CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Switch couldn’t breathe. She stared down at the razor thin man lying on the bed under her, his grip on her throat tightening with every passing second. She didn’t understand how a man who was so thin, even emaciated, could be so strong, nor why he called her the Collector when she clearly looked nothing like him.
Switch grabbed the thin man’s arm and yanked it off her throat. She staggered backwards, gasping for breath, while the thin man turned in his bed and reached toward her as far as he could, swinging his arm up and down in a vain attempt to get her
“Get back here, Collector,” said the man with a snarl. “Come here again and let me rip your throat out, you little—”
“I am not the Collector,” Switch said. “I’m a teenage girl, for Pete’s sake. I look absolutely nothi
