Page 91 of Clean Slade
I dragged him out of the room, and only when we reached the living room did I throw him on the floor and kick his head.
“What is going on?” King walked in and froze when he saw the masked stranger in his house. “Wh-who is that?”
The guy charged at me. I put my hands up, and he crashed into them, the effect reverberating through my entire body, including my knee.
Now’s not the time, knee!
He kicked me, but I blocked it with my arm and put my hands around his neck.
“I don’t know. He was in Mac’s room. I think he was trying to take her.”
“What?” King’s face contorted as the man flailed in my hands.
I pushed him against the wall and looked at King.
His lip quivered, his shoulders moved up and down at an alarming rate, and he blinked so fast I thought he was going to pass out.
He looked terrified.
“I don’t know who he is, but…”
The man kicked me in the stomach. It hurt, but it wasn’t strong enough to make me lose my grip.
“Who sent you?” King approached us and shouted in the guy’s face.
The man struggled under my grip but didn’t say anything.
“I said, who sent you?”
The man turned to King and hissed.
“Salieri sends his regards,” he said.
King’s eyes went wide, and his head tilted to the side.
Who the hell was Salieri?
“What?”
Before I realized what was happening, the man kicked me in the balls, and I stumbled backward.
Rookie mistake!
I didn’t lose my footing despite my knee, but it was more than enough time for the masked man to try and escape.
He made a run for it. As he passed by King, King raised his fist. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop. The intruder bent backward, dodging the punch, grabbed King by the waist, and pushed him back.
“Shit,” I spat under my breath and ignored my throbbing body, charging for the guy.
Before I even took two steps, King stomped on his foot, elbowed him in the stomach, and as the man released his grip, King spun him around, pinning the man’s back to his front, wrapping his arm in a chokehold around the intruder’s neck.
I froze, staring at King, unable to believe my eyes.
How had he done that? How could he do such things? And if he could do such things, why had he needed my help in the first place?
“What are we gonna do—” I started when King loosened his grip and snapped the man’s neck.
The intruder fell limp on the floor, giving me a full view of King, out of breath, wearing the loose pajamas that made him look even smaller than he was.
