Innocence by David Hosp Page B

as his jaw worked up and down in what he’d initially thought would be his silent death scream. Had his attention not been dedicated to weighing the odds of his survival, Finn probably would have been fascinated by his assailant’s reaction. He was watching Finn with what looked like concern, and he seemed almost relieved when Finn started showing some signs of life again.
    It was another minute or two before Finn could straighten himself and speak, still on his knees. “I’ll take that as an indication that the offer’s been rejected,” he coughed out, wiping his mouth and looking for blood as he drew his hand away from his face.
    “I don’t want to do this,” the young man said quietly.
    “Good. That makes two of us,” Finn said, placing one foot on the ground while still supporting his weight with his other knee.
    “I’m serious.”
    Finn could tell he was. “So don’t do it,” he offered. It seemed simple enough.
    “No choice. Mr. Slocum wants this resolved. He’s willing to double what Mrs. Slocum would’ve gotten under their prenup. My instructions are to make sure that’s acceptable to you. Tonight.”
    A light sweat had broken out on Finn’s forehead, and he put his hand up to mop it off. “Four thousand a month?” He considered it.
    “It’s more than I make,” the young man said. “And she don’t have to do anything to earn it.”
    Finn shook his head. “She won’t go for it.”
    “I’m sure you can convince her. If not, I can.” The young man crossed his arms. “It’s the way it’s gotta be. You agree now, and I don’t have to do anything more to you. Shit, I’ll even take you to the bar on the corner, buy you a beer, so you know I’m not such a bad guy.”
    Finn nodded, leaning his weight forward onto an arm slung across his knee. “Help me up,” he said, exhaling loudly.
    The young man was visibly relieved. He uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, leaning down to pull Finn off the floor. As Finn came off his knee, he drove his head up, snapping it forward into the man’s face as he was bent over, sending him stumbling back.
    Finn was sure that would end the altercation. He’d been in enough fights to know that a solid head butt to the face was generally enough to put even the stubborn brawlers down. Sometimes there was some finishing work left to do—a quick kick between the legs to close the deal, or maybe a blow to the back of the head with a heavy object—but it was always a mere formality.
    Finn got to his feet and moved in for the kill, watching and waiting for the man to go down to the floor in front of him and present an easy target. But something remarkable happened: The man didn’t fall. He stumbled back a yard or so, his hands to his face, but he stayed on his feet. After a couple of seconds, he pulled his hands away, and all Finn could see was a trickle of blood running from his nose. Other than that, he looked unfazed. That was the moment Finn realized he was in trouble.
    “That was a mistake,” the man said simply.
    “I’m getting that feeling,” Finn replied.
    “That was a really big mistake.”
    “Yes, I think we’re agreed on that point.”
    He was unbelievably quick for such a huge man. His hand shot out, grabbing Finn by the throat. Another hand came up and attached itself to the front of Finn’s shirt, lifting him up off the ground.
    “Wait,” Finn protested. “You haven’t heard my counteroffer.”
    The young man tossed Finn over the desk and into the exposed brick wall. Finn landed hard and at an awkward angle, wrenching his knee. He had no opportunity to evaluate the damage, though, as his tormentor came around the corner of the desk and reached down to pick him up again. Finn felt like a character in some twisted fairy tale as he was lifted off the ground once more. All that was missing was a beanstalk.
    The giant heaved him across the room and pinned him against a section of drywall. He held Finn with one hand while he pulled the