He stands up and walks to me, and the wooden floor creaks under his steps. The clinking of the chain attached to his pants adds tension to his moves. He is six feet tall and muscled, his body ripped enough that it’s obvious through his clothes. Along with the scar adorning his left eyebrow, it is clear this man is no joke. He is dangerous. He stretches out his right hand, reaching for my chest. I try to step back but the door behind me stops me on my tracks.
“Keep your hands off of me, motherfucker, or I swear I’ll—”
“You what? What were you going to say?” He grabs the chain of my dog tag, pulls it up and reads it.
I try to snatch it back, but he deflects, grabbing my throat with a tight grip and preventing the air from reaching my lungs.
“That’s a fancy way to say he’s choking you. Wait, wait, don’t tell me now that you like it? Kinky bitch,”Life says with a smirk on her face.“I knew you’d be begging for some pain down the line.”
Dipping his head, Rage whispers maliciously in my ear, “Right now. I’m cool and dandy. Don’t mistake it for me being friendly.” He switches from the right side of my neck to the left, brushing my lips in the process. “You came to my house uninvited, looking for me, so if I want to read your fucking dog tag, I’m going to do just that. Got it?” he whispers, meeting my eyes, waiting for me to nod in understanding. He gets closer to my face and loosens his grip a bit. “You’ve got some nerve, coming here to speak to me, asking for my help. You also got a death wish kiddo. Outside of this room you are nothing more than shark chum. Don’t expect me to save your sorry ass once you walk out of this door.” This he whispers into my mouth. Our eyes are too close to each other, and his warm breath invades me, making me uncomfortable.
I jerk up my knee, hit him in the balls and free myself from his grip. While he grabs his nuts with both hands, I take advantage of this moment by grabbing the doorknob. But it doesn’t turn – the door is locked from the outside.
Damnit!
As I turn back to check on Rage, he is already standing tall, waiting for a fight.
I slide my hands down my leg toward my ankle to reach my knife. I pull it out and point it at Rage.
“Wait, a second… is he… is he smiling? Pff–Hahaha.”Life is not wrong; Rage is smiling.
Though I don’t care if he smiles or cries, all I want is the information he can give me – now.
“What are you going to do with that knife, kiddo?” He approaches me slowly.
“Kill you, if you don’t give me what I want,” I reply, annoyed, “and stop calling me kiddo!”
“Oh, are you going to kill me now? Well, give it your best shot.” He extends both arms, taunting me.
I lunge forward, going for a flesh wound to make my point. He steps back, dodges the knife and grabs my wrist, hitting my shoulder with the palm of his right hand.
Fuck, he’s quick! How can a guy this huge can be this fast?
My adrenaline levels are high. Why? I’ve trained to do this thousands of times.
“That thing you are feeling right now… it’s called fear.” He smirks.
“Fuck you!” is all I can reply.
I circle around him but he mirrors my moves. We both know I have no fucking chance with a knife this small, though at the end, a wound is a wound, and if I can hurt him, then I can use that wound to my advantage. He bypasses me again and hits the leg of the desk, losing his balance.
Now! He won’t be able to dodge!
I move again, knife first, but he recovers quickly, and in a sharp move he disarms me, easily taking the knife from my hands and a stepping in behind me. We fetch up against the door, his hard dick pressing my ass and the knife rubbing my neck.
“I understand what Bruno saw in you now. You got some balls, kiddo,” he growls into my left ear.
“You mean ovaries. Right? Yeah, I got a pair, so stop fucking with me and tell me what I want to know.”
He lets me go giving me the knife back.
“Uh, talk tough all you want. It’s not going to make any difference.” Rage stares at me as he speaks those cold words. “I see right through your military training. You are good, but notmegood.”
Cocky bastard.
“I didn’t come here to be graded by you,” I reply. I really don’t care. “Are you going to tell me what I want to know, or what?”
“No,” he answers in a quick breath.
