Page 69 of Fast Fury

The thought had no sooner flashed through Abby’s brain than the woman’s hand emerged from her purse…with a pistol in it.

Abby’s spine jerked taut, her eyes glued to the weapon as it swung toward them. Disbelief hit her, then fear.

A scream locked in her throat, her hands automatically coming up to shield herself.

Walter grabbed her by the arm and yanked her off the stool. Her high heel caught on the foot rung. She threw her hands out to catch herself as she tumbled to the stamped concrete just as gunshots exploded in the night.

Abby scrambled around the edge of the bar, curling into as small a target as possible. People all around them screamed and dove for cover, but the shots kept coming.

One bullet slammed into the edge of the bar, sending up a spray of bamboo shards. Another hit the ground near her, sending chunks of concrete into the air.

Then Walter grunted and dropped to his side with a strangled cry.

Oh, God, he was hit.

Terrified, Abby grabbed the edge of a nearby table and toppled it over, trying to give them more cover. Glass shattered as a shot hit it.

Walter groaned and tried to roll over. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood over his lower belly. Abby reached for him, trying to keep as low as possible, cringing at the helpless feeling of exposure. His eyes were wide, his face pale as he pressed his hands to his front.

Shit, oh, shit…

She grabbed his shoulders, shoved him flat beneath her as more bullets slammed into the table. Two punched through it. Sharp bites of pain peppered her right calf. Abby bit back a cry and tucked her leg in tight, curling into a ball on her side.

The firing abruptly stopped.

Heart lodged in her throat, Abby waited a second, then risked a peek around the edge of the downed table when she heard the distinct sound of people in some kind of a scuffle. A security guard had one arm clamped around the shooter’s waist, his free hand twisting the wrist holding the pistol. The woman was snarling at him, an animal sound of rage as she struggled in his grip, teeth bared.

No one was helping him. Abby lurched to her knees, her legs wobbling. Afraid or not, she would help him take that bitch down.

“I’ll be right back,” she blurted to Walter, kicking off her heels before getting up and running toward the security guard, ready to help him wrestle the woman to the ground so she couldn’t hurt anyone else.

The woman screamed as the guard twisted her wrist. A loud bang rent the air as the gun went off. Abby gasped and jerked to a halt, ducking on instinct.

The guard grimaced and slumped, turning as he fell to his knees, and the pistol went flying. It hit the stamped concrete with a clatter and skittered out of sight to Abby’s right. But even disarmed, the shooter continued to fight the wounded guard.

Rage and determination swept through Abby in a burning wave.Now or never.Gritting her teeth, she started running toward them.

In that instant the woman fought free of the man’s hold, shoved him to his back and clambered to her feet.

Abby skidded to a stop, her bare feet slipping out from under her. She threw out a hand to catch herself as the woman tore toward her with an expression of absolute murder.

Skin crawling, terror bursting inside her, Abby lunged to her feet and took a running step back toward the bar. She scanned for something to grab and throw at the woman. People there were cowering in fear behind whatever cover they could find. Walter lay flat on his back, blood pooling around him. His head was turned toward her, his face full of pain and dread.

The running footsteps behind Abby seemed to be getting closer, sending a bolt of fear through her.

She’d only made it a few steps before a hard weight hit her in the back. Abby gave a stifled cry a second before slamming into the unforgiving concrete, the woman’s weight landing on top of her.

Pain radiated through Abby’s ribs and pelvis, her forearms where she’d tried to catch herself. Her chin struck the ground, skin scraping as they skidded along the surface.

Within a few heartbeats, the pain and shock of it flipped the internal switch inside her from flight to fight.

With a feral snarl, Abby flipped over, throwing the woman off balance. Jumping to her feet, Abby assumed her fighting stance without thinking, fists raised. Before the woman could stand, Abby twisted and lashed out in a left roundhouse kick. Her shin smashed into the woman’s ribs as she tried to rise.

Pain streaked along her shinbone as the shooter screeched and grabbed her side, but the insane woman wasn’t down yet. Immediately Abby stepped back and did another left roundhouse, aiming for her opponent’s head. The skirt of her dress restricted her movement. She missed her target by inches, yelped in surprise when the woman caught her ankle in both hands and pulled.

Abby barely managed to wrench her foot free in time to stumble back and regain her footing. The woman pushed to her feet, her expression set. She was way too close for Abby to risk turning and running.

Fight. You have to take her down.

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