Page 11 of Charity's Redemption

A straightforward job, make him pay… maybe break his dick, then be on my way home. I pressed my ear to his door, checking for movement or the TV. I’d rather it be an unpleasant surprise than a predictable one.

Silence roared in my ears as I pulled out the kit, kneeled down on one knee, and began my work, shoving the rod inside and holding down the pins.

My hands lurched forward as the door swung wide, my tools flying away from my grasp.

A large brown leather shoe stepped before me as I stared at the floor. I followed the thick tree trunk of a leg up to a beer belly in a white undershirt tucked into a pair of plaid boxer shorts.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I chuckled. “Well, this is awkward.”

The black tribal tattoo twisted down the man’s bare arm just as in the picture and wrapped up to his neck, ending in sharpened points. He swung towards me, grabbing a handful of hair as he pulled me inside, and threw me onto the coffee table.

Intense pain mushroomed across my chest as the table leg broke with the force of my body.

Wood splinters, beer cans, and remote controls toppled over me as I laid dazed on the squalid floor, watching fine white powder dust my face. My eyes teared up as the powder settled, burning my eyes and nose.

Oh shit.

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms as my heart took off like a rocket into my throat. Thundering pain pressed against my breastbone as I staggered to my feet, my side aching.

John slammed the door shut behind him, locking him in with me. A slimy smile stretched his lips as he glanced at my wobbling frame.

“That wasn’t very nice, John.” I laughed, rubbing my hand down my face and across my nose.

He stalked towards me like a man on a mission as I braced myself for his impact.

“Well, breaking into a man’s home isn’t either. But I’m glad for the company.” He tilted his head towards the orange checkered couch. “Why don’t you have a seat and spread those pretty legs for me.”

I froze as the hulking man came closer with a fiery temper.

He was big, much bigger than the outdated picture Nico showed me. He must’ve gained at least fifty pounds.

“What a gentleman you are. Your mother must be really proud.”

John lunged at me, swooping his arms together in a massive bear hug, squeezing me tight and slamming our bodies into the wall.

My lungs collapsed in a solid rush as he leaned back and slammed me against the wall, again increasing the pressure from both sides.

I cried out as he squeezed like a snake around my battered ribcage, then used my dangling legs to knee him, but it held no effect against his hulking body.

His large belly pressed into mine, eliminating the possibility of getting any oxygen to my brain.

I clenched my jaw, my nostrils flaring with desperation, then smashed my forehead into his nose.

The sickening crunch of bone against bone fed my bloodthirsty appetite.

He staggered back, holding his nose as I collapsed to my knee like a defeated Superman and dragged in a ragged breath.

“You broke my nose. You bitch.”

His words echoed as he cupped his nose with blood streaming down his forearms.

I’m ninety percent positive Luca would be okay with this amount of blood.

“I think your face is made of stone," I said.

Hauling myself to my feet, I swayed while holding my forehead, then jumped to the side in the knick of time as he lunged at me again.

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