Page 26 of Mason

Theclickof my gun cocks through the room—loud. Lethal.

“Let. Her. Go.”

The man stills, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before he releases her.

But he doesn’t cower. No.

He surprises me.

He turns.

Andswings.

I duck, but not fast enough. His fist glances off my jaw, snapping my head to the side. Pain flares sharp, but I don’t have time to register it before he’s coming at me again. I dodge the next hit, drive my fist into his ribs, but the bastard barely stumbles.

He fights like someone who enjoys it.

Someone who’s been trained and probably does this sort of thing for a hobby.

I block his next hit, counter with a sharp elbow to his temple—but he takes the blow like a goddamn soldier.

Then he rams into me.

We slam into the hall table, sending things skidding across the floor., including my gun. He’s fast, using his weight to his advantage, trying to trap me against the edge. I throw a punch, but he catches my wrist, twisting it hard enough to make my bones groan in protest.

I grit my teeth and use his momentum against him, yanking him forward and sending my knee straight into his gut.

He stumbles but doesn’t go down. Instead, he shifts his weight and tackles me, dragging us both to the ground. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, and suddenly he’s straddling me, pinning me down, fists slamming into my face.

One.

Two.

Three.

Pain explodes through my skull.

Blood coats my tongue. My vision blurs, but I force my body to move, twisting beneath him, trying to dislodge his weight.

This fucker.

Another hit.

My head snaps back against the floor.

Everything tilts.

Then—

A gunshot.

The impact jerks the bastard upright, his body stiffening.

Then another.

His eyes go wide. His mouth opens, like he’s about to speak—but nothing comes out.

He slumps sideways, crashing to the floor beside me, blood pooling beneath him.

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