Page 28 of Misery
The muscles in his back tense when he hears me, but he doesn't turn.
"Magnus says there were three more bodies found this morning," he says. "Los Coyotes, but not our kills."
"So, someone elseishunting them."
"Yeah, it looks like it." He turns finally. His eyes stay on my face with effort.
"Is that good or bad?"
"Depends who's doing the killing and why." His phone buzzes. He checks it, frowns. "Get dressed. We need to move soon."
I retreat to the bathroom, pull on his clothes without underwear, trying not to think about how the soft cotton feels against bare skin.
I have to roll the pants at the waist and ankles, while the shirt swallows me.
I look like a child who's playing dress up.
When I emerge, he's pulled on a shirt. Shame.
No. Not shame. Good. Better. Safer.
"We should do some basic defense moves before we go," he says. "In case something happens."
"You think something will happen?"
"I think being prepared is better than being dead."
Hard to argue with that.
He moves the coffee table aside, creating space in the small living room. "Come here."
I approach him carefully, while he positions me in front of him.
"Someone grabs you from behind." His arms come around me, not tight but firm. "What do you do?"
"Scream?"
"If you can. But sometimes you can't. Or no one's there to hear." His breath warms my neck. "Think. What weapons do you have?"
"I... I don't know."
"Your whole body's a weapon. Elbows. Knees. Teeth. The back of your head." He adjusts his hold. "Try to break free."
I struggle, but he doesn't budge. "I can't. You're too strong."
"Don't match strength. I'll always win that fight. Use what you have." His voice drops. "Where are men vulnerable?"
Oh. "Their... balls?"
"Among other places. Eyes. Throat. Instep. Knee from the side." His hand guides my elbow. "Drive back hard into the center. Here."
I try it, gently.
"Harder."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. Harder."
