"You're going to die today, Edward."
John said.
-BAM!
A fist came flying toward my face.
But I caught it.
My hand clamped around his knuckles mid-swing, and I locked eyes with him, my grip tightening.
"What the hell are you doing, John?" I asked, glaring.
"That should be my fucking line, you bastard!" He spat, twisting his body violently and launching a kick toward my ribs without missing a beat.
Tch… this guy.
I instinctively stepped back to dodge, but the room was small, and the bed behind me caught my leg. I lost my balance and tumbled backward, landing with a grunt on top of Roda.
But John wasn't finished. His rage had blinded him, and with another shout, he raised his leg again—this time aiming to destroy.
"Move!" I said, grabbing Roda by the arm and rolling us off the bed just in time.
-CRACK!
The frame of the bed shattered under the force of his kick, splinters and pieces of wood flying like shrapnel. It sounded like a bomb went off in the room.
