The Laughing Corpse - Laurell K. Hamilton [122]
He nuzzled my neck, face buried in my hair on the left side. Now or never. I pulled with everything I had and the right wrist popped free. I froze. Surely he’d felt it, but he was too busy sucking on my neck to notice. His free hand massaged my breast.
He had his eyes closed as he kissed to the right side of my neck. His eyes were closed. The knife was loose in his other hand. Nothing I could do about the knife. Had to take the chance. Had to do it.
I caressed the side of his face, and he nuzzled my hand. Then his eyes opened. It had occurred to him that I was supposed to be tied. I plunged my thumb into his open eye. I dug it in, feeling the wet pop as his eye exploded.
He shrieked, rearing back, hand to his eye. I grabbed the wrist with the knife and held on. The screams were going to bring reinforcements. Dammit.
Strong arms wrapped around Tommy’s waist and pulled him backwards. I grabbed the knife as he slid to the floor. Wanda was struggling to hold him. The pain was so severe, it hadn’t occurred to him to go for his gun. Putting out an eye hurts and panics a lot more than a kick to the groin.
I cut my other hand free and knicked my arm doing it. If I hurried too much, I’d end up slitting my own wrist. I forced myself to be more careful slicing my ankles free.
Tommy had managed to get free of Wanda. He staggered to his feet, one hand still over the eye. Blood and clear liquid trailed down his face. “I’ll kill you!” He reached for his gun.
I reversed my grip on the knife and threw it. It thunked into his arm. I’d been aiming for his chest. He screamed again. I picked up the chair and smashed it into his face. Wanda grabbed his ankles, and Tommy went down.
I pounded at his face with the chair until the chair broke apart in my hands. Then I beat him with a chair leg until his face was nothing but a bloody mess.
“He’s dead,” Wanda said. She was tugging at my pants leg. “He’s dead. Let’s get out of here.”
I dropped the blood-coated chair leg and collapsed to my knees. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. I was splattered with blood. I’d never beaten someone to death before. It had felt good. I shook my head. Later, I’d worry about it later.
Wanda put an arm over my shoulders. I grabbed her around the waist, and we stood. She weighed a lot less than she should have. I didn’t want to see what was under the pretty skirt. It wasn’t a full set of legs, but for once that was good. She was easier to move.
I had Tommy’s gun in my right hand. “I need this hand free, so hold on tight.”
Wanda nodded. Her face was very pale. I could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. “We’re going to get out of this,” I said.
“Sure,” but her voice was shaky. I don’t think she believed me. I wasn’t sure I believed me.
Wanda opened the door, and out we went.
37
THE HALLWAY WAS just like I remembered it. A long stretch with no cover, then a blind corner at each end.
“Right or left?” I whispered to Wanda.
“I don’t know. This house is like a maze. Right I think.”
We went right, because at least it was a decision. The worst thing we could do was just stand there waiting for Gaynor to come back.
I heard footsteps behind us. I started to turn, but with Wanda in my arms, I was slow. The gunshot echoed in the hallway. Something hit my left arm, around Wanda’s waist. The impact spun me around and sent us both crashing to the floor.
I ended up on my back with my left arm trapped under Wanda’s weight. The left arm was totally numb.
Cicely stood at the end of the hallway. She held a small caliber handgun two-handed. Her long, long legs were far apart. She looked like she knew what she was doing.
I raised the .357 and aimed at her, still lying flat on my back on the floor. It was an explosion of sound that left my ears ringing. The recoil thrust my hand skyward,