Page 4 of Hold On Through The Pain

It was probably the woman he’d tried to save, but he couldn’t risk giving her attention to find out.

Backing down wasn’t his style, but getting killed in a bar fight wasn’t his style either. He didn’t picture a way to end this gracefully.

Striker clenched his fists. The burn from the cut across his forearm ached. He needed a miracle. The buzz in his head grew. That wasn’t a good sign. He was either going to die, or he would probably be in the hospital for the rest of his leave. Either way, he was going down.

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Striker drew in a deep breath.He wasn’t ready to die. This fight was unfair, but most fights were. He had to find a way to get out of this situation. If only he had one other guy willing to stand up with him. But this wasn’t his stomping grounds, and his luck had run out.

The pair fighting with the abuser looked at each other, their smiles growing. Big Dude nodded as they signaled each other. Striker could see plainly what they were doing and was ready for the next attack from Knife Guy.

The man lunged, knife first. Striker leaned low and swept his leg, tripping him, then pushed him hard, shoving him to the ground. Now he had Knife Guy behind him and Big Dude rushing him. There wasn’t any way he could escape the punch flying at his face.

Bam!

The solid blow to his face had him staggering. Knife Guy was in the process of climbing to his feet but was still down. Big Dude was winding up to hit again.

He had a plan; it wasn’t good, but it was a plan to not die. Then the woman who he’d tried to save rushed over, getting between him and the big beefy man.

“Don’t,” she roared. “Leave him alone.”

“Need a pussy to fight for you,” Big Dude barked.

She growled low before screaming. “I’m not a pussy, you asshole.”

Her attitude was off the charts—he gave her an A for that—but this wasn’t a place for her. These two guys weren’t gentlemen, and he feared they wouldn’t care if she was hurt.

He pulled her back, stepping in front of her. “I’ve got this.”

“They aren’t fighting fair. They have a knife,” she spit out.

Right then Knife Guy jumped up and rushedthem from his side. No way in hell would he allow this woman to get hurt more than she already was. Striker turned, angling toward Knife Guy, and kicked, knocking the knife from the man’s hand. He pulled Knife Guy in close and punched him hard. Knife Guy crumpled to the ground. That only left Big Dude.

Striker stepped closer to Big Dude and prepared for a hit, but without Knife Guy to back him up, the jerk lifted his hands and shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t want any trouble. You know, I was just standing up for my friend.”

“Bullshit. You were deep in the middle of trouble and weren’t fighting fair. You and your pals need to get out of here,” Striker stated before spitting on the ground in front of the jerk.

The man grabbed his friend, half carrying him, half dragging him, as they made their way to an old rusted-out car.

The woman he’d stepped in to help came over, a worried look on her face. Her lips thinned out even more as she stared at his arm. “That cut looks nasty.”

He waved his hand, dismissing her worry. “I’m fine.”

“No, come on. There’s a pharmacy not too far from here. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

The pain in his arm bothered him, but he couldtake care of it himself. He wanted to spend more time with her. He shook his head, which only amplified the dizziness he’d experienced from the few punches he’d taken. “Sure. My truck is over here.”

“You okay to drive?”

He pulled out his keys, forcing himself to steady. “Sure am.” Striker opened the door for her, but before she stepped in, he put his hand on her arm. “So, what’s your name?”

Her lips twitched up a little and the skin around her eyes softened. “Shannon.”

“Well, Shannon, it’s nice to meet you. People call me Striker.”

He studied her face, thinking she needed ice for her eye. What a pair they made. Bruises for her, and his arm was still bleeding. The people at the pharmacy might freak out, but the last thing he wanted was to head to a hospital. Jesus, the first night on leave and he’d already gotten in a bar fight with three guys. He stepped around the truck, thinking he needed to slow down.

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