Russo went for the gun on the floor. I kicked it away. He swung and I dodged. Mateo headed to the keypad.
“¡Dios mío! Which button?” he asked, looking at the number pad.
“The red one!” I cried as Jude found his footing again and came at Russo, but Russo easily shoved him back to the ground.
Russo swung. I ducked and kicked, my heel hitting his leg.
“¡Se fue al garete!” Mateo said. “Something is wrong.” He was smashing all the buttons on the pad. Jude scrambled up, and Russo hit him again, sending him to the ground.
“I took out the battery,” Russo said with a sly grin as he came for me. I slid past, jumped on the empty chair, and crawled on Russo’s back, sweeping my arm around his neck. In seconds, I’d gotten him in a vise grip that, as I twisted, would cut off his air supply. He swung back and forth, his hands clawing at my forearms. I let him. I wasn’t letting go.
“Now who goes ‘night night’?” I growled as I kept squeezing.
“Kid—” he managed to growl. His silly, patronizing tone still in place.
“Don’t…” I panted, “call… me…” I squeezed harder. “Kid!”
I could feel the air leaving his body. Could feel him trying to suck in more, but I wasn’t letting him. He fell to one knee. Then another. I found my footing again and engaged all the muscles in my arms. They burned with effort, screaming at me to let go. But I wouldn’t. We were both on the ground then, but I wasn’t letting go. Russo kicked, and flailed his arm, trying to grab my hair or anything else. His fingers failed to grasp anything but air, and he was getting weaker by the second. His body went limp, and I kept my hold.
A few more seconds and he’d never move again.
“Ella?” The voice sounded distant, like it was coming to me from the end of a bad connection in an underground tunnel. “Ella?”
Russo wasn’t moving. I wasn’t about to let go.
“Ella. He’s out. Let him go.” It was Jude. Voice of reason. Voice of fairness. Voice of moral clarity. It cut through my furious fog. “You don’t want to kill him.”
I did though. Karma’s power ran through my arms, demanding to be unleashed.
“Ella.” I looked up at Jude. Good, honest, law-abiding, rule-follower Jude. He was gingerly holding his own injured arm. His puppy-dog eyes held fear. I didn’t like that, making him afraid.
It uncoiled something in me.
I let Russo go.
He slumped to the ground, and I stood up, shaking my quivering arms. I didn’t bother to check for a pulse, but Jude scrambled down, pressing his fingers against the man’s neck.
And then Russo came to, or maybe he’d never been out in the first place, because he grabbed the knife near him on the floor and pressed it against Jude’s neck as he got slowly to his feet. Jude straightened up, too, arms raised in surrender.
I was ready to attack, but Russo’s voice stopped me cold.
“Back up, or I kill him,” Russo said, tone cold, as he pressed the blade against Jude’s throat. Jude kept very still. Russo got to his feet, tugging Jude closer.
I froze. Jude’s eyes grew wide in fear. Russo’s eyes were cold and emotionless.
A hard knock rapped against the door.
“Hello? I brought a hot dish!” came the voice of Tammy. I remembered belatedly that Ted told us she might be coming by. I didn’t realize it would be this late. Russo pulled Jude to him, but Jude’s foot knocked the chair, sending it clattering to the floor. “Ope! Everything all right in dere?”
I took the moment of distraction to grab Russo’s arm, pulling the knife downward. It clattered to the kitchen tiles.
“Tammy!” I shouted. “Get help! Call Oscar!”
I kicked the knife. It slid across the floor, handle first.
“Wait! I found a gun!” Mateo called and picked it up by the forefinger and thumb. “This is different from a prop gun,” he said, studying it.
“Toss it to me!” I begged.
