Page 2 of Pretty Psychos
"Looks like you're outnumbered to me, asshole," Woody called out.
Another shot sounded, quickly followed by a fourth.
"We have you pinned down," that same calm voice said.
"What do you want?" Forrest asked, irritated, but no hint of fear.
"The same thing you do," Calm-voice said.
"A straight answer?" Woody asked. "An end to people being assholes? A bowl of loaded fries?"
I exchanged glances with Savannah. Loaded fries sounded pretty good around about then.
"My boss wants what's his," Calm-voice said. "You can either give it to us or we'll take it."
"It what?" Woody called out. "Do you see it around here anywhere? Is it in the room with us?"
"You know what I'm referring to," Calm-voice said.
"Do we?" Forrest asked. "I think you're making assumptions. Several of them. Including that we have any intention of cooperating with you."
"What he's trying to say is, answer the fucking question," Woody snarled. "Tell us what you want or fuck off. Better yet, tell us what you want,thenfuck off." He also sounded more annoyed than scared.
Another gunshot sounded, followed immediately by another. Did I hear bodies hit the floor? Something did, heavy and final. Out in the corridor from the sound of it.
Or maybe that was me hoping like hell.
"Heeere's Leif," Leif declared, "It's all clear out here."
I let out a ragged breath of relief.
"Are you kidding?" Woody asked. He walked past on the way to the front door of the apartment. "We were just about to get some answers."
"You're welcome," Leif said sarcastically. "I could have left them to kill you."
"We appreciate you," Forrest said. He peered into the bedroom. "It's safe to come out now."
Strange, it didn't feel safe. Still, I got to my feet and stepped over carefully to peer toward the penthouse door.
Three bodies lay right outside, beside the twisted door, blood pooling around them.
Savannah gagged before running into the bathroom, followed by the sound of her being violently sick.
"Is everyone all right?" Forrest asked, appraising each of us in turn.
"Fine and fucking dandy," Woody said sarcastically. "We do this on a regular basis, nothing to worry about." He brushed dust off his clothes.
Forrest smirked at him before stepping over to clap Leif on the shoulder. "Nice work."
Leif shrugged. "They weren't looking in my direction." He gave Forrest a one-armed bro hug and stepped over to me to wrap his arms around me. "You're okay?" He nuzzled his face into my hair.
"I'm fine," I said. "A little shaken up, but nothing a few fingers of vodka couldn't fix."
His body rumbled with a laugh. "Friends of yours?" He addressed that question to the other guys.
"Fuck no," Woody said. "My friends don't shoot at me."
"Are you sure?" Leif asked. "You have that kind of face, and, you know, personality. The kind that says, 'Please shoot at me.'"
