Before I lost my nerve, I turned to leave and ran toward the door. Quick footsteps closed the distance between us as I frantically fumbled with the locks. He grabbed my arm, whirled me around, and pushed me back into the kitchen. He clamped on the back of my neck and picked up the first glass.

I glared up at him, my lips pursed. He shoved the glass against my mouth. Tequila trickled over my lips, down my chin, and to my chest. When the glass was emptied all over me, he shoved me down on the floor with such force, my right shoulder hit hard and knocked the breath out of me. I sucked in air as pain rocketed through my system. He dumped the second glass in my mouth and then held my lips and my nose closed until I swallowed.

The fire burned down my throat, hitting my stomach like cement. I tried to spit it out, but it was too late. The poison was in my system.

“Seems fitting your last drinks should be tequila. No one will argue that you finally decided to end it all with a tribute to Clare. We all know how you go off the rails this time of year.”

“Why are you doing this now?” I asked. “It’s been thirteen years. At best, all I’ve done is prove that David fathered Clare’s baby.”

“Jo-Jo is pregnant. I’d do anything to protect that kid. And I can’t risk David folding and telling the cops about me.”

“He can still do that.”

“Not if you’re dead.”

“Your DNA will be all over my apartment.”

“I’ll have time to clean up after you pass out. You won’t die right away. It’ll take time for you to slip away. And then I’ll clean up.”

“And then you and Jo-Jo will ride off into the sunset and be a happy family.”

“That’s the idea.” He pulled me up to my feet and yanked me toward the bottle, poured a second glass, and held it out to me.

“She’ll tell the cops she called you about David and me.”

“She won’t tell. Drink. Once you drink, you’ll calm down.”

“I don’t want it.” I pursed my lips.

“Drink.”

“Or you’ll strangle me?”

He balled his hands into fists, drew back, and punched me in the gut. My midsection convulsed, and for a moment I almost blacked out. As I gasped for air, he poured the shot into my mouth. I coughed, nearly choking.

Pain radiated through my body. I looked toward the bottle, craving more and hating myself for it.

“You want it, don’t you?”

I moistened my lips. I did want it. The craving was so strong, it threatened to overtake me.