Page 105 of How To Catch A Killer … And Date His Best Friend

I let out a heavy sigh, loud enough to catch the guards’ attention. When the door opens, one of them marches in, gun in hand, and his narrow eyes are fixed on me. “What?”

“Do you have any hobbies? You know, apart from getting hard over football?”

His face scrunches, and I peer past him to the warehouse beyond his shoulder, groaning when I hear no signs of gunshots, splintering wood, or Maddox-shaped disasters. “Huh?”

I roll my eyes and relax back into my chair. “Never mind.”

Another twenty minutes pass, and my need to wait it out starts to fade, because if the shoe was on the other foot and one of the boys were in my position, I’d already be busting down the door.

I’m rapidly losing patience, and you bet the boys are going to hear about this.

The guards continue their conversation, and that’s when I realize they’re not even discussing real football. It’s fantasy football. And that right there is the perfect excuse to call it quits.

I adjust my hands behind my back, and within seconds, the itchy rope hits the ground with a soft thud, but it’s loud enough to gain the guards’ attention. The moment their sharp stares shoot toward me, I spring from the hard chair, more than ready to bust my ass out of here, but not before I get payback for the times these assholes put their hands on me.

The guards crowd around me in the cramped room, but they don’t make a move. It’s clear that they don’t have the authority to do a damn thing.

“How . . . how did you do that?” one of them stutters.

I scoff.

“Easy. I’ve had that knot undone for over an hour. Just waiting for the right time.”

“So, you could have just gotten up at any time?” another asks, looking dumbfounded.

“Uhh . . . yeah.”

Complete silence.

The first stuttering guy gapes at me. “Then why didn’t you?”

I shrug, not prepared to tell them that I was waiting for my two heroes to come along and save me so we could fuck in the bloodshed we left behind. “I was simply overwhelmed by your fantasy football teams. It really does it for me, if you know what I mean.”

Their expressions darken, and I roll my neck and shoulders, preparing for what I can only assume is going to be an easy fight. After all, I can’t say I’ve ever had guards pause to ask questions before, but there’s always a first for everything.

“Well,” I say, stretching my fingers out. “It’s been lovely, but it’s time for me to get going now.”

As I step toward the door, one of the guards shifts directly into my path, a sharp glare cutting toward me.

“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” I warn him.

He just smirks, as though truly believing that the three of them are the real threats in the room. I lean back an inch, drop my body, twist, and let my legs do all the work. A beautifully executed butterfly kick sends the guard shooting back against the wall, hitting his head hard enough to knock him out cold.

The other two guards gape for a second before springing into action, but I’ve already beat them to the punch. As the one on the left rushes in, I throw my hand out, catching him right in the throat before sending my elbow straight back and hitting the third in the stomach, watching them both double over.

I linger for a moment longer, watching them cough and sputter on the floor, and I consider taking their guns and ending their lives, but truth be told, they’re just a couple of losers who really have no business being here. I bet some asshole paid them a couple hundred bucks to stand guard for the night, but it’s clear they’re severely out of their depth.

Instead, I just stride out of the small room and into the main warehouse just in time to see Hunter’s Challenger explode right through the old doors, splintering the wood into a million little pieces.

The car stops in the center of the warehouse and they both barrel out, weapons drawn and faces hard, preparing for war. It’s hot, really fucking hot. But I’m pissed.

My heart races, seeing the genuine fear on their faces, but I go right ahead and trample that out of existence. “Where the hell have you two morons been?”

They both freeze, their stares coming to me, but they don’t dare ease up on their weapons.

“What are you talking about, Savage?” Maddox questions, peering past me to the guards laying on the floor, still sputtering.

“I was testing your response time, which was a huge fail by the way. I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour and a half,” I tell them. “Do you have any idea how bored I’ve been? Fantasy football! That’s all I’ve heard about. It’s driving me insane.”