Page 118 of Female Fantasy
I continue to shake and shudder by Nico’s body, pretending to weep. But from where he’s lying, he can easily see that my face is dry as my vagine during sex with Job.
“What are you doing?” he mouths.
All I can do is wink.
“Get back, girl.” Clarisse shoves me away, using the same rope as before to bind Nico’s ankles.
Good. I hope Nico remembers everything I taught him about escaping from restraints. And he soon proves me a capable teacher. Behind me, Clarisse is ripping duct tape. And Thomas is too busy tearing apart Nico’s backpack to notice anything amiss.
I creep up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.
“What?” He continues rummaging, tossing a pair of Nico’s boxer briefs onto the street.
“S-sir,” I stutter. “There’s…there’s something you should know.”
He turns around then, his face bored. “What is it, sweetie?”
First, I kick him in the balls.
He immediately doubles over.
Next, I crouch and elbow him in the gut.
He tips his head back and howls in pain.
Opening up the perfect opportunity for me to stick my fingers in his eyes.
“Don’t mess with the heroine.” I step on his abdomen as he collapses on the ground. “Or the man she loves.”
I knew my black belt in tae kwon do and those self-defense classes I took at the YMCA after reading the second ATOSAS book would come in handy. At first they were just for fanfic research, but then I really grew to love the feeling of getting stronger, of being able to defend myself from bullies like Kyle. I swore to myself that I’d never feel helpless again. But the last time we crossed paths with Thomas and Clarisse, they tied us up before I had a chance to show off my skills.
Not this time around.
Not with Nico’s life at stake.
The entire thing happens so quickly that Clarisse misses the action, turning around at the last minute and gaping in pure shock. When she sees Thomas doubled over on the sidewalk, clutching his junk, she lets out a shriek so shrill, I think it’s an ambulance siren.
“Baby!” she cries. “What did she do to you?”
She abandons Nico’s half-bound wrists in order to fall over her nearly passed-out partner, fussing over his injuries. While she’s distracted, I use Angel’s key to scoop up the gum she spat on the sidewalk.
And dispose of it in her bird’s nest of blue hair.
“You witch!” she wails, as if I’ve done more damage to her than Thomas. “What did you just do to me? To my hair?!” Clarisse clutches her chest with dramatic flair. “I’ve been hit!” She claws at a nonexistent bullet wound, falling next to Thomas on the sidewalk. “I’ll have to cut it all off!”
I run over Nico, who is already rotating his hands, attempting to loosen his ropes so he can slide his wrists out. Without hesitation, I move to his ankles, freeing his legs from the restraints. We move in tandem, as if our movements are choreographed, rehearsed.
When I’m done, I rip the duct tape from his mouth, wincing at the sound of it tearing away from his flesh.
“Behind you!” he shouts the moment he’s free.
I feel a cold object press against the back of my head.
Slowly, I turn around to face M.C. “the Shrug” Lester.
He’s holding a small pistol, now pointed directly between my eyes.
The worst part?
