On top of me, Matt pulls his arm back. As if in slow motion, it screams toward me, but I wrap my legs around his waist and twist at the same time.
His hand punches the carpet and I take advantage of his momentary discombobulation, arching my back upward to dislodge him. I jump to my feet a second before he stands in front of me. We’re both breathing hard, focused on taking the other out.
He does a roundhouse swing at me that narrowly misses. I step forward into a right hook and connect with his jaw, sending his face flying to the left. I follow it up with a left jab and he stumbles backward.
Seeing as to how we don’t have much room, and aware of the women somewhere inside, I put my head down and run him into the wall by the torso. Stupefied, he blinks. I grab his wrist, wrap it up high behind him and pull. Hard. His only response is a grunt.
His foot contacts my shin. Not letting go of his wrist, I step to the side before he can try a second kick. And push him downward.
Sirens screech down the street. Elaine rushes by us and opens the front door, pointing to us. “Him! That’s him. The one bending over.”
I look down at the man gulping air and pull on his arm once again. The cop approaches us. “We’ll take it from here, sir.” He clinks a pair of metal handcuffs.