Page 37 of Clean Hack
I flipped onto my back just as his body came sailing over the side. I swung, praying that I’d get a hit in. There was a heavy grunt as the bat made contact with the side of his face. Half of his body covered mine and I wiggled around like a fish out of water until I was free. We both got to our feet at the same time. While I was sure my face was showing all of my panic, his held a coolness topped off with a smug smile. Which made sense because I had a stupid baseball bat while he held a gun.
A third man entered the room, his massive body stopping in the doorway as his eyes raked over the scene. He was cool and calm, his stare pure evil and it sent a shiver down my spine. My eyes darted around the room. Two of the men held guns pointed at me. The one blocking the only exit I had simply folded his arms over his chest as if to say exactly what I already knew. That I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Kill her here or take her back to Savage?” spat the one that I’d managed to get a hit in on. His jaw was already starting to swell and turn colors. As much as I wanted to smile about that, I knew better. I was still at a disadvantage and had no idea how the fuck I was going to get myself out of here.
“She wanted in so bad, I say take her back.” I jerked my gaze to the one that had said that. He was skinny, his fingers caked with dirt, and his hair hung in greasy clumps over his forehead.
“I say we teach her a lesson,” the big and very terrifying one that blocked the doorway said. His voice was deep, dark, and gravelly. But not in a way that was sexy and mysterious. It was as evil as his glare. “Get ‘er on the bed.”
“No,” I breathed out in a scratchy whisper.
Before I could move, the one to my left lunged at me, his fingers grabbing me by the back of my head. Hairs ripped as he pulled me forward, then pushed me on the bed. I fought. I fought with everything I had left in me. My nails raking over skin, tearing it so deep I saw flashes of blood while in my thrashing struggle. I kicked as my pants were torn down my legs. I punched as my hoodie was pulled open and my shirt was ripped in numerous places. I screamed when they pinned me down. I bit when he tried to cover my mouth with his hand. I vowed that I wouldn’t stop, I wouldn’t give up, until I took my last breath.
“Fucking bitch.”
“Gonna show you that you don’t fuck with The Devil’s Kings.”
The words kept filtering into my ears but I couldn’t focus on what they were or which one was speaking them. The skinny one crawled on top of me and I saw black dots sprinkling my vision. He still held his gun in his hand and then he ran it down my cheek as a wicked grin spread across his face.
I don’t know how it happened, how I found the strength within my self, but the next thing I knew, we were tumbling over the side of the bed. He landed with a thump, the air was forced from his lungs, hitting the side of my face with a sticky heat. My stomach churned and I knew I was going to vomit. Somehow, I managed to hold it down as I wrapped my hand around his. There was barely a struggle as I pushed the muzzle of the gun into his stomach and curled my finger around the trigger. I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I pulled without even flinching. His eyes went wide as he tried to pull his arm back and away from his body. I went limp, my dead-weight pinning his arm down. I pulled again, unsure if it would fire once more. I didn’t know a thing about guns, but I prayed that it wasn’t one that I would have to cock again, or whatever. Another shot rang out, only slightly muffled by my body. A searing pain burned into my skin where the gun was trapped between us and without warning, I jerked away from him, pulling the gun from his grasp as I did.
Before I could get my bearings straight, I was pulled up by my hair. Then I was flying across the room, my mind spinning just as much as the world around me. My shoulder collided with the corner of the bedside table before I hit the floor with a hard whack. The gun got lost somewhere in the shuffle. I went for the knife that I had right there in the same bedside table that has just wounded me. I ignore the pain and I ripped the drawer out, its contents spilling all around me. A bible. A pen. A phone book.
Who the fuck has phone books anymore?
And my knife.
I snatched it up and staggered to my feet. I only got halfway up before I was roughly flung into the wall.
“I’ll kill you for this,” one of them said. The one that came into the room first. The one that had been watching me from the shadows.
My hand reared back. Then plunged forward, ripping and tearing through skin and muscle. I dragged it sideways with all my might and his roaring growl rang out beside my ear as his body doubled over onto me. I pushed him off of me and he fell against the wall. It only took him a moment to regain himself and stand tall, blood literally gushing from a ten-inch gash on his side.
I had no idea why, but I went for his eye next. I didn’t stop pushing until all six-inches of the blade where buried deep into his skull, the color of his iris no longer visible. His body staggered backward but the blade remained in my tight grasp. I knew it was there, pushed just against the bolster, but I didn’t dare look. The sick wet sound of it ripping away from the socket was enough to have me doubling over and dry heaving for a good long second. I didn’t want to throw up and it wasn’t like I really had time to anyway. There was still one more man there.
I wasn’t going down like this.
I’d worked too long—too hard, for it to end this way.
I was going to save Allison.
An odd sort of calm washed over me and I raised my gaze to the big one.
“Let’s play, kitten,” he said as if the death stare I held on my face was nothing more than a joke to him.
It wasn’t to me.
Instead of rushing at him with all my determination to make it out of this room, I waited. It was his move. I figured that was the smartest thing to do right then.
He raised his gun that I’d just noticed he had. It shouldn’t have taken me off guard but I guessed since I hadn’t seen it then I hadn’t thought about him having one. However, he didn’t aim it at me. He fired, his eyes still locked on mine as he started in my direction. The gun had been aimed too low and to the side to be anywhere near hitting me. I flinched but didn’t cower. There was a grunt from the guy I’d pretty much gutted. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the moment his body went limp from the bullet that bore into his skull right between his eyes.
I had one shot at this but I didn’t have the first clue how I should make my move. Or even what kind of move to make. He stalked closer, the sinister gleam in his eyes shooting a paralyzing shiver of fear down my spine.
My knees bent. My arm raised. The knife ready to stab in the blink of an eye. I pounced the moment he was close enough but he anticipated my move and with one swing of his arm, he flung me to the side. I was on the floor again. The knife knocked from my grasp and sliding somewhere into the dark depths under the bed.
“There’s nowhere to go, little girl,” he said deep and threateningly.
Why I reached for my pants, I had no idea. It certainly wasn’t to put them on even though I desperately wanted nothing more than to cover as much of myself as I could. But there wasn’t time for that. If I got the opening to, you’d better bet that I’d run my barely covered ass right out of this room. Instead, I dug into my back pocket and snatched my phone.
