The guy next to the dresser finally managed to get a knife out of its hiding place. A big ugly thing with a six inch blade. He held it up in front of him defiantly.
I advanced on him again, the hammer resting casually on my shoulder. “Put it down,” I told him.
Instead, he shoved it towards me, slicing at the air. “I’ll fucking cut you!” he shrieked, his voice cracking in fear.
I took another step towards him. He pressed back against the dresser, his face deathly pale, swiping the knife in vicious little arcs to keep me away.
I gripped the hammer and started to swing it back....
The knife fell from his fingers. His legs wilted and he slumped to the floor on his ass, his hands up in front of his face. “Please!” he begged.
He’d come to rest with his legs splayed. I swung back the hammer and I saw his mouth drop open in horror as he realized what I was about to do. His scream filled the air as the hammer whistled down right between his legs.
There was a crunch of wood and the head buried itself in the cheap floorboards between his thighs. I’d aimed it so perfectly, the top of the head was just brushing his balls. He stared at the hammer, speechless with relief.
I smash things. Sometimes I have to hurt people. But I’m not a sadist.
My voice was calm, the anger gone. “You ever grow in thisneighborhood again,” I told him, “and next time it’ll be an inch higher.”
I waited for him to nod. Then I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out into the street. When I’d dragged his friend out as well, I took the little bottle of gasoline from my pocket and emptied it over the debris, then lit a match and threw it in. By the time I was halfway back to my car, the whole house was burning.
I should have felt good. I should have felt like hitting a bar—that was my normal routine, after finishing a job. But I didn’t. All I could think about was Louise. I’d vented the anger but the anger, it turned out, was the easy part. Now it had blown away, I could see where it had come from: that throbbing wound inside me that had been left when I let her down.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d given a shit about anyone. But I was really starting to care about this girl.
11
SEAN
I didn’t seeher again for a few days. Then, one evening, I came down the stairs to find her in the lobby, struggling towards the elevator.
She had two huge white plastic sacks in her arms, gathered to her chest like twin babies, and she was teetering under the weight. Every few steps, the sacks would threaten to slip out of her grasp and she’d have to grab for them again. She was far too preoccupied to notice me.
She just barely managed to make it to the elevator and hit the button. I winced.
“It’s broken,” I muttered.
She snapped her head around, startled, and dropped one of the sacks. It wentwhumpon the floor, narrowly missing her foot. Then, struggling to pick it up, she dropped the other one.
“Let me give you a hand,” I said.
She ignored me, crouched, and tried to pick up the first sack. That meant that, as I approached, I was looking down on her andfuck me…she was wearing a scoop-neck top and the view I had of her pale cleavage was amazing. Smooth white skin and her breasts were themost perfect shape, just waiting for a hard hand to slide down the front of her top and cup them….
For all my good intentions, I still wanted to bang the hell out of this girl.
She hefted both sacks and stood, her knees trembling a little under the strain. Then she headed towards the stairs.
“Ah, come on,” I said disbelievingly. “It’s ten floors.”
She ignored me and put her foot on the first step. I silently shook my head at her stubbornness...but I had to admire her determination.
She stepped up to the second step. I started up the stairs behind her.
“Please stop following me,” she said tightly.
“I’m just walking up the same stairs. It’s a free country.”
“Weren’t you on your way out?”
