*******
With the collar of her half-unbuttoned blouse down to her elbow, her back to her apartment door...
“Carl, are you busy right now?”
...her lips commingling with another’s, Faith glanced to her left, toward the sound of a closing door and her neighbor’s high-pitched voice. Strong hands fondled her while she fed a key into a slot and twisted a brass-colored knob. A beat later, she and a man stumbled into the darkened dwelling, their mouths never parting.
He kicked the door shut, yanked her white shirt from her body, and pushed her against the wall.
Faith’s left butt cheek rammed into a small table, knocking over a picture. A short lamp wobbled, but stayed upright. She pushed him away. “Easy,” she faltered, Steve? Stan? “tiger...we have plenty of time for the rough stuff.”
Tiger pulled his t-shirt over his head.
Kicking off her flats—bringing her to her five-ten height—Faith ogled his hairless torso, bulging and rippling in the right places. What is it with men shaving their chests?
Tiger resumed his oral assault, focusing his attention on her neck.
I mean they’re supposed to have—ooh, she cocked her head to one side, right there, big man. She pulled on the back of his head while removing her gun and holster from her belt and tucking them into the short table’s drawer.
Tiger undid a button and lowered a zipper, and sixteen rounds of 45 ACP in a dual magazine pouch dragged her pants to the floor with a thud.
Faith stepped out of the slacks, grabbed his belt buckle, spun him around, and slammed him into the wall. After clutching his neck and suckling his lips for a few seconds, On second thought... she led him across the living room, fingers tugging on the waistband of his jeans, eyes fixed on the bedroom door, “I changed my mind. I don’t want to wait.”
*******
one hour later
10:19 p.m.
One foot on a mat, the other on the edge of the bathtub, Faith ran a towel over long, athletic legs before patting slender, toned arms with the white cotton cloth, her mind replaying the last hour’s activities with the college-aged kid. She smiled. ‘A-plus’ for stamina...he gave his all. She recalled the time she had spent at the gym earlier in the day. What do you know? I got two workouts in today.
Chuckling, the twenty-eight-year-old draped the towel over the shower rod, took a position in front of the bathroom mirror, and leaned forward. Her pubic bone touching a pedestal sink, she screwed up her face, recoiled, and put a hand to her private area. Maybe I should stick to only ONE per day.
Dipping her chin, she examined her damp, long blonde hair in the reflective surface. Looks like it’s time for... she toyed with the dark strip down the middle of her scalp, some touch-up. Her hair naturally coal black, she had dyed her mane several years ago to distinguish herself from her older sister. Growing up, both siblings had fooled many people into thinking the two were identical twins.
Faith stepped into baggy shorts before stretching a skin-tight t-shirt over full breasts and a flat stomach. Envisioning escorting Tiger out of her apartment, she grabbed the doorknob, stopped, and scowled at the scale on the floor. “What in the world is his name, anyway?” After a few moments of speculation, she shook her head. This wouldn’t happen if you didn’t bring them back here.
Exiting the bathroom, Faith heard a gurgling sound and pivoted her head to greet the noise. Her skin crawled. Perspiration beads formed on her forehead.
Near the front door, one man stood while a second was down on one knee. Both wore black suits, white shirts, and black ties. Standing to join his partner, the latter male gripped a shiny knife.
Her eyes darted from the blade—glistening red—to the dark-skinned man who held the weapon. Slapping at her right hip and coming up with nothing but her shorts, she glimpsed the table just inside the door, the table that housed her engraved Colt 1911. Son-of-a—
The man with the blade sidestepped the still form at his feet and headed toward her.
Faith ran into her bedroom, slammed the door, and turned the flimsy lock. She put her back to the door and bobbed her eyebrows, That’ll buy me all of ten seconds, before scanning the room for weapons. Two men...one with a knife...both probably have guns. She saw Tiger holding his throat, blood seeping between his fingers. Why would they kill him? They’re both—she shut her eyes and pressed fingers to her temple. You can’t worry about that now, Faith. You need to find something to defend yourself—
A thump came from the other side of the door.
The shock wave reverberated throughout her body. She flinched, inwardly screamed, and gave the room another look before grabbing a floor lamp and yanking the power cord from the outlet. Backing away from the door, she shattered the light’s glass globe against a dresser and aimed the makeshift weapon at the entry point. I’m not going out quietly.
Images of her father, her deceased mother, her sister flashed before her eyes. I love you guys. Make sure you find the S.O.B.’s that did this to me, Jessica. Make them pay for—Faith stood taller. Jess.
The door banged.
She dropped the lamp and darted to the dresser. Scattering items around the surface, she found a scrap of paper. After opening and closing drawers, she ran to her nightstand, plucked a ballpoint pen from the drawer, and scribbled on the white fragment.
Two successive bangs filled the room.
Cringing, she shot a look over her shoulder before finishing her work and folding the paper several times.
A loud crack followed the next blow to the hollow door.
One more solid boot and that thing’s... Faith dropped to her knees, lifted the bedframe, slipped the one-inch square under one of the four posts, and leaped to her feet.
The door burst inward.
She scooped up
