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"I'd let him go if I was you, that is unless you want me to test how sharp this knife is by slitting your friend's throat." I looked Logjam steadily in the eye and held his gaze as I began to increase the pressure until a slight trickle of blood began to seep from Spike's throat. "Then again maybe he'll listen if you talk to him." I said turning my attention to Spike for a split-second a I increased the pressure of the knife causing more blood to flow and Spike to panic."For fuck's sake let him go Log', this crazy bastard really means it!"Logjam let Michael go and they both stood up and looked in my direction as I continued to hold the knife against Spike's throat.Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed Connie get off the bed as soon as she realised that neither of the two thugs could see what she was doing. I had no idea what she was planning at first until I saw her reach to the side of the dresser and pull out an old baseball bat of mine. I'd forgotten all about it in the excitement. The home of an empty man. Another long day, purposely filled with overwork to blunt the mind from plotting its own demise. But as always, the body has a desire to stop, a back that needs a rest, a desire for the numbing of the bones provided by the spicy fire of the scotch. As I enter my boxlike home, my only food for the day, a bottle of this and that, and the simple desire to complete my psychological shutdown for the evening. But tonight is different. My nose begins to flare as it takes in the scents that were never there before. My chest expands deeply with the aromas greeting me. My head feels lighter as the lack of oxygen begins to take effect. My brain cataloging every new scent that reaches into my primal desires. To hunt, to protect and to love, urges long dormant awakened in a flicker, then a flood of sensations. The aromas of a home cooked meal, candles scented before the glow of their flames reach my eyes. Overpowering all of these sensations that should not be, the.
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