“While you’re at it, remember hittin’ me over the head with that lamp—and try imaginin’ how angry I was when I came to.” He keeps his blade near my throat.
I can’t help the smile that escapes.
“What’s so funny?” His own smile returns—a hopeful smile—hopeful that I finally got that joke he never told.
“I’m just imagining you waking up on the motel floor, like you said,” I say.
“You get a kick outta that?”
“Yeah. I do.”
He laughs. “Good—I like that. I like that about you. See what I mean, Mel? She’s a feisty bitch.”
The red-haired Mel smiles slowly, showing his teeth.
“I like a girl with spunk. Pretty eyes, long hair, big titties—you’re almost my type,” Freddie says.
He waits for me to question his almost. I could care less, and it takes him far too long to realize it.
He’s already laughing before the punch line. “You’re a bit fatter than I’d prefer.”
My spit lands on target, directly between the prick’s eyes. His grin never leaves his face. If anything, it just revs him up even more.
“She knows what I like.” Freddie nudges Mel with his elbow. “I’ll give ‘er that much!” Mel looks less impressed—impatient, ready to be done with this nonsense, just like me. Also like me, he seems to be over Freddie’s predictable comedy.
I wait for Freddie to calm down before saying, “Fuck you.”
“Last chance, beautiful. Where’re the coins?” Again, Freddie pushes his cool blade against my throat.
Bzzz!
We all look to the buzzer-box next to my apartment door. My guardian angle is downstairs, ringing my apartment.
“Who’s that?” Mel asks.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CAPTURE & ESCAPE
Freddie sighs, his fist still clenching his knife against my throat. “Expecting company?” he asks.
I don’t respond with anything more than another shrug.
“Well, darlin’?”
Bzzz!
I remain silent.
“Goddammit,” Freddie mutters. “Alright—you’re goin’ to answer the door, and tell your friend that you’re busy. Got it? Don’t try anythin’ sneaky, ‘cause it won’t work. I promise, it won’t work.”
Bzzz!
“Answer it,” Freddie says, relieving the pressure of his blade from my throat.
I press the talk-button on my buzzer and take a deep breath. “Hello?”
There’s no answer. Freddie and Mel stand motionless, silent. Their eyes are wide and their grins are gone. Suddenly, it’s serious business—the joking around is over.
“Hello?” I say again, now silently begging for a response. Why won’t my guardian angle speak? “Who’s there? Hello?”
“I have a package for an Olivia Marie Kross?” an unfamiliar male voice crackles through my buzzer. No one in Ilium knows my full name—no one’s ever known my full name except for my parents, but I can’t imagine they’re sending too many packages from beyond the grave. My guardian angle doesn’t even know my full name.
“Buzz them up and act normal. Understand?” Freddie says. Freddie and his precious coins have become the least of my concerns. I’m not afraid of Freddie. Freddie is all bark, no bite. I am afraid of Carmine Pesconi.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“I’m not expecting a package.” My body is rigid.
Bzzz! Mel reaches for the door-button on my buzzer but grab his wrist.
Freddie’s smirk returns to his face. “Do ya make lots of enemies?” he asks, hovering his finger over the door-button. “How’s this for a deal: Ya give me my coins and I don’t press this button.”
“I don’t have your coins.”
“Then I press the button.” Freddie licks his lips as if he’s discovered my weakness. He’s too stupid to understand that, pressing that button means him facing the thug downstairs, too.
“Wait,” I say. Freddie keeps his finger over the
I can’t help the smile that escapes.
“What’s so funny?” His own smile returns—a hopeful smile—hopeful that I finally got that joke he never told.
“I’m just imagining you waking up on the motel floor, like you said,” I say.
“You get a kick outta that?”
“Yeah. I do.”
He laughs. “Good—I like that. I like that about you. See what I mean, Mel? She’s a feisty bitch.”
The red-haired Mel smiles slowly, showing his teeth.
“I like a girl with spunk. Pretty eyes, long hair, big titties—you’re almost my type,” Freddie says.
He waits for me to question his almost. I could care less, and it takes him far too long to realize it.
He’s already laughing before the punch line. “You’re a bit fatter than I’d prefer.”
My spit lands on target, directly between the prick’s eyes. His grin never leaves his face. If anything, it just revs him up even more.
“She knows what I like.” Freddie nudges Mel with his elbow. “I’ll give ‘er that much!” Mel looks less impressed—impatient, ready to be done with this nonsense, just like me. Also like me, he seems to be over Freddie’s predictable comedy.
I wait for Freddie to calm down before saying, “Fuck you.”
“Last chance, beautiful. Where’re the coins?” Again, Freddie pushes his cool blade against my throat.
Bzzz!
We all look to the buzzer-box next to my apartment door. My guardian angle is downstairs, ringing my apartment.
“Who’s that?” Mel asks.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CAPTURE & ESCAPE
Freddie sighs, his fist still clenching his knife against my throat. “Expecting company?” he asks.
I don’t respond with anything more than another shrug.
“Well, darlin’?”
Bzzz!
I remain silent.
“Goddammit,” Freddie mutters. “Alright—you’re goin’ to answer the door, and tell your friend that you’re busy. Got it? Don’t try anythin’ sneaky, ‘cause it won’t work. I promise, it won’t work.”
Bzzz!
“Answer it,” Freddie says, relieving the pressure of his blade from my throat.
I press the talk-button on my buzzer and take a deep breath. “Hello?”
There’s no answer. Freddie and Mel stand motionless, silent. Their eyes are wide and their grins are gone. Suddenly, it’s serious business—the joking around is over.
“Hello?” I say again, now silently begging for a response. Why won’t my guardian angle speak? “Who’s there? Hello?”
“I have a package for an Olivia Marie Kross?” an unfamiliar male voice crackles through my buzzer. No one in Ilium knows my full name—no one’s ever known my full name except for my parents, but I can’t imagine they’re sending too many packages from beyond the grave. My guardian angle doesn’t even know my full name.
“Buzz them up and act normal. Understand?” Freddie says. Freddie and his precious coins have become the least of my concerns. I’m not afraid of Freddie. Freddie is all bark, no bite. I am afraid of Carmine Pesconi.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“I’m not expecting a package.” My body is rigid.
Bzzz! Mel reaches for the door-button on my buzzer but grab his wrist.
Freddie’s smirk returns to his face. “Do ya make lots of enemies?” he asks, hovering his finger over the door-button. “How’s this for a deal: Ya give me my coins and I don’t press this button.”
“I don’t have your coins.”
“Then I press the button.” Freddie licks his lips as if he’s discovered my weakness. He’s too stupid to understand that, pressing that button means him facing the thug downstairs, too.
“Wait,” I say. Freddie keeps his finger over the
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