Page 55 of Mine to Keep
My momentary distraction gives the man time to find one of Mrs. Kruger’s blades and bring it down towards my chest. I block it with my palm and it goes through like fucking butter. I growl in pain, pulling my hand back quickly to dislodge the knife.
Fuck, that fucking hurts.
The man laughs as he lunges at me again, stabbing down in a frenzy. He backs me against the wall, intent on stabbing me in the chest.
I spot a vase on the table by the door. Grabbing it quickly, I throw it at him. He doesn’t duck in time and it hits him in the face. Stunned, he backs up, but I advance, punching him three times in the temple. He drops like a sack of potatoes.
I don’t have time to catch my breath before the woman roars and charges at me. I duck and she flies over my back, but she does some sort of fucking MMA move and pulls me off my feet, damn near folding me in half. She punches me twice in the face before I even know the hits are coming.
I spit a mouthful of blood at her, and she screams in disgust, releasing me and swiping her handacrossher face. Rolling to my feet, I glance over to make sure her partner is knocked out cold. “Still think you can take me?”
She wipes her face again and spits at my feet. “I know I can. Your fucking reputation is bullshit.”
“Yeah? That’s why it takes two of you to kill me? Must be scared.”
The woman grunts but doesn’t approach me like she did before. She’s more cautious, especially since she’s on her own now.
Smart woman.
“Come on. Let’s see what you got,” I taunt, beckoning her.
We both come at the other at the same time, throwing fists. She’s fast, using her slender frame to get out of some of my holds, and throw quick blows.
She clips me on the chin as I lean back from a quick jab to the face. I grab her by the throat and throw her against the wall, knocking the wind out of her.
When I advance on her, she pops up quickly, wrapping her arms around my waist as she tackles me to the ground. We fly into the bedroom, my back bumping into the bed. I grab her and maneuver her in front of me so I can get her in a chokehold. She tucks her chin, preventing me from getting a good hold.
Then my arm erupts in a blast of pain so strong that I howl and let her go. I look down at the deep gash, blood leaking from it like a fucking faucet.
She moves back quickly and cocks her foot back, kicking me in the face. My hand goes automatically to my nose, the wound in my arm pulling and more blood flowing. Where the fuck did she get that knife?
The woman tries to stab me again, but I clip her legs from under her once again, making her fall down heavily. We both lie still for a few beats before we climb to our feet.
Before I can try to move this fight back into the living room so I can keep eyes on her partner, the woman runs at me. I grip her around the waist, trying to toss her out of the window, butshe gets a death grip on my arm and pulls me with her. We break through the glass, tumbling out of the window into empty air.
It’s not a long drop to the ground and I pivot hard, twisting my body to avoid landing on my head, with my injured arm taking the brunt of the fall.
The woman is not so lucky. She lands on her back and is stunned for a few moments, blinking slowly and groaning.
Our position keeps us out of sight of any neighbors—though I’m sure they heard the raucous fight upstairs and probably called the cops—giving me some cover and time to breathe from the hard impact of the concrete.
In the brief second I give myself, I analyze my body for injuries. Other than the stab wound to my hand, the deep slash on my arm, and maybe a twisted ankle, I don’t feel any broken bones. I’ll be fucking sore all over, but nothing that’ll fuck me up too bad.
The knife she used to slice me landed on the ground between us, so I scoop it up, roll on top of her and bury it in her chest in one smooth motion. Once, twice, three times. To make sure there’s no coming back from this wound, I twist the blade.
She grabs my hand, looking up at me with wide eyes. I grin down at her, though my vision is going hazy. Blood flows from her mouth as she pants, trying to draw in greedy gulps of air. That won’t save her.
Just before her eyes turn glassy, I say, “Gotta wake up earlier…to fucking kill me.”
A frown crosses her face before her eyes go glassy and unseeing.
I check her pulse and feel nothing under my fingers. Letting out a groan, I roll over, breathing in sharp pants. Fuck. If we’d stayed in the apartment, I would have been hard pressed to kill her. This is the closest I’ve come to death since Arizona and I don’t fucking like it.
I’m. Fucking. Done.
The sound of heavy footsteps gets me onto my feet and I’m running in the direction of my car before I even give my body the command. Her partner must be awake and looking for us.
I need to get back to Siloq. I need to get back to Javier and Talon.
