the knife there as he moved his left hand suddenly to the other’s elbow. With that leverage he pulled at the elbow as he forced the firmly held hand up and back toward Alterie, the knife point bending slowly toward the man’s chest.
Tony knew he had the other man now; his strength was so much greater that he could easily have broken the arm in his hands. And when Alterie tried to pull away, Tony increased the upward pressure on the elbow. Alterie wasn’t looking at Tony now, but at the point of the thin knife blade as it moved an inch at a time toward him, closer, until, held in his own hand and Tony’s it was touching his chest.
Tony pushed the knife forward until he felt it slide through the black coat and knew it was touching skin beneath. He said softly, grinning, tight-lipped at the other, “Easy now, Alterie. Easy. This sticker will go through you like you were butter. I oughta kill you, you sonofabitch, for talkin’ to me like that.”
Alterie’s eyes were wide and his chin was pulled back against his chest, ripples of flesh bunched under his chin as he rolled his eyes downward to where the knife point touched his chest. His breathing was shallow through his open mouth as he strained to keep his chest away from that lethal point.
Tony looked at Alterie’s face with his own eyes narrowed to bare slits and his lips pressed together. “Look at me, you sonofabitch,” he said. “Now!”
Alterie, without moving any other part of his body, rolled his eyes up to Tony’s. Tony grinned at him and slowly, dehberately, pressed the knife forward. Tony could feel the blade press an inch into the flesh in front of it, easily, almost as if the muscle and ligaments and fat were melting beneath the steel.
Alterie sucked in his breath suddenly, noise squeaking in his throat. His mouth was stretched wide and his lower hp danced back and forth on his teeth. His whole face began to twitch and shake as he made little squeaking, gasping noises in his throat.
Tony looked at him, feeling the knife in the man’s body, and a hot flood of excitement swept over his own body, making his flesh warm. It was an almost sexual excitement, and his face was nearly as contorted as Alterie’s. Tony knew that with only the slightest pressure he could thrust the’ knife deeper, so deep that the life under his hands would drain out slowly and Alterie would die as Tony held him impaled on the blade in his fist.
He stared into the panicked man’s face and said, “I’ll kill you, Alterie, I’ll kill you, kill you.”
Alterie’s mouth twitched; tears glistened in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He started to sob and blubber, disgustingly, helplessly. His teeth began to chatter, the rapid clicks audible as the bones rattled together. His breath made a soft hissing noise as he sucked it through the spaces between his teeth.
Tony looked at him, his eyes cold, then he shuddered, pulled the knife from Alterie’s chest and jerked it from the man’s weak fingers. He threw the knife to the floor of the porch as Alterie slumped back against the wall. Tony looked at him with his lips curling, then stepped close and hit him in the stomach with all his strength. The breath spurted from Alterie’s lungs like vomit as Tony caught him, held him upright with his left hand as he pumped his right fist again and again into the man’s stomach and chest and face.
Alterie was unconscious before Tony hit him the last time on the mouth and felt the teeth break under his knuckles, then dropped him to the floor.
Tony turned toward Leo who hadn’t said anything since he’d warned Tony about the knife. He was looking down at the crumpled form of Alterie now. “My God,” he said in a whisper. “My God, Tony, you maybe killed him.”
“He’ll be all right, the bastard. I should have killed him for pulling that sticker on me. The bastard.”
They made the last pickup on Divisadero Street, then drove to Tony’s hotel. Before Tony got out he said
Tony knew he had the other man now; his strength was so much greater that he could easily have broken the arm in his hands. And when Alterie tried to pull away, Tony increased the upward pressure on the elbow. Alterie wasn’t looking at Tony now, but at the point of the thin knife blade as it moved an inch at a time toward him, closer, until, held in his own hand and Tony’s it was touching his chest.
Tony pushed the knife forward until he felt it slide through the black coat and knew it was touching skin beneath. He said softly, grinning, tight-lipped at the other, “Easy now, Alterie. Easy. This sticker will go through you like you were butter. I oughta kill you, you sonofabitch, for talkin’ to me like that.”
Alterie’s eyes were wide and his chin was pulled back against his chest, ripples of flesh bunched under his chin as he rolled his eyes downward to where the knife point touched his chest. His breathing was shallow through his open mouth as he strained to keep his chest away from that lethal point.
Tony looked at Alterie’s face with his own eyes narrowed to bare slits and his lips pressed together. “Look at me, you sonofabitch,” he said. “Now!”
Alterie, without moving any other part of his body, rolled his eyes up to Tony’s. Tony grinned at him and slowly, dehberately, pressed the knife forward. Tony could feel the blade press an inch into the flesh in front of it, easily, almost as if the muscle and ligaments and fat were melting beneath the steel.
Alterie sucked in his breath suddenly, noise squeaking in his throat. His mouth was stretched wide and his lower hp danced back and forth on his teeth. His whole face began to twitch and shake as he made little squeaking, gasping noises in his throat.
Tony looked at him, feeling the knife in the man’s body, and a hot flood of excitement swept over his own body, making his flesh warm. It was an almost sexual excitement, and his face was nearly as contorted as Alterie’s. Tony knew that with only the slightest pressure he could thrust the’ knife deeper, so deep that the life under his hands would drain out slowly and Alterie would die as Tony held him impaled on the blade in his fist.
He stared into the panicked man’s face and said, “I’ll kill you, Alterie, I’ll kill you, kill you.”
Alterie’s mouth twitched; tears glistened in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He started to sob and blubber, disgustingly, helplessly. His teeth began to chatter, the rapid clicks audible as the bones rattled together. His breath made a soft hissing noise as he sucked it through the spaces between his teeth.
Tony looked at him, his eyes cold, then he shuddered, pulled the knife from Alterie’s chest and jerked it from the man’s weak fingers. He threw the knife to the floor of the porch as Alterie slumped back against the wall. Tony looked at him with his lips curling, then stepped close and hit him in the stomach with all his strength. The breath spurted from Alterie’s lungs like vomit as Tony caught him, held him upright with his left hand as he pumped his right fist again and again into the man’s stomach and chest and face.
Alterie was unconscious before Tony hit him the last time on the mouth and felt the teeth break under his knuckles, then dropped him to the floor.
Tony turned toward Leo who hadn’t said anything since he’d warned Tony about the knife. He was looking down at the crumpled form of Alterie now. “My God,” he said in a whisper. “My God, Tony, you maybe killed him.”
“He’ll be all right, the bastard. I should have killed him for pulling that sticker on me. The bastard.”
They made the last pickup on Divisadero Street, then drove to Tony’s hotel. Before Tony got out he said
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