Page 97 of Pulse
Her eyes flutter closed. Her lifeless body peaceful in my lap as I scream.
My jaw flexes.No. Stay. Fucking. Focused. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“I think you’re going to kill her anyway. If I let you walk out of here, she’s dead. And if I don’t … she’s dead.”
Dahlia cries out, but I ignore it.I have to. I have to get that gun out of his hand.
“So I have a choice to make,” I say, buying time. “Do I let you kill her here or somewhere else? That’s a pretty easy choice.”
He jerks her closer to him. The sight of him touching her makes me sick.
“I’m going to do you a favor,” I say, moving slowly toward them. “I’m going to let you see what it feels like to settle something like a man. You’ve probably never done that before, have you?”
He backs away, confused. His grip on the gun loosens as he tries to wrap his head around what I’m doing.
“It’s better this way,” I say, keeping his attention on me. “If you kill her somewhere else, I’m going to have to expend a lot of energy to find you. That’s just extra locations and more time. Let’s keep it simple.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks.
I lift my gun in front of me, barrel to the water, and drop it unceremoniously. Dahlia cries out again.
Trust me, Doll.
“Let’s settle this here,” I say, edging closer. “Man to man. Hell, you can even keep your gun. That’ll even out the odds a little. You’re obviously feeling yourself today. Your chances are probably as good as they’re gonna get.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks, the gun wobbling.
I leap forward and knock the gun out of his hand. Dahlia screams, her voice piercing the marsh, and Freddy reaches for the gun.
I grab his head by the hair and dunk it underwater. He flails—arms going wild, clawing at me—scrambling to reach any part of me he can.
Fury takes over as I yank him back up. He takes a gulp of air.
“Get a big breath. Don’t pass out yet.” I smack the side of his face. “Stick with me, big boy.”
He gasps just before I sling him underwater once again.
“Oh my God,” Dahlia cries, huddled by the car.
I knee him in the face once, twice, three times. With every hit, he gets weaker.
“Come on, Freddy,” I say, seething. “Back up you go.”
He sputters, sucking air and trying to scramble away.
My fist cracks his jaw. I can feel the bones crumble as I rip the punch through his face.
He gasps, his mouth hanging open, as he takes a punch on the other side of his jaw.
“Fuck you,” I say, hauling him to dry land by the front of his shirt. “You’re nothing but a piece of fucking shit.”
I deposit him on the ground in a lump.
“You were killing bitches today, remember?” I kick him in the ribs. “Where’d that badass go?”
He moans, lying in a lump on the sandy ground.
