With that on the forefront of my mind, I was willing to do anything I had to.
I slid to the side and swung the poker at his neck, stunning him enough for me to readjust my position. He swung at me again, and I ducked, taking the opening to thrust the poker into his armpit, getting a good two inches of it in before I had to let go. The man was swinging wildly, so I figured I’d help him out by grabbing the end of the poker and pulling it back. Now he was squirting blood while screaming like it was the end of the world.
I suppose it probably was for him. Think I might have hit an artery.
As he dropped to his knees, I reached down and pulled the handgun from his hip. He was gonna die, but it was likely going to take a few minutes until he bled out. So, I helped him out again by putting a bullet between his eyes.
This place was going to be a bitch to clean up.
Putting that thought out of my mind, I took one look at the four men who had stumbled into the house and ran for the kitchen. The door to the mud room burst open like a damn giant had plowed through it.
I hid against the wall, waiting for the first person who stepped into the kitchen. Once I saw the barrel of a gun, Iknew there was an outstretched arm far behind. My hands went around the forearm, finding it much bigger than I had anticipated. This dude clearly didn’t skip arm day.
Acting quickly, I pulled, throwing the pile of muscle disguised as a man off balance. Then I twisted until his arm was behind him, bringing him to his knee with a pained grunt. I continued twisting his arm until I heard the sickening crack. I loosened my grip enough to swing his arm around the right way, then snapped it over my leg for good measure.
Fucker wouldn’t be shooting anyone any time soon.
I didn’t hesitate to rip the knife from my boot and slice his throat, the blade so sharp it nearly cut to the bone.
Let me rephrase that, fucker wouldn’t begetting upany time soon.
I looked up just in time to see the barrel of a gun as it flew at my face. One crack between my eyes and I was pretty sure my nose was broken. The river of blood I felt flowing down a second later told me I was likely right.
The world went woozy, or maybe that was my head. I blinked against fuzzy vision, then brought my knife down on the blurry figure dancing in front of me. Maybe they weren’t actually dancing, more like weaving and dodging. They grunted as I made contact near their collarbone right above where their protective vest rested. Someone got me from behind. An arm slipped around my neck and I was barely aware of it until I felt the strain of trying to pull in air. It was all over, though I kept fighting. Think I nailed someone in the stomach as I kicked my legs wildly.
Knife,my brain reminded me as my vision went black.
The arm around my neck wasn’t giving up and the solid form behind me didn’t even feel like it was struggling.
Using the last of my strength, I bent over, hauling the boulder of a man behind me up, all the while, wishing I wouldhave bulked up like Dune instead of trying to keep a leaner frame so I could still fit into my favorite jeans. The tips of my tingling fingers brushed over the cool handle of my hunting knife. Thank fuck I stuffed one in each boot.
I couldn’t say what happened next. I was basically well on my way to passing out as I dumbly stabbed in the area of my neck, praying I hit something other than me.
The hold released on my neck and I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Even as my vision stayed black and I choked as I gasped for air, I vowed I wasn’t done.
No, I wouldn’t let this be the end.
23
Ford
Fucking Austin.
If I ever saw him again, I was going to kill him.
Kiss the hell out of him first, then kill him.
I couldn’t believe he did that to me.
I stood there blinking at the door after I figured out my shouting wasn’t doing a damn bit of good.
It took me way too long to give up and move away from the door I knew he wasn’t going to open again. He was lucky I didn’t go tumbling down those stairs and break my neck when he pushed me. Though, truthfully, the push hadn’t been that hard, and if I hadn’t been trying to play catchup to what he was saying to me, I might not have even stumbled back far enough for the stairs to be a threat.
There was nothing left to do but follow his directions.
I had to duck to keep from hitting my head against the top as I descended the stairs. The concrete walkway at the bottom was narrow and long, lit by small square light fixtures on the left side spread out every four feet. Eventually, I ended up in a room that couldn’t have been more than four hundred square feet, harsh lights greeted me from above, making the room feel cold and unpleasant. One side held cheap metal shelves, half full with all kinds of nonperishables from canned meats to pancake mix. Next to the shelf was a small metal table, the sturdy kind they used in industrial kitchens. The other wall held a cluster of bunkbeds, their flat mattresses made my back protest with a small twinge at simply the thought of sleeping on them.
