Then she remembered what Ben had said about the gun. He’d left it with her Aunt Helen. This was her only chance. Grace jumped up and made a grab for the heavy vase beside her sofa. Just as she reached it, Nathan was on top of her, bringing her crashing to the ground and spilling the contents onto the floor in front of her. She fell so heavily that she bit her lip, tasting yet more blood. She heard Nathan laughing. No doubt he assumed she’d been intending to use the vase as a weapon.

Nathan stood up and loomed over her. He was chuckling.

‘Don’t cry, Grace. That was a good try. But when will you learn you’ll never get rid of me? Why can’t you accept that I own you? I control you. You will never escape me.’

Grace rolled onto her back and confronted the monster who had haunted her for most of her life. She smiled at him. Then, with a steady hand, she raised the Glock and pointed it at Nathan’s chest. She desperately hoped there were bullets in that gun. Because if there weren’t she was done for. Surely karma had to be on her side at least once where Nathan was concerned.

Nathan’s face paled instantly as he stared down the barrel. Grace thought about how good it would be to savour the look of terror and confusion on his face. But she couldn’t afford that luxury. As soon as he got over the initial shock, the adrenaline would kick in and he’d overpower her.

Squeezing the trigger, she heard the crack of the gunshot and watched Nathan’s face as the pain tore through him like wildfire. Blood filled his throat. She could hear the choking noises emanating from his gullet as he dropped to the floor.

She stood over him, holding the smoking gun in her hand.

Grace was covered in blood. She looked around her living room. There was blood on the carpet, on the walls, on the furniture. It looked like a set from a horror film. She shook her head. She had to think clearly. Using Nathan’s motionless hand, she made sure that his and her prints were the only ones on the gun.

Grace’s ‘Aunt Helen’, was in fact an alabaster vase. It was a huge, hideous thing, with the image of an old woman painted on it. But Helen had bought it for Grace as a gift shortly before she died.

She’d once told Ben it reminded her of her aunt and Ben had misunderstood and thought she’d meant the image looked like Helen. They’d laughed so much that ever since they’d referred to the vase as Aunt Helen. She kept it next to the sofa, where she could see it as a reminder of her beloved aunt. Even dead, Ben and Helen were looking out for her.