Page 21 of Us Deadly Few

Khalani scowled in his direction. Brock didn’t like her. He just enjoyed egging Takeshi on. As if he wanted to see just how long it would take for a ticking bomb to explode.

Takeshi’s answering chuckle was laced with depravity. “If you’re that confident, Death-Zoner, you can fight me instead. But don’t expect sympathy when I leave you with fewer limbs.”

Her eyes widened as Brock immediately hopped down from the car, palming his gun. Takeshi straightened and calmly pulled a blade from his pocket.

“Whoa, whoa.” Khalani stepped in between them, holding her palms out. “No one’s losing any limbs on my watch.”

“Relax, Khalani.” Brock grinned. “I’ll let you have your turn after. Besides, I won’t kill him. Just some healthy exercise is all, right?”

“Isn’t your arm still injured?” she asked incredulously.

“I’ve handled worse.” Brock took the sling off, flinging it to the ground. “He could use the advantage anyway.”

Takeshi’s body was taut as a bow string, like he’d been patiently waiting for this moment. When he licked his lips, her face paled, genuinely worried for the survival of their only guide on the surface.

Her fear only intensified when Brock announced, “No weapons,” extending his pistol toward her.

“For safekeeping.” He winked.

A split second later, Takeshi’s sharp blade flew a centimeter past Brock’s ear, embedding itself in a deflated car tire behind them.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Takeshi tossed his black jacket onto the sand and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the corded veins in his forearms.

Oh, boy.

Serene tugged on Khalani’s elbow, pulling her a few feet back. “Sit down. We’re definitely not missing this.”

“Who you got?” Derek asked.

“I’m thinking Brock,” Adan replied eagerly.

“I don’t know, man. He’s big, but Steele has that killer instinct.”

Truer words were never spoken.

“Name the limits.” Takeshi peered down, assessing his opponent.

Brock rolled his neck. “We go until one of us taps out. I think it goes without saying that I’m not allowed to kill you, much as I’d enjoy it otherwise.”

“That’s a shame,” Takeshi whispered like a walking nightmare. “I was hoping we could play harder.”

Brock grinned, stepping back a few paces, and he held his fists in front of his face. “Ready?”

Takeshi nodded, holding his body incredibly still.

Brock’s shorter, stockier build contrasted with Takeshi’s tall, athletic frame, honed by years of rigorous training.

Everyone froze, waiting for the first move.

Brock shot forward, faster than a sailing bullet, launching his right fist.

Takeshi leaned back, but Brock feinted and sent a punch directly to his ribs. Takeshi smacked his arm away and cracked Brock in the chin.

The impact made everyone wince.

Brock recovered and kicked Takeshi’s knee. Takeshi stumbled but drove his elbow under Brock’s chin. Brock threw his head back, and Takeshi followed with a powerful blow to his chest

---