Chapter 19 #3
He ducked, and it kept going to smash into the wall. He straightened, an incredulous look overtaking his features.
I threw a pen next. It hit him in the chest and bounced off.
“You’d better watch yourself,” he intoned.
I stalked to the kitchenette—basically a small set of cabinets with a counter against the wall—and looked at the empty cereal box, the spilled rice, and an open packet of ramen.
I reached for the single knife I had—which was pathetically dull but could still do some damage—but the grip on the handle slackened when I saw the sink filled with water.
“No!” I yelled, the knife clattering onto the counter as I reached in to grab my headset, water raining off its saturated body. The headband and ear cushions were soggy, the mic was completely waterlogged, and the speakers were ruined. Even the jack to plug it in dangled in the water.
“Why the hell would you do this?”
“You’re lucky that’s all I did.”
I threw the headphones down, making water splash everywhere. “Lucky,” I spat, advancing.
He produced a knife from somewhere and flipped the blade up with a click before casually walking over to the couch to stab the tip in and drag it across the entire back.
I lunged for my North Face coat, terrified it would get caught in the destruction. I seized it by the hood, but he caught the arm and yanked. I stumbled, falling into the cushions and scrambling to get up. He laughed and tugged the coat again, but I tightened my grip, refusing to give it up.
“This must mean a lot to you,” he said, an ugly glint to his features. Pulling the knife from the back of my couch, he brought it down, slicing through the arm.
I howled and lunged over the back of the couch, throwing my entire body at him. We both went down in a tangle of limbs, rolling into the rickety card table and making it collapse.
He cursed, and I scrambled up, but he caught my leg and yanked me back.
My hand closed over one of the cable company manuals, and I spun around to slam it into his arm.
He grunted, and I stood, eyes flying to where I’d dropped the knife.
He rose between me and the flimsy weapon, his wide shoulders making the room feel that much smaller.
“I tried to do this the nice way,” he said, sliding the knife from one hand to the other.
Was he ambidextrous? Just great.
“But it’s obvious you need to be put in your place.”
The odds were against me here. I was smaller, weaker, and already out of breath. Plus, my knee was screaming in pain.
I said I wasn’t going to be stupider. The smart thing to do would just be to agree. He’d leave. I could figure it out later.
But something in me refused to comply, even if it was a lie. The last time I agreed to something, it had gotten me here. I probably had one good hit left in me, and if I did it right, I’d probably have enough time to open the locks and get out the door.
“Maybe once I brand you, you’ll remember who owns you.”
A sudden flash of Hiro’s lips on my neck just a little while ago came over me. The way I’d asked him to make those bruises his.
He’d done it. I was marked by him. Marks I hadn’t even gotten to relish over in the mirror yet.
Like hell I’d let this asshole put a mark on me.
I ran at him, but when he reached for me, I evaded to duck under his arm, grabbed the knife off the counter, and spun to jam it into his back.
He howled and cursed as red soaked into his white shirt. I left the knife lodged in his flesh and shoved him with both hands, putting all my weight into it. He fell onto his knees, and I rushed to the door, shaking hands undoing the locks as fast as I could.
The chain got caught halfway across, and I thought I might puke, but after a slight struggle, I yanked it free.
My sweat-slicked hand slid off the door handle on the first try but came back stronger the second to force it wide with a bang. I sprinted forward but was snatched back and slammed into the doorframe, head knocking into the wood.
“It’s going to be fun to break you,” he growled, fisting his hand in my hair and yanking until my scalp screamed.
The flash of silver off his blade was my only signal, and at the last moment, I brought up my aching knee, slamming it into his balls.
His eyes crossed, fingers going slack, and I slid from between him and the door frame out into the hall. The second I put weight on my leg, I crumbled, falling into a heap in the center of the dingy, dim hall.
He cursed, and I rolled into a sitting position. “Get out!” I hollered because apparently that was the best I could come up with.
I tried to scurry back, but where was I going to go? Tommy was there, red-faced and looming. Malice dripped from his eyes as he grabbed a fistful of my shirt and hauled me half off the floor.
I cringed, waiting for the fist he pulled back to knock my lights out, but a loud, shuddering bang brought us both to attention.
And there, standing slightly in front of a door sagging from its hinges, was my dark guardian angel backlit by flickering yellow light and looking more lethal than I’d ever seen him.