Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

Kimberley heard footsteps behind her, forcing her to look as she wasn’t sure if there were one or two threats in the hallway. Nicole wasn’t thinking clearly. Her mom walked toward her or through her to David, she wasn’t sure. She was still holding Jessica’s stuffed elephant.

Thumb snap. Rock forward. Pull. Muscle memory had served her wrong this time. The gun stayed in its holster.

The box was knocked to the ground, the .38 caliber and cellphone spilling out. A hand was on her shoulders, throwing her backward into Nicole. She landed on top of her. Nicole cried out. Kimberley scrambled to her feet as David reached down for the gun. She leaped at him, tackling him to the ground, the gun slipping out of his hands. She straddled his chest, trying to hold him down, but he had over a hundred pounds on her, real strength that came from farming. He lifted her up cleanly, tossing her forward onto the floor, the .38 caliber just a foot in front of her. She hadn’t checked to see if it was loaded. She reached for it; she was just short of it. She felt big hands wrap entirely around one of her ankles. Kimberley turned her head, flipping on her back instinctively. It was better to be on your back than on your stomach. She kicked as hard and as wild as she could. David yanked her toward him. She slid across the floor, her utility belt scraping the wood. He stepped over her, his focus lasered on the gun. Nicole huddled in the corner of the hall, crying, telling them to stop. Kimberley stood once again. She went after him as she went for her Glock. Thumb snap. Rock. Fuck.

Two large steps put her right behind him. She yanked on his overalls, pulling him back again. She reeled back her fist, sending it forward into the side of his head. He groaned, but it did nothing to stop him. David wrapped his hand in her hair, twisting it, and whipped her body into the wall, the drywall immediately giving out, crumbling and splitting in several areas.: an imprint of her left behind. Kimberley fell to the ground just as David bent down to pick up the gun.

She reached down for her trusty Glock again. Thumb snap. Rock. Pivot guard. It was free from its holster. David turned with the 38-caliber in hand. Kimberley quickly unclicked the safety and raised the gun.

Two gunshots rang out.

Nicole screamed in horror.

34

Nicole crawled down the hallway with the elephant in hand toward David, who was lying on the ground, writhing in pain. A pool of blood around his head and arm. She screamed and cried, trying to comfort him.

Kimberley stood up quickly, her Glock still aimed at David. She walked to him, kicking the .38 caliber further away from where it lay just a foot above his head. The first gunshot had come from Kimberley’s gun, hitting David in the arm, knocking the hand that was holding the .38 caliber to his head a few inches away. When the second shot fired, it nicked the top corner of his head. Turning a fatal shot into a flesh wound. David had turned the gun on himself, trying to take the easy way out of this. Shame and guilt had caught up with him.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” Nicole said, pressing down on the bullet wound on his arm and running her hand over his forehead.

David stayed as still as possible, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as if he had come face to face with his own God. His body twitched even though every muscle in his body was clenching. Kimberley holstered her gun and pulled out her cell phone, dialing Sam.

He answered on the first ring.

“Where are you? I’ve got Henry Colton here.”

“Let him go.”

“What?”

“We’ve got a GSW. I need an ambulance at my house right now,” Kimberley said, ending the call.

She placed the phone in her utility belt, turning back to look at her mother and David. Nicole was still trying to comfort him as if he had been in a car accident and not in a scuffle with her daughter over a gun that he used to murder the woman he was cheating on her with.

“Get some towels,” Nicole cried, looking up at Kimberley.

“The paramedics will take care of him. They’re on their way.” Kimberley’s voice was cold.

“You can’t just let him die.” Nicole used the stuffed elephant to put pressure on the gunshot wound, soaking up the blood.

“He’s not going to die.” Kimberley shook her head.

“He’s bleeding out.”

“He’s got a flesh wound and a gunshot to the arm nowhere near the brachial artery. He’s fine. Just in pain. I actually hope those paramedics take their time getting here,” she said, pacing back and forth.

“How can you say something like that?” Nicole seethed, leaning over David as if she were protecting him.

“Easily. He killed a woman in cold blood and chopped her head off. He deserves to suffer.”

Kimberley opened the front door and walked outside, needing the fresh air and needing to get away from her mother, who was clearly in shock. She hoped she’d come to her senses when her brain started thinking straight again. Sam’s police truck, an ambulance and three Custer County SUV’s sped down the driveway around the farmhouse and onto the grass in front of the cottage. Sam leaped out of his vehicle, running toward Kimberley.

“Are you okay?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and lifting her chin with the other, checking her over for bumps, cuts, bruises, blood. Her hair was a disheveled mess. She felt a searing pain across her face, where it had smashed into the wall. She was sure it was red if not bruised already. Her knuckles were torn open thanks to two punches thrown in the last twenty-four hours. Her body ached from being