Urban Romance

I felt a tremor run through my hand as I touched the hammer's cold metal.

That blond-haired man was blinded by avarice, his entire focus locked on the potential loot in the glove compartment, leaving him completely open for the attack.

I gritted my teeth and brought the hammer down onto his head, causing a sickening thud as the heavy tool connecting with his skull echoed sharply inside the car.

He let out a muffled groan, his eyes widening as he looked at me, seemingly unable to believe that I had dared to fight back. Blood poured heavily from the wound on his head, running down his face and splattering onto the driver's seat.

His body went slack on the doorframe, the sudden shift in weight making the car's remaining balance impossible. It started to swing uncontrollably, causing the front end to suddenly plunge.

I felt a wave of paralyzing terror washed over me, leaving me gasping 

I nearly lost my balance from that blond-haired man's tug, and I slammed my back against the center compartment. The sharp, piercing agony made me suck in my breath. 

However, I ignored the pain and brought the hammer down with full force onto his shoulder blade. "Let go of me!"

The strike resulted in a heavy thud, and he let out a sharp cry of pain. In response, he exerted even greater strength in his hold.

I had bloodshot eyes as I struck his arm with the hammer again. "I told you to let go of me, you lunatic!" 

That single blow completely exhausted all my remaining strength.

The blond-haired man finally succumbed to the pain and released me. He stumbled backward, pressing his hand to the shoulder that was bleeding profusely.

I violently kicked the back door open, clutched Heather to my chest, and poured my last remaining energy into tumbling out of the car. 

I distinctly felt t

That massive impact immediately sent the left side of my car hovering upward, leaving two wheels dangling in the air.

I instinctively shifted to reverse and slammed the gas pedal, causing the gearbox to respond with a horrific grinding shriek. In the end, the tires spun futilely on the wet surface, and thick, pungent white smoke streamed out from under the chassis.

The engine gave one last, desperate bellow during the final confrontation before the whole hood violently shook, and all the lights on the dashboard extinguished.

In the split second my car's engine died, the Land Rover—acting like a beast going in for the kill—slammed my car with crushing force against the guardrail.

In the aftermath of the crash, the airbag detonated, brutally hitting my sternum. I felt a crippling, blinding pain shooting through my ribcage, followed by a spray of blood from my mouth. 

I didn't have the time to care about it, though. I fought the pain and spun around to look at Heather. She was slumped over with blood streaming steadily from her nostrils, ruining the T-shirt with the little rabbit design she loved so much.

I yelled, my voice cracking and unrecognizable, "You have to wake up, Heather! Mommy's right here!"

That blond-haired man refused to stop. His Land Rover's engine let out another mighty roar before he used his Land Rover to grind and push my car, forcing it inch by agonizing inch against the guardrail.

With a hideous sound of metal ripping apart, my car was shoved right over the guardrail. The nose of the car dropped violently, and the sickening feeling of falling instantly sent a shock of dread through me.

However, the blond-haired man had suddenly stopped his pursuit.

I was still sitting in my driver's seat, which was hanging over the precipice. I could look straight down into the void by just craning my neck—jagged terrain was barely visible through the swirling rain and fog.

The car was lodged in a precarious equilibrium. The slightest breeze would cause it to list and groan, the metal protesting with an audible creaking.

I remained rigid in the driver's seat, terrified to make the slightest move. It was quiet all around us, with just the downpour and my gasping breath audible. I was absolutely drenched in cold sweat despite the chilling weather.

Suddenly, the sound of a vehicle door unlatching and opening came from outside the car.

I felt a jolt of fear shoot through me as I instantly checked the rearview mirror. That blond-haired man had emerged, stumbling slightly as he got out of the Land Rover. 

I was paralyzed by the thought of what this degenerate might do now that he was out. I hesitated for two seconds before I maneuvered my stiff hand to quietly pop the latch on the glove compartment. I was going for Howard's maintenance kit—a last-ditch effort to arm myself against the approaching man.

I had just shifted my weight when the car suddenly shrieked in protest, with the metal letting out a heart-stopping groan, and the nose of the car dropped lower toward the chasm. I froze in place, not daring to even take a breath.

The blond-haired man walked up to my shattered window and gazed at me with a smug grin on his face. "You think you can outsmart me, huh? Go on, try all you want!"

He hawked a vile glob of phlegm and spat it directly onto my face. He then yanked a fistful of my hair, tugging my head brutally through the broken window. He snarled, "I love punishing whores like you who sleep their way into a cushy life with a fancy car!"

His brutal tugging sent the car into a violent tremor, which gave off a despairing creak, the sound of metal reaching its breaking point.

I was crying hysterically, my voice shaking uncontrollably as I pleaded, "I'm sorry! It's all my fault. I'll do whatever you demand, but please pull my daughter out of the car first before it tips over! I'm begging you! Get her out of here now!"

I leaned on the doorframe and repeatedly hit my head against it, a gesture of absolute pleading. I cut myself on the sharp fragments of glass still embedded in the doorframe, and blood started to seep down my face, tracing a line along my nose.

I knew that my plea was likely useless. A brute like him was incapable of empathy. However, I was prepared to do anything to secure the smallest sliver of hope for Heather. She was only two years old and didn't deserve to be plunged off this cliff to die alongside me.

That blond-haired man, instead of accepting my plea, roared with malicious laughter. He leaned in for a moment to look at Heather, who was unconscious in the back seat. He stood atop the guardrail, unzipped his trousers, and began urinating in her direction.

That foul-smelling liquid splashed into the car and dripped onto Heather's face, causing her to choke and cough convulsively. She immediately flushed from the coughing, though she still couldn't regain consciousness. 

"You bastard! You son of a bitch!" I was filled with a murderous desire to tear him apart. I didn't dare to fight back, though, as I couldn't risk making any large movement due to the car's precarious position.

He noticed my total inability to act and started to laugh hysterically. He placed his foot firmly on the car's door frame and began rocking the car violently. 

He even hummed a lullaby with perverse pleasure, kicking the car harder each time. "Oh, rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock…"

I felt my heart pounding erratically in my chest as the car started to sway wildly. 

It was then that the hammer from the glove compartment of the front passenger seat got thrown out by the violent movement and landed within my reach.

That monstrous blond-haired man was still laughing hysterically outside while deliberately rocking the car and basking in the sight of my terror.

How could he do this to us? How could this monster be allowed to contemptuously destroy our lives? Why did my innocent daughter and I have to be the final victims of his depravity?

I thought to myself. "It's better to survive and face the consequences than to perish here."

I finally felt the pent-up fury and hatred breaking free from within me, accompanied by a wave of adrenaline that instantly drowned out the fear of dying. I turned to him, intending to make one final plea, while my fingers clenched around the hammer. 

"Can you please just let us go? I have money here and a high-end whiskey in the boot! I'll give you everything!" I pleaded. 

"You should have just told me you had money!" That blond-haired man said with a sneer before pulling his foot away and leaning his head into the car window to peer inside.

I felt a tremor run through my hand as I touched the hammer's cold metal.

That blond-haired man was blinded by avarice, his entire focus locked on the potential loot in the glove compartment, leaving him completely open for the attack.

I gritted my teeth and brought the hammer down onto his head, causing a sickening thud as the heavy tool connecting with his skull echoed sharply inside the car.

He let out a muffled groan, his eyes widening as he looked at me, seemingly unable to believe that I had dared to fight back. Blood poured heavily from the wound on his head, running down his face and splattering onto the driver's seat.

His body went slack on the doorframe, the sudden shift in weight making the car's remaining balance impossible. It started to swing uncontrollably, causing the front end to suddenly plunge.

I felt a wave of paralyzing terror washed over me, leaving me gasping for air. However, I kept telling myself that I couldn't afford to panic; it would be suicidal. 

I t

Chapter 4