Page 69 of Lock Me Out

I don’t dare look his way. I don’t trust this guy in front of me. He looks unhinged, and now he knows he’s in this alone.

“Untie them,” I demand, jerking my head in their direction while staring at the sweating man who tried to run Colt down. “George, is it?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. “And you can get fucked, bitch.”

“Things not to say to a woman holding a gun on you,” Nix quips, because even now he has to be a smart-ass and pretend there’s nothing seriously messed up about this situation.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself. But don’t you move,” I warn, backing away from George toward the chairs where the guys are tied up.

“There are knives over there,” Colt tells me, nodding toward a small table under the window. I couldn’t see it from where I was looking in earlier—there are a few of them lined up in a row, telling me how tonight was supposed to end before I got here. I grab one at random, holding the gun in one hand while using the knife on Nix’s ropes.

“How’s it going there?” George asks.

There’s a crazed look in his eyes. He has sweat through his shirt, big dark stains under his arms and around his collar. My gaze keeps moving back and forth between him and the ropes, since I’m afraid I’m going to cut Nix in the process. “Not that easy, is it?” he asks with a snide laugh.

“That’s right, keep talking,” Colt tells him. “Wait until I cut your fucking tongue out.”

“Her hand is shaking. The gun is shaking,” George taunts while I saw at the ropes as carefully as I can, while also trying to move fast. The longer I take, the more of a chance this will end badly.

The damn rope is so tough to saw through, like it’s defying me the harder I try.

“Stop!” Colt barks, making me train my full attention on George, who has crept a little closer.

“Shoot the fucker!” Nix shouts. “Fucking kill him!”

I have to, don’t I? I know I have to.

“She won’t do it,” George predicts, scoffing. “She doesn’t have it in her. She’s a stupid slut, but she’s not a fucking psycho like you two.”

“Do it!” Nix urges.

He’s right. I have to.

But George is too fast. He throws himself across the room, startling me into dropping the knife and fumbling with the gun until it’s too late. He’s already on top of me, knocking me to the floor.

The gun slides away, out of my reach, but it’s the hands he wraps around my neck that are the bigger problem.

I hear Nix and Colt shouting and struggling while I claw at George’s hands, desperate for air as he presses hard against my windpipe. My eyes bulge, and an ugly, croaking noise comes out of me when I open my mouth, fighting desperately to suck in a breath.

His crazed face fills my world when he leans down over me. “Was it worth it?” he demands while the world starts to go out of focus. “Was it? You don’t know how I have dreamed about this! Die, die like my boys died!”

I think I’m going to.

Colt shouts my name while I kick and claw, but it’s no use. I’m too weak. He’s too strong.

He’s killing me.

I’m dying.

Life is slipping away while he shakes me, crushing my throat.

Mom. I’m coming.

All at once, the pressure eases, and I suck in a gulp of air.

The world comes back into focus in time for me to watch Nix hook his hand under George’s jaw and pull it back sharply—before he drags the knife across his throat.

A sudden rush of warmth sprays across me.

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