Page 56 of Lethal Attraction

As I pinpoint the exits and plan our best route of escape, Reed is oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere as he nips along my flesh. I gasp when he bites a tender spot, causing specks to dance in my vision.

I place my hands on his cheeks and push him back until our noses brush. “You’re so perfect. Wait here for me, okay?”

His brow furrows. “Okay? Where are you going?”

Not far, my pet.

“Lady’s room!” I shout over the crowd as I stumble off the dance floor. I bump into a few people, causing a stir as I loudly make my way to the bathroom. It does the trick, because as I near the doors, I see half the bar scowling at me.

Perfect.

Because among that crowd are the three men currently scrounging every booth and table for something that may or may not be shaped exactly like me. One of them makes eye contact with me as I duck into the bathroom, and I take my time.

I step up to the mirror, pull my lipstick from my boot, lean over the sink, and hum to myself as I reapply a layer to my lips. I count down the seconds in my head as I fix my makeup.

Three.

Two.

One.

The door flies open and I whip around, using a hand to cover my chest with a fake gasp that definitely isn’t winning me any Oscars. In the doorway, a big, bearded man glares at me with an ugly snarl. He’s easily over six feet, and built like a biker on steroids.

Easy work.

“Oh, good. You found me. I was getting bored and considering arson.” I shrug innocently with a smirk as I shove my lipstick back into my boot.

The man’s expression darkens. “You think this is funny?”

I glance toward the mirror like I’m considering it seriously. “A little. Have you seen yourself?”

He takes a heavy step forward, shoulders squaring as the swing door glides closed behind him.

I sigh softly, already rolling my shoulders back. “God, and I just fixed my lipstick too.”

There’s a beat where our eyes connect in the mirror. Everything slows as my mirth fades to something chilling. His arm shoots out as if he plans to grab my bicep before I duck and step back, switching our positions so fast he barely has time to blink before I’m on him.

My arms wrap around his thick neck as I use my momentum to kick my boots up onto the wall of the nearest stall. His hands shoot to my wrists, but I’m strangling him so tightly that it’s making a wicked vein pop out on his forehead.

I use my feet to push myself upward until I’m straddling his shoulders and my thighs replace my arms as they squeeze. He doubles over, clawing at my legs hard enough to leave scratches and bruises as I lock my ankles together in an attempt to crush him with pure muscle. My fingers tangle in his hair as I rip his head backward and use it to control him.

“Have you ever watched that movie about the rat in Paris who learns to cook?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer (rude) as his face begins to turn a deep violet shade. He swings us around in an attempt to get me off him, but I hold strong. He’s stumbling around wildly, his hands reaching for anything he can use against me.

I’m enjoying the ride as he falls past a stall door, his knees hitting the tiles roughly. His head hangs over the toilet, and an idea strikes me as I hear shoes scuffing closer to us. Whoever my friend is here with is getting closer, but not before I show him God’s divine light.

Saliva is dripping from his open mouth, and I’m pretty sure I’ve fractured something irreparable within him as his body shakes. He can’t suck in air properly as he gives me a slow, bloodshot stare from the corner of his eye.

I lift my knee high, my brows rising as I smirk. “I wish I had my phone on me. Atlas would eat this shit up.”

I don’t even give him a chance for last words as I bring my boot down with all my strength. The heel dips into the delicate flesh at the back where his poor cerebellum is, crushing it. The sound of his bone jaw snapping, along with the porcelain cracking, makes my smile stretch even further as blood begins to taint the toilet water.

RIP bathroom assassin. You would have loved getting folded by a girl half your size and then drowned in toilet water.

The door swings open, revealing another man. This one is slightly younger with long limbs covered in lithe muscle. He’s tall, but only a few inches above me in height. His eyes widen a little as they ping-pong between the man whose head is still shoved inside the toilet bowl and me.

“Doesn’t anyone know what privacy is?!” I shriek before grabbing the back of Toilet Guy’s shirt and dragging him out of the bowl. Water and blood drip to the floor, soaking my shoes as I shake him around like a rag doll. “We’re fucking busy!”