Page 132 of Fish out of Water
“What are you doing?” Vito watched me as I shoved toward the wall. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You better hope not.” I turned to look behind me, making sure the path was clear before launching myself as hard as I could at the cement block wall. The impact was more than I expected it to be and it stole the air from my lungs and sent me tipping toward the ground. The side of my body hit the floor hard. There was no way to stop it from happening. All I could do was keep my head from hitting along with it.
Pain jolted through my shoulder and hip, tunneling my vision. I curled into a ball and rocked as much weight as I could off the spots that would most definitely be bruised as hell tomorrow.
If I made it to tomorrow.
“Julia.” Sylvia’s voice was sharp as I blinked away the haze lingering from the jolt.
“What?” It came out as more of a groan as I stretched my legs, trying to ease the stab cutting into my hip.
“You broke the chair.”
The fog cleared immediately, pushed away by a rush of adrenaline. I lifted my head.
The chair was still stuck to me, but Sylvia was sort of right.
The frame wasn’t completely broken, but I’d done a decent amount of damage to the laddered back, breaking a couple of the rungs enough to create some slack in the tape around my wrists.
I twisted my hands for all I was worth, working them back and forth until I could fight one free, the narrow band of stretched tape cutting into my skin as I pulled it loose.
The second it was out I went to work on my feet, ripping at the wind of silver strapping each ankle to the front legs of the chair.
Then I went straight to Sylvia and started on her feet.
“Leave me. Just get out of here.” She tried to kick at me, but it wasn’t going to stop anything.
She was getting out of here with me.
I had just freed one foot when I heard voices outside the broken windows of the run-down building.
Sylvia looked toward the sound of someone approaching then back at me. “Go.”
The urge to flee was strong, but I couldn’t leave her and Mrs. Sherling.
Vito however, was on his own.
I jumped up and ran, going to the only hiding place in the space, ducking down behind the pile of decaying boxes filled with plumbing supplies stacked in one corner. The door opened and I tucked lower, making sure no part of me stuck out.
“What the fu—” Footsteps raced toward the chair where I left it lying on the floor. “Where is she?”
There was one man who was definitely the ringleader of the group. He was fat and sweaty and one pack of bacon away from a heart attack.
I peeked through a gap in the boxes just as Fat and Sweaty leaned down, going eye-to-eye with Sylvia. “Where is she?”
“Gone. Went on vacation.”
The man snorted. “You think you’re funny.” Without warning he backhanded Sylvia right across the face.
I didn’t mean to jump out of the spot I was hiding in.
I also didn’t mean to grab one of the heavy pipes spilling from one of the degrading boxes.
Fat and Sweaty’s head spun my way as I lunged for him.
Before I could reach him, his eyes bugged out of his head and his whole body dropped to the ground.
At first I thought he’d had that heart attack I knew was coming.
