Page 45 of Two Kinds of Stranger

‘Whoareyou?’

‘We’re going to be watching them closely. You need to back off,’ said Lake.

Cross blinked his eyes, lazily, and Bloch realized it was the first time she had seen him blink. Those black eyes stared out constantly. Alive and full of wickedness.

His lips curled a little at the edges, not a smile, but more of a sketch of a smile drawn from distant memory.

‘You’re not police. What are yournames?’ asked Cross.

‘You don’t know us. We know you. Back off from the lawyer,’ said Lake.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Cross innocently, but that strange smile on his lips betrayed the statement.

They all stood in heavy silence for a moment. None of them moved. Lake had been right. Cross didn’t scare easily.

That smile on his face broadened, as if an evil thought played out in his mind.

‘Oh, wait. I know who you’re talking about now. Kevin, yeesssss. Oh, I have no interest in him. Or his bitch wife, but. . .’

Bloch dropped her right foot behind her. A fighting stance. Her muscles tight. She could feel her heartbeat quicken.

‘. . . thedaughter, Amy. Yeah, Ilikeher. I think she likes me too. . .’

Cross’s gaze switched from Lake, to Bloch.

‘. . . I think Amy and I could have a lot offuntogether. . .’

One moment, Bloch stood very still. The next moment, the sole of her right boot hit the front door parallel with the security chain, her weight and momentum busting the chain housing free from the frame, wood splintering. The door swinging open knocked Cross off his feet, flat on his back.

Black eyes wide open.

Bloch was still moving, dropping to her knees, instinct and training taking over.

She trapped his left wrist with both hands, kicked her feet out to land on her butt, with legs over Cross’s torso. Her heels dug in, dragging her tight against him. Her left leg went across his body, keeping him on the floor, her right leg covered his face, pinning him down. She gripped his wrist tightly, and leaned back. His arm was trapped across Bloch’s body, his elbow at her waist and she held his wrist centered in her chest.

She arched her spine, the back of her shoulders hit the floor.

‘Bloch!’ cried Lake.

She engaged her core muscles.

Cinched the hold.

‘Don’t do it!’ cried Lake.

She drove her hips toward the ceiling.

Hard to tell which bone fractured first as Cross’s arm bowed, sickeningly, in the wrong direction.

Most certainly the lateral and medial epicondyle, then the radial head. Like a twig being snapped in the middle.

Bloch heard the bones cracking, cartilage snapping like a whip, and pushed harder, twisting her body away from Cross, making sure to tear his shoulder out too.

Cross let out a high-pitched scream, like a deer caught in a steel trap.

And then another voice. Lake was screaming at her.

‘Bloch!’