Page 96 of Switch
Scotty I presume, straightens.One of his heavy, booted feet lands on my chest.Now I know how those crickets pinned under glass in my high school biology class felt.
What are the chances I’m hallucinating?I could swear the smoke’s gotten thicker.At least I’m breathing it less on the floor.
“You don’t fucking belong here, Fallon.”Eric’s bigger than I remember.Whatever he’s been up to, it helped him pack on muscle.His eyes are black and sharp, shining with hatred.
The oily, slightly manic, too charming grin?That’s the same.
I know I shouldn’t antagonize the psychopath who’s here to kill me.Adrenaline has hijacked my mouth.“You don’t belong here either.”
His face twists into a mask of contempt.
“Mom and Dad’s money was supposed to come to me, you know.They’d cut her out because of all her ‘problems.’If she hadn’t nearly killed me, I’d have everything.When you think about it, Fallon, this is my house, yeah?”
“You didn’t think to let people know you’re alive?If you had, I promise you none of this would have been necessary.”
His boot comes down on my shoulder; a slow, grinding pressure that I’m fighting to wince against.“Not after Marina tried to kill me.It was a near thing, by the way.It took time to recover and time to build up the resources to get proper revenge against my bitch sister.”
“Marina’s dead.”
His expression turns almost sad.“I know.Still bummed.I didn’t get to do it myself, but all’s well that ends well.”
What the hell do I say to that?I don’t want to say anything, because the more time I’m stuck here under some guy’s boot, the more time the fire has to make it up to the second floor.
As I struggle under the powerful strength of a man who’s definitely got more muscle than I do, it hits me: there’s no universe in which Eric lets me leave this house alive.
It’s two against one, and I’m not exactly in peak physical shape.Calling my gym attendance this past year sporadic would be generous.
“Eric, if you wanted the house, you could’ve told me rather than burning it down.Could’ve just come in here and said something.”
He pulls a cloth out of his pocket and holds it over his nose and mouth.The smoke is getting thick.
“Where’s the fun in giving you a quick death when I could take away everything and then watch you die slowly?”
“You really are a fucking psychopath.”
He shrugs.“Not having a conscience comes in handy in my line of work.”
“And what—” My inhale sets off a coughing fit.“What is your line of work?PJ said homeless people in the East End are disappearing.Is that you?”
Eric doesn’t answer right away, but his eyebrows shoot up.“Oh.”He snaps his fingers as if remembering something.“PJ must be that adorable little twunk who’s been putting you on your knees and choking you with his cock, huh?Gotta say, it was a dark day when you disabled my security cameras.You two wereincendiarytogether.The way he’d fuck you into the mattress and then tuck you in like a sad little boy?Priceless.”
I get a flash of the video from my email.Bile rises in my throat at the thought of someone, anyone, especially Eric seeing us like that together.
Eric said the last bit in a sing-song voice that sounds weird as hell on any level, especially since the downstairs of my house is burning, and aside from the cloth on his face, he’s acting as if we’re all hanging out at cocktail hour.
“I knew it.I fucking knew the cameras and the video were your doing.”
“Good, right?”Eric waggles his eyebrows.Asshole’s having the time of his life right now.I refuse to die here under this disgusting asshole’s boot.
“You’re fucking sick.”I glance toward the stairs.“You need to get out of here if you don’t want to die.”
Eric doesn’t look bothered, but Scotty, the other giant boot on my chest, shifts with restlessness.
“It’s fine,” Eric says calmly.“We’ll use the ladder that you so helpfully already hung on the windowsill.”He pauses.“After we kill you.”
I struggle harder, pushing at the back of Scotty’s tree-trunk leg.If I can get his knee to bend or even twist his ankle, I might get an opening to roll out from under him.But Scotty doesn’t budge, and Eric only laughs at my struggle.
My reprieve comes a few seconds later.Eric’s laugh is cut off by an angry yell.Both boots ease off my chest, and I gasp for breath when I hear someone growl, “I’ll fucking kill you.”
