Excerpt (unedited) ... The Dom's Invitation

EXCERPT... “Locksdale Police, this is Sergeant Stephens, how can I help you?” “My name’s Sienna Hodgeson, I live at thirty-two Oceanside Drive, Locksdale, and there is a domestic dispute happening next door, at number thirty-four. I really think Clinton, the husband, just threw Pixie, the wife, at the wall – at least, that’s what it sounded like to me.” Right as I finished my usual spiel to the Sergeant, an almighty smash echoed through my residence. “I’ll get a unit around there as soon as I can.” “Thank you.” I winced again when something else got thrown as I hung up. They better fucking hurry up. Even though the police station was pretty close, it takes them forever to arrive. I knew that from experience. The fighting next door escalated and I heard Clinton screaming at Pixie that he was going to kill her. Fuck. Now what do I do? Jesus Christ. I hate getting involved. Picking up my cell phone, I opened my back door and walked out. Clinton was still screaming at Pixie, and I heard poor little Skye crying her eyes out. I really felt for the little girl. At six years old, she’s seen way too much domestic violence. Then, I heard something being thrown, Pixie screamed his name, and Skye’s bloodcurdling scream set my legs into motion. Before I knew what in the hell I was doing, I set off up the side of my place in a flat out run, threw the gate open and raced around the end of the fence, my heart jumping into my throat as I reached their front door. Without thinking about it, I pounded on the door with a closed fist … hard enough to almost break a few bones in my hand. I had nothing on me that I could use as a weapon if I needed it. But I was ready when the door got torn open and Clinton glared at me. “What the fuck do you want?” he growled, his blue eyes piercing holes through my forehead. “Skye,” I called out, completely ignoring the raging man standing in front of me. “Pixie, get Skye and come to the door,” I instructed, my eyes not leaving Clinton’s. I was ready for him if he chose to do something other than sneer at me. Without breaking eye contact, I saw Pixie limping to the door, with Skye crying with her chubby little arms wrapped firmly around Pixie’s neck as she carried her. Her steps faltered a little when she got close to Clinton. “Get out of the way,” I gritted out through clenched teeth and Clinton just laughed at me. But he was very agitated. He couldn’t stand still. I have to get Skye out of there. I took one step back, putting some distance between Clinton and myself. Lifting my phone, I swiped the screen, and was ready to hit call. “Let them out, or I’m calling the emergency number for child protection. I’ve already called the police, they’re on their way.” “You just can’t keep your nose out of other people’s fucking business, can ya, Sienna?” he snarled, and I took one more step away from him. I hit call and put the phone to my ear. Clinton lurched forward and made a grab for my phone, almost snaring me around my wrist, but I side-stepped in the direction of the neighbors on the other side. Come on, Pixie, get out the door. Just like she had a connection to my brain, she half-ran, half-limped through the door, and headed in the direction of the gate to my back yard. Clinton made another grab for the phone in my hand, and I took off running, with him hot on my heels. Then I heard the sirens. I didn’t stop. Once I got through the gate, I turned around, the police sirens getting louder and louder the closer they got as I slammed the gate shut and stuck a stainless-steel pole diagonally across it when it was latched, sliding one side down the brick wall until it found its little niche and locked in tight. The only way Clinton is going to get in my back yard is to jump the damned fence. Pixie was waiting for me on the paved patio near my back door. I was breathing heavily after my little sprint, and Pixie was trying to catch her breath while she was crying. Skye was still glued around Pixie’s neck and her grip was probably making it even harder for her to breathe. Sliding the glass door open, I put my hand in Pixie’s lower back and urged her through just as the siren’s earsplitting sound almost blanked out any other noise in our street before they got turned off. When we walked inside, all I saw were the red and blue lights flashing through my front windows, like strobe lights through my house. Quickly lifting my eyes to the ceiling, I silently asked the big guy upstairs to give me a break. Please, please let me hear from Melinda Moir before the end of the week. © Copyright Carol Delmornay 2019. All Rights Reserved. Pic Credit : Google Images.