Capítulo 38: Chapter 38

Adrenaline began to surge through my body, and my foot was forgotten. I eased the sneakers off my shoulder to the floor, straightened, and switched the key to my left hand. I reached for my gun, very quietly unlocking the door. Drawing in a deep breath to center myself, I flung the door open to slam noisily against the wall and threw myself into the room, tucking and rolling and coming up on my knee, the Beretta in my right hand, my left cupping the grip.

The man on my bed had bolted upright into a crouch, his upper body mimicking my position. He was pointing a Smith and Wesson Combat Magnum at my head.

I snarled, “Jesus, Mann, who do you think you are, fucking Dirty Harry?” and let my hand with the subcompact drop.

He glared back at me and slid the revolver into the holster under his left arm. “Do you have any idea how close I came to blowing your fucking head off?”