Page 66 of His Obsession

Little did he know, it would be the least of his worries, anyway. As soon as we had the information we needed, he would meet a very pissed-off individual whose need for revenge might even rival mine. I walked away, slamming the door behind me, and turned on that hideous country music.

Snider’s room was just one down from Ralph’s, and I couldn’t help but shake with anticipation. Bellowing came from behind Jerry’s door, letting me know that Tonk was hard at work. The door opened, and the screams got louder as he walked out. Tonk shut the door behind him, and the shrieks from the broken man became muffled again.

“Progress?” I asked him.

“I got a name.”

Tonk had blood splatter all over his bare chest and some on his jeans. He looked like a crazed lunatic, but he was the right man for the job. I couldn’t ask for a better person to do it.

“Me too. Snider,” I said, nodding my head towards Snider's door.

“Same.”

“Looks like we are on to something.”

“So it would seem,” he replied.

I grabbed the handle to Snider’s room and swung the door open.

A semi-truck barreled into me and slammed me into the wall out of nowhere, which was the most comparable thing to Kris Snider. The air rushed from my lungs, and the back of my head smacked into cement.

That’s going to leave a mark.

Snider was a brute of a man and had miraculously escaped his chains and was now trying to pound the shit out of me.

Dazed, I felt hands on the back of my legs haul me into the air, and my instincts kicked in—muscle memory, the thing we tried to pound into Liz.

I drove my elbow deep into his spine repeatedly until my feet landed back to the floor, and I could wrap my arm around his neck like a guillotine, squeezing until he wobbled. I had to be careful not to break his neck or kill him. It seemed the moment you were told not to kill a man, because you needed him, the harder it was to keep him alive.

Your innate instinct is to eliminate the threat coming at you, and you need to fight that instinct, sometimes causing fatal errors. Snider stood straight up with ease. He pulled my arm free from his neck, grabbing my thighs, and plunged us to the ground, his large body mass crash-landing on top of me.

“Little help here, Tonk.”

That asshole I considered a friend leaned against the wall, relaxed as possible, and howled with laughter.

“Nah, it looks like you got this.”

A giant fist made an impact with my ribs, and I returned my attention to the hulk of a man trying to grapple with me. I felt time slow down as his asteroid-sized fist came barreling down. I put my forearms up to block the hit just in the knick of time. His bone and muscled fist collided with my arms, causing me to want to do more than wince.

I lifted my hips, throwing him off balance. His body lurched forward, and his arms flailed out to catch himself on the floor above my head. I hooked my leg over his, locking it into place, and snatched his arm, holding it against his body. This move was one I had practiced daily, so I could do it without thought; it put me in the perfect position to gain the upper hand and flip him over. I heaved the ugly Orc over my side with all my might, propelling him to his back.

I braced between his legs as I punched his nuts, making him curl up and let go. It was a common misperception that men don’t hit each other in the nuts because we feel the pain. When your life is on the line, you don’t give a shit. You go for the weaknesses of your enemies, and the balls are number one… always.

Rolling away quickly, I jumped to my feet and stomped on his face, knocking him out. I felt a trickle down my neck as I leaned against the wall to catch my breath, glaring at Tonk for being purposefully useless. I put my hand to the back of my head and pulled it away. It was warm and slick with blood. Fucking bastard.

“He got you good,” Tonk said, laughing then patting me on the back.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when Hulk Hogan on steroids comes at you with no backup.”

I didn’t have time for this shit. We needed to find out where Liz was, and we were so close I could feel it.

“Go fix that.” He pointed to the blood coating my fingers. “I’ll get him strapped in and ready to ride.”

I limped away, holding my ribs, and groaned. Each step I took felt like muscles tearing apart from the bones. Is this what Liz was feeling? Was he doing to her what he did to me? I rubbed my bloody chest tattoo. Tears pricked my eyes as I envisioned her suffering as my mother did.

Wiping the moisture from my eyes, I shook my head. I needed to focus on finding her. I couldn’t allow my emotions to control me and render me useless again. I cleared my throat and made my way through the sweltering summer heat to the showers.

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