie for a couple of seconds, which cost her another burning slap across her face, but it was enough to get the screwdriver’s handle into her grip, blade down.
Eddie’s body, now lowered onto hers, crushed her, cutting her oxygen. She felt his breath, hot on her cheek, a faint scent of wine grazing her nose.
Kate’s strength waned, yet she mustered what little she had left. Releasing a high-pitched howl, she raised her arm and jammed the screwdriver into the side of Eddie’s neck. It slid in easier than she’d thought, but stopped short after hitting something solid. His Adam’s apple, she presumed. Blood sprayed out of the wound as Eddie’s head jerked up, his eyes bulging. His mouth opened to scream, but no sound emerged. His hand instinctively reached for his neck, as he pulled himself up from Kate’s chest.
Kate coughed from the release of his weight. Crimson streams of blood were sprayed across her bare chest, bra and unbuttoned white blouse. She scrambled to push Eddie from her lap. Her heart pounded in her chest and her cheek ached and throbbed. She watched Eddie, while eyeing the gun a few feet away. He didn’t fight her. He seemed uncertain as to what had just happened, a confused and twisted look wrestling across his face.
He croaked and gagged as he fought with the screwdriver. He finally yanked it out with a howling shriek. Kate gasped, backing away, watching. Blood oozed between his fingers as he held the wound tight with both hands, plugging the flow, as gurgling and whizzing sounds eked from the new opening in his neck.
Eddie tried to stand, but ended up spinning in a half-circle before falling to his knees in the center of the bedroom. Kate fell on the gun, fumbling to get a steady grip. When she did, she turned and pointed it at Eddie.
“Kate. What are you doing?” Dark blood dripped from Eddie’s mouth and spattered across his face as he spoke.
Kate watched him try to crawl toward her. Holding the gun as steady as she could, she backed herself up to the closed door as he continued toward her. He grabbed at her leg and she kicked his hand.
“Please. Kate ... I...” Each word gurgled, as he drowned in his own fluids. He blinked and raised his bloody hand in a pleading gesture. The gun began to quiver in Kate’s hands. Eddie reached again. She kicked his hand again.
“You ...” Her voice cracked. “You killed Marco and Renzo—my baby boy!”
“Kate. I ... I thought we could ....”
She laughed at his nonsense and screamed at him. “I wish I’d never met you! You killed my entire purpose for being alive! My family!”
As she sobbed, the tears spilled down her bruised and swollen face, her hair knotted and twisted about.
Eddie, now curled into a ball on the floor holding his neck, struggled to speak. “Kate, I swear. You gotta’ believe me. Renzo was not part of the plan.”
Kate’s eyes darkened and she raised the gun higher, pointing it stronger in Eddie’s direction.
“Don’t!” She cried, shaking her head. “Don’t talk to me about my son like he was some project!” She heard the rising and cracking hysteria in her voice. “I don’t want to hear about your ‘plan.’ Stop. Just stop ... talking ... about my family. You killed them. And when you killed them ...,” she sniffled, “...you killed me. Don’t you understand?”
“Kate .... Please.”
“You killed me, too,” she whispered.
Kate tightened her grip on the gun and squeezed the trigger.
