"Bitch!" the red-haired thug yelled, trying to mask his own fear as he raised a fist and charged at Seraphina Simmons.
Seraphina had just kicked the blond thug, twisting her ankle slightly from the force of the blow.
Seeing his partner lunge at her, she gritted her teeth, sidestepped, and slammed her elbow hard into his back.
Enraged by the hit, the redhead whipped a pocketknife out of his jacket and slashed at her.
She barely dodged the fatal strike, but the blade sliced across her wrist.
A sharp, stinging pain flared instantly, bringing a hot rush of tears to her eyes.
She couldn't afford to die here—Little Bean needed his mommy.
"Damn it!"
Gathering every ounce of her remaining strength, she delivered a brutal kick to the redhead.
Caught completely off guard by her fierce counterattack despite her injury, he stumbled.
The kick landed squarely on his chest, sending him crashing to the asphalt, the knife clattering out of his grip.
Seraphina immediately lunged forward and kicked the weapon far out of reach.
In the distance, the rumble of an approaching engine echoed through the night.
At the same time, her phone began to buzz frantically inside her purse.
Seizing the moment, she yelled bluffingly, "Back off! My husband is right down the road, and you're both dead meat if he finds you!"
The two thugs exchanged a panicked glance, scrambled onto their motorcycle, and sped off into the darkness.
The approaching car simply zoomed right past her.
Seraphina watched the taillights of the motorcycle fade away, clutching her chest as her heart hammered against her ribs.
This stretch of Highway 325 was completely unsafe; who knew what other creeps were lurking out here?
She was running on adrenaline and empty fumes.
She needed to get to safety, fast.
Pulling a handkerchief from her bag, she quickly bound her bleeding wrist.
Only then did she pull out her phone to check the screen.
It was flooded with missed calls from Tiffany Taylor.
The lump in her throat grew heavier.
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