Suckers - J.A. Konrath

"Neither do I. So my only alternative is to knock you out. Now stand up so I can hit you on
the head again."
He didn’t move.
"Would you prefer me shooting you?"
Slowly, molasses slowly, he got to his knees. I might have felt sorry for the guy, but the
sympathy gene skipped a generation.
I reared back and cracked him a good one on the noggin, which made a sound like a belt
being snapped. He teetered over and ate the lawn.
I watched him for a full minute. No movement. But he may have been faking
unconsciousness to discourage me from smacking him again. Some people are savvy like that.
"You awake?" I asked.
No answer.
"Look, I have to know for sure, so right now I’m going to stomp as hard as I can on your
gonads. I’m sure you understand."
I raised a foot and watched him shift slightly.
"Aspirin..." he groaned. "Plentiful aspirin..."
I sighed. Hitting him again might kill him. Plus, my arm was getting tired.
"Get your ass up. We're switching to Plan B."
The guy took his time getting to his feet, wobbling a little in the process.
"Okay, Saucy. Use the pry bar to break into the house."
"Me?"
"You see anyone else out here?"
He blinked. Then he blinked again. "Why don't you do the manual labor on your own
felony?"
"I’ve got to hold the gun."
"No problem. You can let me hold the gun."
I faked another strike at his head, and when he flinched I stomped on his foot, heel first.
"Put down the goddamn sauce and grab the crowbar. You’re pissing me off."
He obeyed.
"Make sure it’s in the jamb really good, then put some weight on it."
The door moaned in protest, then popped open. I shined the penlight inside, but it wasn’t
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