Page 72 of Wrecked

Dennis gave him his attention again after a second guard showed up in the doorway. He then nodded at the other one to go get it. The guard disappeared and returned holding out a glass of orange juice.

It was fucking glass. Glass that could be broken and become a weapon.

The guy must be new.

Rebel wrapped both hands around the glass just as Dennis cursed.

“Don’t! Fuck!”

The shout came from Dennis, but by that time, it was too late.

Rebel tossed the juice in the guard’s face, tapped the glass on the edge of the coffee table, and had slit the man’s throat before Dennis could even get out of his chair.

The guard at the door raised his gun.

“No, fucking idiot! You kill him and we’re all dead.”

Rebel sliced at the cuffs around his ankle, but they were thick and he only managed to get one off before Dennis charged him.

Oh, that was the wrong fucking thing to do and Rebel almost laughed with glee, but he couldn’t get too cocky.

Not yet.

Using two pieces of the glass, he sliced at Dennis, opening up a long, thick piece of skin on the man’s arm.

“Shit!” Dennis stumbled back and away from him.

Rebel dipped over the back of the couch, dragging the long chain behind him. He dropped the smaller piece of glass and picked up the chain.

The guard circled around the couch.

“Come on, you don’t want to do this.”

Rebel laughed, it wasn’t a joyful sound. “You really don’t know me.”

He lunged, slicing at the guy, and managed to open the man’s palm.

The man leaped back, dripping blood. From his peripheral vision, Dennis was still trying to wrap the throw blanket around the open gash down his arm.

“Back the fuck up,” Rebel hissed, moving toward the lesser threat of the guard.

When the guy hesitated, Rebel went for the fucker’s knife strapped to his thigh.

The guard deflected. They really should have just shot him because they weren’t winning this battle.

Rebel had already made up his mind that he was going to leave this room, this house, or die trying.

Slicing upward, he struck at the man’s chest, opening up the shirt and drawing a line of blood beneath. When the guy stumbled, Rebel used the cuff and chain to clock the fucker upside his head.

That’s when he reached his goal.

Unsnapping the sheath, the knife was in his hand and the man’s throat was slit in seconds.

Rebel spun like a dancer and Dennis stood gazing at him stupidly. The throw blanket was soaked with blood.

Stooping over, Rebel sliced through the other cuff around his leg before facing off with Dennis.

“Have you had enough?” Rebel calmly asked.

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