You manage to break free.

Since you are leaning on the counter, and Eddie is rather preoccupied with trying to undress you, you bring both feet up as hard as you can. Your heels smash into his kneecaps, and the **** is enough to knock him off balance. He falls backward heavily, with a suprised grunt. You use the opportunity to struggle to your feet. It is difficult, especially with your hands handcuffed behind your back, but you manage it.

Eddie lies on the floor, and begins to turn himself over. You don't intend to give him another chance. You twist your arms as hard as you can, finding your pocket. Your right hand slips in and you find the butt of the gun. You yank it free, and aim it awkwardly, since you have to twist to draw a bead on him. Eddie has risen to his hands and knees, and sees what you are about to do. He pushes up with his hands, trying to get to you, as you pull the trigger.

The gunshot startles both him and you, pausing him for a moment. He smiles when he realizes you missed, and moves again as you pull the trigger three times rapidly in succession.

The next second blurs in your mind. You clearly make out the bullet ripping across his shoulder, gashing a line in his shirt. The second whizzes to the left, impacting in his chest, and he stumbles backwards from the impacts. The third catches him full in the throat. Eddie's hand whips up to paw at his wounds, silenced by the final bullet. His mouth opens and shuts. He seems suprised. For an instant, you feel very, very sorry.

He slumps, his eyes fluttering. Finally, he crashes to the ground, with no movement. You gasp softly, scared, but relieved that you have just ended the life of your would-be ****.