“Well,” he says. “What do we have here?”
I slip my hand into my pocket, trying to be casual about it, like I’m just nervous and fidgeting instead of actively reaching for my phone. I grip it.
Mathis stalks toward us, each step controlled and deliberate. Nothing like the twitchy man from a few seconds ago.
“To what do I owe this visit?”
Griffin’s eyes dart around the hallway. I can see him calculating distances—to me, to his duffel bag halfway down the hall, to Mathis and the front door behind him.
“Health inspectors,” Mathis says, rolling the words around like he’s tasting wine. “I must admit, your acting needs work.”
Mathis takes another step toward us, and Griffin’s hand shoots out, catching my shoulder and pulling me behind him.
“How sweet,” Mathis purrs. “The hero protecting his damsel. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve saved me? Usually, I have to hunt for my couples. But you served yourselves up.”
My blood turns cold.
“We’re not together,” I say, stepping out from behind Griffin. “We’re not dating—or anything to each other. He’s just my coworker.”
Mathis tilts his head, and a light sparks behind his glazed eyes. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
My fingers tighten around the phone in my pocket. I take a small step backward, like I’m trying to hide behind Griffin. Let Mathis think I’m scared. Iamscared, but I can also multitask. I inch my phone out of my pocket and angle the screen toward me, straining to enter my password.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mathis says, and my hand pauses on the phone. “Unless you want to watch me redecorate these walls with your boyfriend’s insides.”
“I’m not her boyfriend,” Griffin snaps, his body coiled tight like he’s ready to spring.
“Really?” Mathis takes another step closer, and I swear the air itself recoils from him. If he takes another step, we’ll have to fight past him to reach the duffel bag sitting against the wall. He addresses me, “Then why does he keep putting himself between us?”
Because that’s what decent people do, you absolute psychopath. They don’t let other people get hurt when they can help it.But I keep my mouth shut because antagonizing the serial killer seems like a spectacularly bad idea.
Griffin’s eyes dart to mine for just a second, and I can see the plea in them. He’s going to make a move. I have to be ready to run.
I’d say Griffin could take Mathis—he’s easily twice his size, but if Mathis has unnatural strength…
“Here’s how this is going to go.” Mathis gestures to the stained couch behind us. “You’re both going to sit down nicely with your hands above your heads, and we’re going to have a conversation about love.”
CHAPTER 26
r/Hunting• September 2024
Posted by u/MysteriousGrape1998
How much does getting shot with rock salt hurt a human?
Ok, I know a grand total of nothing about shotguns, but my father-in-law said he uses one to scare away bears that come onto his place, so I was wondering—does anyone know how much a shot of salt would hurt a human?
RageBaitAndTackle9• September 2024
It depends on how close you are. All bets are off if it breaks skin. Once, my cousin shot a coyote with rock salt because it was going after her chickens. She was 10 feet away and thought it would just sting its ass and scare it off. She hit the coyote in the back end. It ran five or six steps and then fell, dead.
Griffin bolts for his duffel bag. Mathis lunges for him but stumbles. He probably expected Griffin to go forhim, not the bag.
By the time Mathis has recovered, Griffin’s out of reach, bag wrenched open, box of salt in his hand. Griffin rips the top off and pours.
The confusion on Mathis’s face is so sudden and jarring, it’d be funny in less terrifying circumstances. A thick, frantic line of salt separates us from Mathis.
And the front door.
