“Then why take them down?” I ask, stalling, trying to think things through. There’s no way I’m giving up my knife.
“Because you’re not going to be any help to your sister looking like that,” he says pointing to me. “We need to take their armor.”
“But how do I know you’re not going to—”
“You don’t know,” he snaps, balling his fists. “You know nothing.”
“Then how am I supposed to trust you with the only weapon I have to protect myself?”
“Because, girl, if I wanted you dead, dead you would be.”
“Whatever, asshole. I’ll take them down. You’re not getting my knife,” I say in what I’m hoping is a tough voice. I shake my head and grab onto the opposite rope and use it to lower the flag, which lowers the bodies. Instantly my muscles tighten and tire, and a line of cold sweat drips down the back of my shirt.
I grit my teeth, continuing until the bodies clank softly on the curb of the flagstone and slump against each other. I quickly look at him and step away. “Okay, idiot.” I’m breathing a little too heavily, my heart beating a little too fast. “You can undress them; I’m not touching them.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously toward me. “I’m doing this foryou.”
“Yeah, go ahead, jerk. Keep telling yourself that. You’re undressing other men forme. Go ahead. I’ll be over there.Jackass.”
