In my position, only a moron would have jumped up and yelled. I jumped up and yelled.
“Stop it! Don’t listen to either one of ’em.”
Victor swung around on the couch, his angry face right in front of mine.
“Hiya, Vic,” I said brightly, with a weak smile. My left foot had gone to sleep.
“What—who are you?” He sprang up to block my way. “Liz, who is this guy? Where did you—”
Ben shoved him aside, his face flushed with fury, and yelled a long stream of Cantonese invective. I couldn’t understand it, but I suspected he didn’t like me, either. He had shucked his black jacket and came at me with muscles rippling on bare arms that extended from a sleeveless gray sweatshirt.
Before I could speak, he punched me in the stomach. I doubled forward, eyes bulging, frozen in position. He got his hand
