Chapter 162: Vitale, Part 22

Semi-supported by my hold, she doesn't fall all the way, but hangs poised, scraping those pointed heels over the concrete, trying to regain her feet, trying to break away.

But on the slick surface, there no grip to be had and the heels scrape uselessly at the concrete. She cries out, face contorting as she tries to twist free of my grasp. Shrieking like a banshee, screeching like a fishwife... "Fuck you!" ... she struggles and squirms and twists...

... then abruptly, changes tack, flinging herself forward, and head down, drops to my hand, sinking in her teeth.

Pain stabs up my arm and involuntarily, briefly, my fingers slacken. And in the instant before I regain my hold, with a shriek of triumph, she's pulled free.

As she slips loose of my grip, she drops, landing with a bump on her ass, scrambling backwards, shoving herself along on palms and the ridiculous silver-vinyl boots.