My stomach dropped like a stone. Through the speaker, faint but unmistakable, the opening riff of that shitty rock song Richard blasted on repeat, the one he'd set as his ringtone months ago, blaring from outside Mendy's front door. He wasn't in yet. He was right there, trying to get in.

Penelope's eyes went wide, pupils blown. "Mendy, listen to me, lock yourself in your room. Deadbolt, chain, everything. Evan, call 911 now. We're coming, Mendy. Stay on the line with me."

We didn't wait. We sprinted back down the stairs, taking them three at a time, nearly slipping on the wet steps. Burst through the lobby doors, rain slamming into us again as we splashed across the lot. Penelope slid behind the wheel, key already in the ignition. The engine roared to life before I'd even slammed my door.

"FUCK!" I roared, my fists slamming the dash so hard the plastic cracked, the vents rattling like they'd snap off. "FUCK FUCK FUCK! I'M GOING TO KILL THAT CUNT!"

Penelope floored it, the car lurching forward, tires screaming on the wet asphalt as rain hammered the windshield. The wipers thrashed uselessly, smearing the downpour into blurry streaks of neon and streetlight. She blew through a red light, horn blaring as a truck swerved, its driver laying on the horn, lights flashing in our rearview.

"Move!" she yelled, her voice raw, knuckles white on the wheel. Another red light—she didn't even slow, the car fishtailing as we shot through an intersection, a sedan skidding to avoid us, its bumper clipping a curb with a sickening crunch.

"911, what's your emergency?" the operator answered, calm and clipped.

"Someone is breaking into my friend's house!" I barked, my voice hoarse. "1427 Oakridge Lane! He's armed, dangerous—get there now! She's locked in her room, he's kicking the door!"

"Units are en route," the operator said. "Stay on the line—"

I hung up, tossing the phone onto the dash, my heart pounding like a war drum. Penelope swerved around a corner, the car tilting, tires screeching as we hydroplaned for a split second, my shoulder slamming into the door. "Fuck, Pen, don't kill us!" I growled, gripping the handle.

"I'm trying!" she snapped, her eyes wild, rain blurring the road ahead. Another red light—she blew through, a cop car's siren wailing somewhere behind us, too far to matter. The city was a smear of wet lights and shadows, the rain relentless, pounding the roof like fists.

On speaker, Mendy's voice trembled, barely audible over the storm. "Evan… Penelope… I hear him… kicking… the front door…"

"Stay quiet, Mendy," Penelope said, her voice shaking but firm, weaving through traffic, horn blaring as she cut off a van. "Lock the bedroom, push something against it—now!"

A loud thud crackled through the phone, followed by the splintering crash of glass. "He's inside," Mendy whispered, her voice breaking into a sob. "Oh god, he's inside…"

My blood ran cold. "Mendy, hide!" I shouted, leaning forward, my hands gripping the dash. "Under the bed, in the closet—anywhere! Cops are coming!"

Penelope took a sharp turn, the car skidding, tires screaming as we hit a straight stretch of suburban road, houses blurring past, their porch lights dim in the rain. "We're two minutes out!" she yelled, her voice cracking with panic. "Hold on, Mendy!"

Footsteps echoed through the phone—heavy, slow, Richard moving through the house. A door creaked. Another. "Where are you, slut?" his voice slithered through the speaker, low and venomous, dripping with hate. "You think you can hide from me?"

Mendy's breath hitched, a stifled whimper. "He's… he's in the hallway," she whispered, her voice barely a thread. "I'm under the bed… I'm so scared…"

"Stay quiet," I hissed, my heart in my throat. "Don't move, don't breathe loud. We're almost there."

A loud bang—Richard kicking a door.

"Come out, you fucking bitch!" he roared, his voice closer now, the phone picking up every word. Another kick, wood splintering. The bedroom door creaked, groaning under the assault.

Penelope floored it, running another red light, the car shaking as we hit a pothole, water spraying up the sides. "One minute!" she shouted, her eyes locked on the road, rain hammering the windshield. "Mendy, we're coming!"

CRASH. The door gave way, wood cracking like a gunshot. Mendy gasped, a sharp, terrified sound that cut through me like a blade. "He's in!" she sobbed, her voice muffled, like she was pressed into the floor. "Evan, help me!"

"RICHARD, YOU FUCK!" I roared, useless, my fists pounding the dash again. "MENDY, HOLD ON!"

Silence. I could only hear Mendy's gasps. She was trying to be quiet as best as she could.

Footsteps. They got closer. Closer. Closer. And closer.

Again, silence. He stopped.

Then, it happened.

"FOUND YOU WHORE!"

Mendy's scream pierced the speaker, raw and desperate, then cut off as the line went dead.

"NO!" Penelope yelled, the car lurching as she took a final turn, tires screeching. We were on Mendy's street now, the house looming ahead, its front door hanging open, glass shattered across the porch.

Penelope slammed the brakes, the car skidding to a stop in the middle of the road, rain pouring down. She was out before I could blink, sprinting toward the house, her jacket flapping. I followed, boots splashing through puddles, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear the rain.

We burst through the front door, the house dark, the air thick with the smell of broken wood and fear. "MENDY!" I shouted, my voice echoing. "RICHARD STOP! STOP!"

I bolted down the hallway, shoes slipping on the wet hardwood, heart jackhammering in my chest. The bedroom door hung off its hinges, splintered wood scattered like shrapnel. I skidded inside and froze.

Richard was on top of Mendy, her t-shirt ripped open, one of her socks stuffed in her mouth. Her eyes were wide, tears streaming, muffled screams vibrating against the fabric. His hand fumbled at his belt.

I grabbed him by the shoulders, rage exploding through me like a bomb. "GET OFF HER!" I roared, yanking him back with everything I had.

He flew off the bed, crashing into the dresser, the mirror cracking under his weight.

"Take her and go outside!" I yelled to Penelope, who was already rushing in, face pale.

"Come on, honey," Penelope said, voice trembling but urgent, pulling Mendy up. She yanked the sock from her mouth, Mendy gasping, sobbing. "Let's go, come on."

Richard's eyes locked on me, bloodshot, wild. He shook his head like a dog, staggering to his feet. I stood my ground, fists clenched, never breaking eye contact. Fucking imbecile. I should've trusted Mendy from the start. Richard was compulsive, a stalker. And I'd called him a friend once.

"What the fuck, man?" I spat. "What are you doing? Are you retarded?"

"She's manipulating everyone," Richard snarled, spit flying. "Little whore outed me to my fucking father! MY FATHER!"

"You belong in a padded cell," I said, voice low, deadly. "Cops are on their way. You're done."

"And fuck you too," he sneered. "You never believed me."

"I believed you," I muttered, stepping closer. "Thanks to me, you made up with Mendy. Look where that got us—catching you pinning her down, reaching for your pants."

"She deserves it," he growled. "Call the cops. Tell them to fuck off."

"Not happening."

He lunged. I was ready, tensing as his arms wrapped my waist, trying to drive me down. I reeled back an inch, then slammed an elbow into his spine. We crashed to the floor, rolling. He straddled me, fist cracking into my cheek, stars exploding. I grabbed his throat, yanked hard, flipping us. Now I was on top.

"STOP!" I screamed. "You're sick!"

"You're the sick one!"

He shoved me off. I scrambled up. He did too, spitting blood, eyes feral. He grabbed the desk chair, hurled it. I ducked; it smashed through the window behind me, glass raining onto the street.

I shielded my face, shards biting my arms. When I looked up, that idiot was charging. No time. My back hit the windowsill, pain shooting up my spine. He grabbed my collar, punched my face. I shook it off, punched back, grabbed his hair, and with a roar, dropped us both out the window.

We hit the wet pavement hard, rain pounding us. "BASTARD!" I screamed. "STOP!"

"WHORE PROTECTOR! WHORE PROTECTOR! YOU BITCH!"

We staggered up, soaked, in the middle of the street. Mendy's mom's car idled behind me. Richard glanced back, saw Mendy at the living room window, watching, terrified. He smirked, bolted for the broken window, vaulting through, glass slicing his palms. Blood trailed, but he didn't flinch.

I followed, pulling my jacket sleeves over my hands, leaping through. Penelope had Mendy behind her, one arm out.

"STOP!" she yelled. "You pervert!"

"WHORE! FAKE TITS! MAYBE I'LL FUCK YOU TOO, EH? GIVE YOU THE ATTENTION YOU WANT WITH MY COCK!"

I snatched a vase off the coffee table, sprinted, and *mashed it over his head. Ceramic exploded. I yanked his hair, slammed his face into the window frame, more glass shattering, his head dangling outside. I hauled him back in, muscles screaming.

"STOP!" I roared. "Stay down, Richard!"

He sobbed, then roared like a rabid animal. "MENDY! MENDY! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Mendy cowered, hands over ears, sobbing. I shook out my hands, adrenaline surging. Then he grabbed my leg, yanked. I fell, head cracking the coffee table, vision blurring, breath gone.

A fist came down. I gasped, but it connected with my nose, blood spraying. I surged forward, headbutting his chest, hugging tight so he couldn't swing, then rolled, shoving him off.

"FUCK!" I gasped. "You're out of control! Look at you, you maniac!"

Richard, eyes manic, reached into his boot, pulled a small knife, blade glinting. He sneered something, probably he didn't even know what he said, then lunged at Mendy and Penelope.

I dove between them, grabbing his arm, twisting hard. We hit the floor. I pinned the knife hand, cracked his index and middle fingers back. Bone snapped.

He screamed, staring at his mangled hand, knife clattering away.

Sirens wailed, growing louder. Red and blue lights flashed through the windows. Doors slammed outside.

Finally…

Cops burst in, shouting commands. I didn't move. Just breathed.

I collapsed on my ass, eyes shutting, blood dripping from my nose. "Man…" I muttered. "Oh, god, as if I didn't have enough problems…"

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