Wednesday, August 11, 2010


Lizzy spit on the man’s shoes. “Go to hell.”
He pulled the gun away from her head. “Don’t fuck with me.” The man struck her on the head with the butt of his gun. Lizzy fell over in her chair and grasped at her head; blood oozed between her fingers. Before she had a chance to do anything, the man pulled her back up and sat her in the chair. “Let me ask you one last time. Where did you hear about this?”
She turned to him and began laughing, even as a small stream of blood ran across the bridge of her nose. The man raised his gun up to hit her again, but as he brought it down, Lizzy ducked out of the way and jabbed him in the solar plex. He hunched over for a second and she took the opportunity to knock the gun out of his hands.
With the man grasping his stomach, she ran over to the nine iron. Her knuckles cracked and the rubber grip imprinted its pattern onto her hand. She raised it above her head and brought it down on the man’s back. He cried out in pain and brought his hand to where the club struck his back. Lizzy swung again, this time connecting with the man’s hand. She heard the bones in his fingers snap.
“You’re gonna need some protection of your own.” She hit him once more, dropped the club on the floor, and walked out of the building.

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