Page 33 of The Pleasure of Panic

Just as the thought forms in my head, she leaps. Fuckin’ knocks me down and chops my throat again.

This time I don’t recover so fast. I can do nothing but roll over and wheeze as I try to draw in air.

“Stay down, Agent,” she hisses, searching my pockets, then backing away.

I don’t answer. Can’t answer. I don’t know how long I stay there, on hands and knees, my forehead pressed into the dirty wood floor as I try to remember what it’s like to breathe, but it’s a while.

During the time I’d like to say I got my act together. That I didn’t just allow a woman who barely comes up to my shoulders to take me down in the span of three minutes… but I’d be lying.

Because by the time I can breathe, she’s got my hands zip-tied behind my back and she’s sitting on top of me, pushing my face into the floor as she leans down into my ear to hiss, “You’ve got ten seconds to start talking, asshole. Or I will knock you out, break a window, climb through it, steal your car, and leave you here to stew in your own stupidity until your friends come save you.”

CHAPTER NINE - ISSY

“I’m supposed to protect you, Issy! I’m your goddamn bodyguard!” he yells. Well, it’s not a yell because he can barely manage to get the words out.

“Bodyguard.” I laugh, but get up off him and start pacing the room. “You’re obviously not my bodyguard, because I neither asked for, nor do I require, a bodyguard.”

“I swear,” he gasps. “That raid was real. That terror threat was real.”

“Bullshit! I have nothing to do with that!”

“Right, Einstein.” He chokes out a laugh. “You were set up. We explained this to you earlier.”

“You told me you were part of the game!” I yell.

“No,” he says, finally starting to breathe normal again. “You said I was part of this stupid sex game you’re playing. I just went along.”

“Fucking liar! Caleb sent you, didn’t he?”

“Who?”

I kick him in the ribs. Hard. “Don’t play stupid!”

“I swear,” he says, rolling over a little so he can look up at me. “My badge is in my front pocket.” He nods his head towards his jacket, which I didn’t search when I found the zip ties.

“Make one move and—”

“I’m fucking zip-tied, Issy! Don’t be an asshole. Just get my badge. I’m telling the truth!”

I do a quick pat down on his coat pocket and—fuck. I can feel what’s probably a wallet. I pull it out and yup—one of those leather fold-over things that hold badges. Flipping it open reveals an ID, which does in fact, confirm he’s FBI.

“Shit,” I say.

“Shit is right. You’re gonna be charged for this.”

“Shut up,” I say, pacing. “I need to think.”

“You’re going down for assault with the intent to kill. They’re gonna get you for evading arrest, kidnapping—”

“Kidnapping!” I laugh. “That’s a good one.”

“You’re holding me against my will.”

“I’m holding—You’re holding me against my will!” I yell back.

I stop pacing. He stops struggling and we both just—take a breath. He stares up at me, craning his neck to try to make eye contact.

I wait.