My heart pounds, torn between fear and panic.Do something!
Reed punches like a boxer, going for the face with quick jabs. However, Corbin doesn’t go down, throwing blistering haymakers that would be devastating if they ever landed — the man is huge, but slow.
I get to my feet, looking at the door. I could run.
Reed ducks a punch, countering with a jab to the ribs, but Corbin shakes it off and plasters Reed with a hard uppercut to the chin. He staggers backward, losing his footing, and goes down.
“No!” I scream.
Reed stirs, but shakes his head. “Don’t,” he groans.
Whether his plea is directed at me or Corbin, I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter though — I break for the door.
Corbin gets there first, slamming his hand against it. I punch him in the face, but he just laughs, picking me up by the hips.
“Fuck you!” I shout, punching his back with both fists. Laughing some more, he carries me back to the table and drops me. My ass aches when I land, and the room spins for a second. Then his belt coming loose rouses me, and when my vision clears, I’m looking at the remote control for Reed’s toy — and next to it, his knife.
Corbin sees me going for the weapon and tries to intercede, but I grab the handle and swing it, catching the guard across his chest.
“Fuck!” he roars, stepping back. He looks down at the damage: I’ve cut through his uniform and bitten into the skin. Blood seeps out, and a brown-red stain slowly spreads through his clothes. “You goddamn cunt, I’m going to fuck you to death.”
Holding the knife close to my body, I’m ready to stab or swing. “You want to die, motherfucker? Try me.”
Corbin snarls and starts to move forward. Adrenaline spiking, my mouth’s a sheet of sandpaper. I’m ready to sink this blade into Corbin’s throat, but just as I’m about to strike, Reed rises up from behind, wrapping his arm around Corbin’s neck.
“It’s okay!” Reed shouts. “I got him.”
Corbin’s leg gives out, dropping the big man to a knee, but he still pulls at Reed’s arm, trying to dislodge it.
“Stop it, asshole, it’s over,” Reed says, struggling to maintain his hold.
Corbin seethes. “I’m going to fucking-”
He never finishes his threat. His eyes bulge out as an empty wheeze escapes his lungs. Looking down, he sees the knife. I’ve buried it in his chest, all the way to the hilt.
“Oh god,” he sputters.
“No!” Reed screams as I pull the knife out and jam it in again. He lets go of Corbin, letting the man collapse.
I back away, watching as Reed turns Corbin over, pressing his hands against the man’s chest. Blood pours out from the cut and stab wounds, and after a second, Corbin stops moving. He gazes up at the ceiling, unblinking. His jaw hangs open as the red puddle around him grows.
“Quinn… what the fuck?”
My chest heaves and my body shakes, and I think I might throw up, but I don’t care. “I did what I had to. I fought back.”
Chapter 19
This is bad. This is really fucking bad. A nightmare. Mauling Judge Jefferson and nearly strangling him to death was bad enough — Byron’s planned punishments haven’t even been fully meted out. Today was supposed to be the first day of an entire week of torments. What’s Byron going to do now?
I get up, backing away from the body. Quinn stares at it, her hands shaking. What is she thinking? Is she as close to throwing up as I am? I’ve never seen a freshly murdered corpse before. Is she enjoying the sight of her work, her blood cold and full of hate? She’s come a long way since Lance’s accident. If he hadn’t fallen out that window, would she have pushed him and finished the job? After what I’ve seen this week, I don’t think it’s an unreasonable question.
Quinn pulls the knife out of Corbin’s chest and jams it in his neck — just for good measure, I guess. The man’s fucking dead. His blood’s everywhere. The coppery smell mixes with our odors of sweat and sex, and I retch. I doubt I’ll ever forget the smell.
Finally something clicks in my head — the security camera. Someone could be — probably is — watching. Byron may have contacted Edwin and Hunter, they could be on their way here now. I spring forward, grabbing Quinn by the wrist. I squeeze it until she screams in pain, dropping the knife. Kicking the weapon away with a heel, I grab her other arm and walk her back to the dungeon wall.
“What the fuck?” she yells.
Pinning her with my body, I lock her wrists into a pair of steel shackles built into the wall.