Page 70 of Targeted By Desire

I didn’t have time to ponder over the thought with his belt crushing my windpipe. I swung my foot back, driving my heel straight into his shin.

The impact forced him to step back, but his grip remained tight. “Come on, Agent,” he taunted, using his body to shove my hips against the counter, trapping me between it and him. “You can do better than that.”

My vision started to blur as I blindly patted around the counter, searching for a weapon. The sharp edge of my corkscrew brushed against my fingertips. I felt my way up to the handle, grabbed it and shoved the sharp tip backwards - straight between into his ribs.

A grunt left his lips as his hold finally loosened.

I pulled the belt off of my neck and sucked in a breath of air. I held on to it as I turned around, cocked my leg up and kicked him straight in the stomach.

He stumbled backwards, landing with a thud against my island counter behind him. The moonlight beaming through the windows illuminated the wicked grin on his face. “There you go,” he encouraged, yanking the corkscrew out. A small circle of red bloomed on his white shirt. “I knew you wouldn’t go down that easily.”

“Crazy motherfucker,” I muttered as I took off towards the kitchen doorway. The last place I put my gun was in the compartment of the coffee table in the living room. If I could get to it, I could put a bullet in this madman’s head.

Fingers laced through my bun and gripped up the braids inside.

I shrieked as he pulled me backwards. I half-expected to meet his body midway through the fall. Instead, I fell straight on the floor.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said, shaking his head as he stalked towards me. “Where did you think you were going?”

I pushed myself up on my elbows and scooted backwards. My head quickly hit the lower cabinets, another dead end. I needed to get out of this tiny ass kitchen.

I looked up at Mateo as he towered over me, grinning in delight. I gave him a devious smile of my own - then, I kicked him right in the crotch.

“Shit!” He yelled as the sole of my foot hit his dick. Looks like he didn’t have all his fancy armor tonight.

I scrambled up onto my feet as he hunched over, clutching himself.

I ran out of the kitchen and into the living room. I tore out the lid of the compartment underneath the main surface of the coffee table. My fingers wrapped around the cold metal and yanked it out.

I flicked off the safety as I held it up in front of me. I stared at the doorway from which I’d come, listening for even the smallest movement. My heartbeat thudded in my ears, rapping to a mix of adrenaline and fear. “Mateo,” I sang. “Come on! I’m ready to play now!”

His chuckle echoed through the room, making me do a double take of every single inch. “Are you sure? You remember what I said about gun play, didn’t you?”

“Of course. It’s your favorite.”

“Sure. But do you know why?”

I shook my head. “You didn’t say.”

“Because I don’t miss.” Silent bullets followed his voice, the sound of gunshots replaced by cracking glass and collapsing wood as they sailed through the furniture.

“Fuck!” I swore as I ducked for cover behind the couch. I lay low on the floor, avoiding any strays that made it through the fabric. Bullets ripped through the cushions, sending snowflakes of white feathers flying everywhere.

I listened for each thud, trying to time the end of his trigger spree.

After a moment of no sounds, I peeked around the couch and saw him crouching near the doorway. His eyes were bouncing between the snowstorm of fluffs, searching for any indication I was still alive.

I pulled my gun and shot at his ass, giving him plenty.

He immediately pulled back, disappearing behind the doorway.

I ceased my fire. I was not about to ruin the walls. The living room furniture has endured more than enough damage.

“Hey, new rule,” I shouted. “We don’t fuck up my house!”

Only silence responded.

Brows pinched, I peeked around the couch again. I didn’t see any movement near the doorway. Not even a shadow near where he once hid.