Page 277 of The Reluctant Hero

He gently sets the hammerhead of the baton on top of my foot. The cold makes my toes curl defensively. The doom feeling spreads down my ribs.

“How does your father do with torture?” He asks me mockingly.

“He’s been married to my mom for a while, so I’d say he’s getting by.” My voice comes out calm while I stare at the metal against my pale skin. I move the card around and start bending out all of the different tools.

He lets out a sharp bark of laughter that makes me jump in surprise. His hand goes to my shoulder, squeezing gently as if he’s giving me moral support. I don’t look up, too busy focusing on getting my impromptu weapon ready. My hair has fallen forward, covering my determined expression.

“I like you—not enough to stop, but I want you to know I’m not going to enjoy this.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I shrug my shoulder to get his hand off me. This guy is as psycho as South. He’s just playful with it instead of getting the job done. I take it back. South wouldn’t have called anyone. Gabe would have gotten pieces of me in the mail until he gave up some cash.

“Let’s start at ten million.”

I scoff at the amount. “The fuck? He freaked overthreemillion. Did my stock price go up?”

“Now, Amanda,” he brings Jakob up to press it under my chin, snapping my mouth closed and tilting my head back. “You know there’s so much more than that missing. You could tell me where it is and spare yourself. If not, your life is in Mr. Matthias’ hands.”

“So we’re both screwed.” I grit out through clenched teeth.

“If I were you, I’d start praying for a different outcome,” he pats my shoulder, taking Jakob away from my face.

Screw praying. I’m doing this myself, old testament style.

All of the pieces are shifted out. I can hold onto the thin card piece left with the ‘weapons’ poking out from in between my fingers. I don’t know how much damage I can get out of one swing. Maybe I can shock him enough to drop Jakob and regain a little control. I won’t get very far with my ankles taped, but it’s better than watching this play out his way.

Instead of trapping it between my fingers, I brace the bottom edge of the card with my palm. I need as much length togo into his neck as possible, or this will be a bust, and I can kiss my ass goodbye.

“Now.” He’s still leaning over, close to my face. I can see his neck clearly as he turns his head toward the phone. He starts talking about which body parts he’s going to focus on breaking like he’s giving a dissertation. He’s not paying attention to me anymore.

“Hey,” Brass says warily.

Now or never.

I yank my arms apart, the pain of the tape ripping from my skin a distant sting. I punch up with my hand, standing up to add as much force as I can to the hit. An openhanded uppercut. With my body weight behind it, there should be enough. I hope.

I hit his neck and continue with my upward momentum. Follow through. Hit like you’re trying to take his head off. Dad’s rules.

Two pieces snap off immediately, bouncing to the floor with a thin tinkle of metal on stone. The arrowhead braced by my thumb sinks in until the bottom piece of the card gets bent from the pressure. My hand glances off his jaw until I’m standing like I finished a baton routine.

“Run!” Cade yells just as pandemonium breaks out.

New Guy staggers, reaching up to his neck and yanking the pieces out. A surprising amount of blood follows.

Brass is stuck recording like he’s a cameraman. Loudmouth rushes me and punches me in the stomach. I double over, my body confused by the sudden need to throw up or breathe. When it can’t decide what it needs more, my back hits the chair, toppling me over and ripping my ankles free. I belly-flop onto the floor without any resistance.

I’m stunned for a second before I gag. I roll away from him, trying not to curl up and leave myself vulnerable. Getting to my knees has never been this difficult.

The chair gets thrown out of the way as he advances.

“I think he’s dying, man!” Killmefirst screams in panic.

Here’s hoping.

A heavy hand grabs my bicep to yank me around. I had finally made progress in getting up, and the grab has me twisted until I land painfully on one ass cheek.

Loudmouth is bent down to my level, opening his lips to yell at me.

I don’t think. My body moves without prompting. My left hand curls into a fist as I follow the twist toward his body. I punch him right in the balls.

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