She knew he was coming. She was toying with him. He knew this, yet was still determined to move ahead.
He didn’t think he had ever wanted to kill someone so much. Goddamn sock monkeys, staples, nearly getting shot, tripping down the stairs… his neck was still stiff and he had a huge lump on his head. His back was still stinging.
He had laid out all of his weapons on his bed. A Glock 26, a Baretta Nano, a .44, two knives, and a steel garotte. “Damn,” he thought. “I wish I had a dart gun. Or a harpoon!” He laughed a little to himself, imagining a harpoon sticking out of the side of Darlene’s head. And then of her walking through a revolving door.
He was aware of laughing a little too hard at this.