Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
The secret to getting close was nothing more than patience. I let my breath steady, keeping it shallow, almost imperceptible, as I watched through the cracked doorway. The house carried the dry hush of late afternoon; my mother, hunched over the basket of shirts and underwear on her bed, was too absorbed in her folding to notice the faint shift of air or the shadow that slipped inside her room. She didn’t look up as I eased my foot over the threshold, barely bending the hardwood beneath me.
Mom sang quietly—an old habit when she thought herself alone. Something from her own mother, maybe. Her voice was papery and brittle, but every phrase landed on the precise beat. I stepped closer, matching the pace of her hands as they smoothed each hem, every line of fabric. Her fingers trembled a little; she paused, scolded herself under her breath, and forced them into rigid lines again.
Two steps away. Close enough to smell the heat of her skin under the tired floral perfume and the static electricity clinging to her blouse. Her wrists looked breakable in the late light, but I knew better than to underestimate her. She had survived things, this woman, but nothing like me.
The chokehold is all about leverage. You don’t need to be big, just accurate. I timed her motion—she bent to pluck another tee from the basket—and I slipped my right arm around her neck, locking my wrist against the crook of my elbow, my other hand anchoring the lock behind her head. She jerked upright, tried to shriek, but the sound caught ragged in her windpipe. Most people squeeze for the wind, but I angled my grip just so, letting my biceps cinch down on her carotids, starving her brain by degrees.
Her nails found my forearm instantly, scrabbling for any purchase. I held still, letting her dig in, letting the pain burn up my nerves without flinching. She raked four jagged lines, drawing blood, but I didn’t slacken my hold. I dipped my face next to hers, feeling the heat and the wet panic rolling off her, and whispered in her ear. “You’re going to sleep now, but I’ll be right here when you wake up. That’s a promise.” Her heels hammered the side of the bed, kicking clean through the pile of folded clothes. The basket tumbled, scattering socks and bras across the floor like bright, pointless confetti.