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Jock clicked the safety on and off on the gun, gazing at me, before he ordered in a low, ugly tone, “Get the fuck over here. Keep your hands up.”
Walking toward him, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I stumbled a little, causing Jock to laugh. Still, it worked out in my favor when Jock tucked his gun away as I approached. I didn’t even flinch when he caught me by the arm and shoved me against the railing, though I cried out when he grabbed my hair and forced my head down.
“I should get some right here and now,” Jock growled. Panic fought to rise up, and my vision blurred, my mouth stained metallic as I tasted blood. I must have bitten my tongue. “I want to hear you scream for mercy. I deserve it for all my fuckin’ overtime. But cuz’ would have my head.” He let go of my arm, keeping his grip on my hair as he hauled me toward the stairs,still talking as though we were having a pleasant conversation. “So, did Michaelson fuck you yet?”
“Yeah,” I blurted out, and Jock’s grip loosened in surprise.
Instinct took over, and before Jock could recover, my elbow smashed into the center of his face. He let out a howl of pain. I went for his gun, but Jock was already proving he was far superior to the other two men, even though neither of those guys had been slouches. My wrist was batted away as Jock went for it, and stars of pain burst across my vision. It was by sheer luck that my body moved, and my leg kicked out, hitting his right arm as he grabbed for it.
The gun spiraled through the air and went over the railing, landing on the ground below with a clatter.
“You stupid bitch,” Jock spat and took a swing at me, which I barely dodged. “If that broke, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
The cold look in his eyes told me he already knew how he’d kill me, too. I tried to punch his temple but he knocked my fist away with ease and anticipated my kick. Hopping backward, I parried several blows from him – exhaustion beginning to catch up with me.
That caused Jock’s eyes to gleam — a predator sensing weakness.
But it also gave me an opening as he grinned and rolled his shoulders, pausing to look me over. In that brief instant, I landed a flat hand on his sternum, causing Jock to gag and choke, going down on one knee. When I tried to bring my knee up, he threw me to the side and then tried to pounce, forcing me to roll over backward.
The walls and floor swung around a bit and I shook my head, trying to chase away my disorientation, when Jock threw a punch that I barely managed to deflect with my hands. My palms stung as I hopped backward, trying to stay light on the balls of my feet. My muscles felt heavy, and I was moving too slow. I was losing.
No, it can’t end like this.
Jock knew it, too. He was toying with me, laughing at me and then, to add insult to injury, he held up his hands. “Listen, answer this question honestly and I’ll let you go.” The wicked smirk on his face telling me there’s no way he would ever let me go. “You delete that shit from Weiss’s laptop?”
I couldn’t help it — a nervous, semi-hysterical laugh broke out of me.
Jock didn’t realize that fear had caused me to laugh like that and his eyes narrowed, real rage coming over his face. He charged at me, bellowing like a bull and I skittered out of the way like a scared rabbit. Adrenaline refueled my exhausted muscles but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Even as I dodged his hands, he lunged and managed to get my elbow, trying to throw me into the wall. Itried to charge back at him and ended up causing us both to slam into it.
Jock shook the fall off but it almost knocked the wind out of me. I had to jerk backward, trying to use my smaller stature and speed against him. He still managed to punch me in the side, and I almost went down but dodged his grabbing hand.
“Will you stay still?” he roared and threw out a bad punch. I took advantage of it to hit the heel of my palm on Jock’s nose again. There was another crunch and Jock let out a grunt of pain, his eyes beginning to tear.
I hesitated, breathing hard and wobbling a little. I was scraping the bottom of the barrel of my endurance. The house seemed to spin around me and I almost missed it when he pulled out a knife with a crazed look in his eyes.
“You’re not the only one who knows how to fake someone out,” Jock said and swiped at me. A cry of pain escaped me as red-hot pain lanced across my shoulder, and I stumbled back, pressing a hand against the cut. It was now or never — I had to end this.
“I’m going to fucking gut you and bring you back to Caleb in pieces, I’m—”
As Jock went to stab me again, I ducked under his arm and grabbed his forearm while landing an uppercut on his diaphragm then on his throat. Again, Jock gagged and gasped for air but still tried to swing for my throat.
I had to use his strength against him, and taking an enormous risk, I wound my leg around his and shoved backward. I wanted to knock him into the railing and put him in a chokehold — it was my only chance.
Except Jock crashed into it at a far higher angle as he tried to fight back and I gasped, jumping backward. At the same moment, Jock turned and whipped a knife at me. I heard the whine by my ear, and my cheek stung.
He let out a snarl of triumph, grinning at me but then it turned into disbelief. Jock’s throw meant he’d twisted more into the railing, and he was going over it, limbs flailing.
And then there was a terrible, final thud.
Slowly, I reached up to feel the hot blood on my cheek and then glanced at the blade still quivering in the wall next to me.
As though I was swimming through honey, I took a shaking step forward, then another, before I made it to the railing and peered over. Jock laid at an awkward angle on the floor below, his head twisted at a strange turn and his eyes staring into nothingness. A dark shadow was growing around him, and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was blood.
Oh my god.
I stumbled backward, and my back hit the wall where I slid down to the floor, breath sawing in and out of me.
I think I killed him.
