Stay Tuned

Chapter 37

Alyssa body-slammed me with enough force to make any WWE wrestler think twice about taking her on in the ring. I fell back, Alyssa on top of me, fighting like she was trying to get out of a casket after being buried alive.

“You’re going to be sorry,” she screeched.

Candace’s gown tore in at least five places as I fought to keep my face from getting permanently scarred. Beads from our dresses flew in every direction.

“When I get done with you, WSGA is never going to want you,” she promised me.

I was choking and thrashed against her grip with all my might. In an effort to get a better angle squeezing my neck, Alyssa moved her hand. In that instant, I elbowed her jaw, rolled away, and jumped to my feet.

Alyssa came at me again. Out of desperation, I did what any self-respecting girl in a catfight would do. I wanted to survive, after all. And not land in the emergency room. This was my best chance.
I grabbed hold of a handful of curls and yanked with all my might. I pulled her head close to mine and put my lips next to her ear.

“Stay away from me and stay away from my family,” I whispered.

She reached for my neck again, scratching the skin until it bled. With a last ditch effort to get her to stop fighting, I kneed her in the stomach.
 
Direct hit!

Alyssa twisted away in pain, clutched her abdomen, moaned, and dropped to the floor. Her purse, which she had somehow managed to keep hold of during the whole struggle, fell next to her with a thud.

I clamped my eyes shut, expecting the gun to go off.

Nothing.

I peeled open one eye and clung to the table next to my hip in an effort to keep standing. A lone lipstick case rolled across the floor.

Where is the gun? The floor rushed up at me. I snapped my eyes shut and tried to stop the room from spinning.

When I opened my eyes, Rick was hovering six inches from my face. He said something I couldn’t understand. I shook my head.

My mouth tasted like rubber cement. My tongue felt thick. “Wh-what are you doing, Rick?”

Someone patted my hair. A woman I didn’t know dabbed at my arm with a wet cloth.

“Give her some room,” Rick pleaded. “She’s in shock.”

No, I’m not, I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t tear my thoughts away from the sight of Alyssa’s purse hitting the ground. The scene played over in my head on automatic rewind.

I saw a police officer behind him.

Where’s Alyssa? I tried to ask after he walked over and bent down to take a look at me. My words came out as a mumble.

Rick’s worried eyes darted over me. “The paramedics are on their way—”

I tried to smile at him, but it seemed to take all of my energy. My vision seemed a bit off. It was so blurry that I thought I saw Chris. Someone else stepped into my line of vision, then out. He was still there. I blinked several times to try and see him better. My eyelids were so heavy. I fought to keep them open.

Whoever it was had the same build as Chris, with the same short, blond hair. Of course, it didn’t help that every man in the ladies’ room was wearing a black tuxedo.

I tried to wave, but couldn’t lift my arm more than an inch or two.

It is hot in this room. Why is it so warm? It’s making me so tired.

A few ladies brought over a bucket of ice. One woman scooped out a few chunks into a cloth napkin, which she tied into a bow.

“Here, darlin’,” she cooed and patted my hand. “Better hold this on your cheek. If you don’t, you’re going to have one big shiner.”

She didn’t wait for me to take the ice. The room tilted as she brought the cloth to my face.

“There, there,” she said. “All better.”

The chill seared my hot skin, like a bullet tearing through my cheek.

“Can I go home now?"