Page 100 of Close Quarters

Keith gave a good laugh at that. “Yeah, that’s not why.”

“Then why?”

“You’re still talking. Always talking.”

“I’ve been told I do a lot of that.”

“And they’re right. Surprised no one in prison tried to make you use that mouth for something else.”

“I guess it never crossed their minds.”

“Their loss.”

I only had a moment to register what he’d just said before I felt myself spun around and shoved hard into one of the rock walls. Thankfully, I managed not to bounce my head off it, but the air was still knocked from my lungs. Keith stood before me, almost exactly my height, and with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Wha…” I managed to gasp as I was held tight against the rough rock.

“See, I was the one who spotted you two first, before anyone else,” he said, cocking his head. “Told Eddy all about you two…well, not all about you.”

“What?” I asked, fear spiking through my system like a painful drug.

“I didn’t mention how you two got all cozy on that rock. So sweet, hugging him while you watched the fire and talked,” Keith cooed, reaching behind him and pulling out a blade as long as his hand, letting it catch the moonlight. “And you boys didn’t air that tent out. If you think I couldn’t smell what you two did before we came upon you, then you don’t know a damn thing.”

My eyes followed the blade as it moved through the darkness, waving back and forth. I might have been trying to exaggerate how freaked out I was earlier, but I was feeling real terror creep into my throat. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that I’ve been stuck with these assholes for weeks and ain’t had a piece of ass in so long. Thought I might find a way to have some fun with Ol’ Red up there, but honestly, you’re both damn fine,” he said, shoving my arms above my head, my wrists cracking with agony as they slammed into the ridge at the top of the rock.

“Aw fuck,” I groaned. It was my worst nightmare while in prison. There had been a few passes thrown my way, but I always made sure everyone knew I wasn’t interested. And then I’d gone out of my way to make sure I was never caught by myself by guys who were known to help themselves when they pleased. Now, I found myself staring down the barrel of that particular horror. “Don’t.”

“Aww, don’t worry,” he crooned at me. “If Ol’ Red hasn’t blown you out, it won’t take me long. Just want to get mine, and it’s been weeks, so…behave.”

The last word was punctuated by the cold, biting press of the blade against my neck. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, not yet anyway, but the message was obvious all the same. I could only stand there as he leaned in, stealing a kiss from me in the most wretched way possible. My fingers flexed, wrapping around something that fit between my palms, wiggling as my arms shook.

Oh…bad idea, bad, bad, bad idea when this sadist had a knife to my neck. But…fuck it, I was probably going to end up dead if I just accepted everything that was planned for me. At least if I failed this one bad idea, then I’d probably go quick.

I clamped my teeth over his bottom lip, making him hiss in pain. A slice of fire went along my throat, followed by warmth that trickled down as he jerked toward me then back. His mouth curled into a sneer as blood ran from his broken lip, but my grip tightened around the rock, and with a heavy grunt, I slid it forward and brought it down.

I remembered with sickening clarity the sound of the gun slamming into the elderly clerk's head. The jarring sound of metal brutally meeting flesh and bone still occasionally popped up in my dreams, never entirely leaving me free of the guilt. That was nothing compared to the sound of that rock coming down on Keith’s head. I felt something give as rock met skull, and a wet noise dampened the crunch, making my stomach lurch.

Keith stumbled back, his mouth moving without making a sound…at first. Blood trickled down his face, into his brow, and dripped down onto his chin. A wet noise, somewhere between a snarl and a groan, bubbled up in a sickeningly thick way. The moonlight was too strong, and I could see the dent on Keith’s head as he swayed on the spot.

For one horrifying moment, his dazed eyes managed to swivel wetly in their sockets, lock onto mine, and recognize me. Hate and fury I had never seen in another person’s eyes boiled in his gaze, and he took a stumbling step forward, knife coming up.

“Gug,” he choked, and the next noise was the clatter of the knife dropping to the ground.

“No,” I whispered, holding my hands out to ward him off. Deep down, I knew there was nothing left capable of hurting me. I’d hit him too hard, and…oh God, there was a huge dent in the top of his head. But even still, I wanted desperately to push him away, to make sure he couldn’t put his hands on me.

But he did. Just as his knees gave out, his fingers found my shirt and gripped with the strength of the desperate. I wanted to shriek, but all I could manage was a rasping whimper as I pushed myself as far back against the wall as I could manage. He was no longer staring directly at me. His head was lolling back and forth between watery gasps for air.

Keith’s grip tightened as he pitched backward, and I felt rather than heard my shirt tear as he collapsed. I stood there, staring at his blood-smeared face, the moonlight making the crimson utterly black. His lips and fingers twitched spasmodically for several seconds, his legs kicking. A choking sound bubbled up out of his chest as his fingers splayed out before he finally went completely still.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at his unmoving body with what felt like everything in my chest locked in my throat. At some point, my chest loosened enough that a whine squeezed through my lips as I stared down at him. My eyes drifted to my hands, still clenched around the rock. To my horror, I could see the bottom was wet and dripping. Even worse, there was a chunk of what I hoped was dirt stuck to the bottom but I didn’t examine it, throwing it away from me with a whimper.

“Fuck,” I moaned, putting my hands to my face and squeezing. My nails bit into my skin, and I welcomed the pain. My face was wet, and I wiped furiously at it with the back of my hand only to realize it was tears. “Wait…what?”

I stared at my hands, spreading them apart and realizing they were free. I had no idea where it had gone, but the zip tie was no longer around my wrists. Vaguely, I remembered joking around months ago with Dom, who had tried to teach me how to break out of zip ties since that was apparently how he managed to escape police custody after getting caught breaking into a store.

“Just bring your arms up like this, elbows together,” he’d told me, demonstrating with a tie we’d nabbed from the supply shed around his wrists. “And bring your arms down fast, snapping your elbows apart.”

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