Page 57 of The Art of Dying

“Or what?” Mason asked, confident as I’d ever seen him. “You’re going to kill me?”

Naomi was smug as she approached him and placed her knee on his groin, letting her weight slowly compress his most sensitive parts.

Mason wasn’t emotionless anymore. He was suddenly very uncomfortable.

Naomi ran her hand tenderly over his gelled hair. “No. I’m not. But I promise you, you’ll wish you were dead.”

“Naomi,” I said.

Mason moved his eyes to target me, his head staying stationary.

I slunk back into myself, just that small motion made my skin crawl.

“What?” Naomi asked.

“I’m calling,” I said, walking over to the kitchen phone.

“Not yet,” Naomi said, grabbing a fist full of Mason’s hair and yanking his head back. She leaned in. “This is likely my only chance to question this dumpster fire of a human being. I need some time alone with him.”

“He took off!” Caroline said, jumping and pointing to the window. “He just sped off!”

Mason used the millisecond Naomi was distracted to grab her gun and shove her off him.

Naomi immediately righted herself, but Mason was already pointing her gun at her forehead.

“Mason, don’t!” I screamed, pulling Caroline behind me.

Mason smiled at Naomi. “You’re a problem.”

Naomi grinned. “You have no idea.”

His smile faded. “No fear… you must have something else up your sleeve. The knife? Good luck getting it unsheathed before I hollow out your brain matter and recreate a Pollock painting on the wall behind your head.”

Naomi shook her head slowly.

“You have a second gun?” Mason asked. “Same scenario and unlikely. I’ve been training with Russian assassins longer than you’ve been able to hold a gun. The Russians fight dirty. It’s always a chess match, thinking two steps ahead. There’s nothing you can pull on me that I haven’t thought of.”

A small object flew past my face and then embedded into Mason’s back. Mason froze, and a dark red wet spot on his suit jacket began to spread around the base of the knife’s handle, growing bigger as each second passed.

Naomi’s gun fell from his hand, but she caught it before it hit the floor, immediately taking aim at his face. Mason’s arm fell to his side, and he turned slowly to face me.

“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” Naomi said. She kicked the back of his knees. They gave way, and he hit the floor with a thud, followed quickly by his face.

“Shhh!” I said, waving my hands like a crazy person.

Naomi put her gun away and pointed all her fingers at him. “I can’t make sure he falls quietly, Mack,” she hissed in a yell whisper.

Caroline covered her mouth and began to shake, so I pulled her in for a hug. “Since when do you know how to do that? Since when do you carry a knife?”

“You think John is going to leave me here defenseless?” she said, laughing nervously. “It’s a dark walk home from your house.”

I stared at her, waiting for more.

She shrugged. “It’s a game we play on Sunday nights. I never… thought I’d have to throw one at a person,” she said, defensive.

“Mason?” Naomi leaned over Mason’s body. When he didn’t respond, she slapped his face, hard. “Wake up you piece of shit! I have questions!” she hissed.

She stood up and blew an errant strand of hair from her face, disappointed.

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