Page 12 of Death, Interrupted

As he let my answer sink in, I felt a moment of calmness come between us. Almost like we were aboutto sit down on the couch and have a civil conversation. But I couldn’t slip another time. I needed to take control. So, I did just that.

I wanted to catch him off guard by shoving forward and ramming my shoulder into his gut. But it was like running into a brick wall. He grunted but barely moved, and I bounced back, staggering on my heels.

“Oh, come on!” I groaned. “You’re not even human at this point. What are you eating, concrete?”

Joey lunged again, swinging his arm toward me, and this time I tripped and fell to the ground, knife flying out of my hand and scraping across the floor. My knees screamed in protest as I scrambled up, only for him to grab me around the waist and haul me clean off the ground.

“Put me down!” I shouted, kicking my legs wildly. “This is not how murder night is supposed to go! You’re ruining it!”

He spun, slamming me toward the coffee table. My boots caught the edge, splintering the wood as I crashed across it and rolled onto the floor. My head smashed into the tiles, and stars burst in my vision.

“Oh, my god,” I gasped, cupping the back of my head. “You’re actually going to kill me. And the worst part is you’ll probably flex about it after!”

Joey loomed over me with his freakishly large fists clenched. He was grinning now, a horrible, smug grin that made my stomachtwist.

Now he looked like a lunatic.

“Not so tough, are you, Webb?” he spat. “You never have been.”

I forced a laugh as I dragged myself back across the floor and decided to tell him just how scared I was. “Oh, yeah, I’m super tough. Totally not about to piss myself in front of you. Nope. Everything’s fine.”

He lunged again. But I was one step ahead this time. I swung my leg, tripping him just enough to make him stumble, then scrambled upright. I finally got hold of my knife and gripped it tightly. My whole body trembled, with adrenaline crashing through me, but I forced a grin to trick myself into thinking that I was actually winning this.

“Round two, Joey,” I panted. “Let’s dance.”

Chapter 4

Sly

I don’t know who moved first—me or Arnold Schwarzenegger—but my leg fired on instinct and found the only target in the known universe that always sends a man to his knees. A perfect, clean, history-making kick, straight to his balls.

Joey folded immediately. There was no sound at first, just air leaving his lungs in a sad, wheezy prayer. Then there was the delayed howl that shook the pretty wallpapered walls of his pretty house. He dropped, cupping the wounded future of his family tree, and pressed his forehead to the floor.

For half a second, I felt bad. Kicks like that hurt, but I snapped out of it before I could feel too much empathy and lost focus.He’s right there on the floor, man. Now’s the time to tie him up and do the villain monologue.

I moved fast and grabbed his wrists, then wrenched them behind his back before he could curl into full fetal meteor. He bucked, but pain won the fight. There was nothing he could do in this moment. I jammed my knee between his shoulder blades and scanned for supplies because, no, I did not bring rope. Not this time. Of course not.

“Shit,” I muttered. I couldn’t hold him like this forever. If he got up, I was dead.

He groaned and tried to rip his hands out of my grip, and I started to panic. I shifted, but kept my knee planted, and did what any respected serial killer would’ve done, and punched him in the nuts again. This time from behind. My fist slid right between his way-too-round cheeks, and I felt his balls, which were large just like the rest of his body, on my knuckles through my glove.

Very poetic, Sly. Gold star.

You’re not here to praise the motherfucker for how big his balls are.

Focus. Find something.

He cursed under his breath and promised to murder me, but I ignored him while I scanned the room and, blessed be, spotted a fat roll of duct tape onthe TV console. Of course, there was a random roll lying around in this house. The universe truly supported me in all this.

It had to be fate. I couldn’t explain it otherwise.

“Hold still,” I said, which was funny, because why would he? “I’m not trying to hurt you. Yet.”

With one hand on his wrists, I reached for the tape with my other. After ripping the tape off, I wrapped it around his wrists once, twice, thrice for spite, then a fourth because I respect craftsmanship. He was cursing the whole time and tried a violent twist to fling me off.

“No chance, big boy.” I pushed down on him and taped his elbows together for good measure. His ankles were next, and I decorated his muscular calves with two silver belts.Fuck, his calves were majestic.

He tried to kick, but the tape didn’t give in, keeping him harmless for me.