Page 76 of Doubts of the Egoist
Yugo’s instincts kicked in. The kaleidoscope of color spots still twirled before his eyes when Rick jerked the lapel to himself. Forced to take a step, Yugo watched as a nasty grin spread across the chiseled face.
The room blurred, but Yugo could still see his distorted reflection in the steel side of the heavy electric kettle. The handle warmed his palm as he grabbed it and yanked it toward himself. The cord whooshed out of the socket and swayed at his knee. Watching Rick’s elbow draw back, he swung the kettle at the man’s head.
The trajectory of Rick’s punch changed, blocking the blow. His knuckles dented the steel. Following the motion, water gushed from the narrow V-shaped spout. The half-naked man grunted and stumbled back, glaring down at his chest, where pink spots were blooming, spreading. Without thinking, Yugo pressed the button on the handle and splashed the remaining water into the man’s face.
Scalded again, Rick sprang back, losing his grip on Yugo’s jacket as his hand repeatedly brushed the burning drops off his chest. One side of his face reddened, murder flaring in his flinty eyes.
Yugo’s clothes got soaked through, but after passing two layers of fabric, the water had cooled enough not to burn. His shirt stuck to his forearm, and the sleeve of his jacket became heavy. It wasn’t a drastic change, but he feared it would hinder his movements enough to put him at a further disadvantage.
“Here!” Yugo threw the kettle at Rick’s chest, and the man instinctively grabbed it with both hands. With a satisfied hum, Yugo booted him in the stomach to buy himself a second. With a slow, strained exhale, Rick stumbled back, muscles flexing under his wet skin. He hurled the kettle aside. It hit the floorsomewhere by the window and clattered into the shadowed corner.
A few seconds of distraction was enough for Yugo to wrench free from his jacket and toss it aside.
“You’re terrible at following orders, dog. Wasn’t that why you were discharged from the service? You should have learned your lesson. It would have saved your life. Maybe.” Yugo rolled the metallic taste on his tongue, spat out some blood into the mess of water and ceramic shards.
“I’ll wipe it clean with your fucking face,” Rick promised, squaring his shoulders.
Yugo backed away, his hand sliding along the infuriatingly empty kitchen counter. A knife would be welcome right now, but he didn’t want to start opening the drawers and giving his opponent new ideas. Half a head taller, with cords of lean muscle, Rick had long limbs and looked like he’d imbibed steroids with his mother’s milk. He was also naked except for his black boxers. Rick’s lack of clothes provided an additional advantage, as Yugo still had enough layers to grab and toss around like a rag doll.
The prospect of dancing in circles with a half-decent, physically refreshed fighter, let alone this gorilla from the Special Forces, did not bode well for exhausted and intoxicated Yugo. He regretted leaving the gun at home. It would have saved him so much hassle.
A glance searching for a weapon was nearly cut short by a fist aimed at his eye. Yugo’s elbow ached as he blocked Rick’s left cross with it just in time. The force absorbed into his bones rattled his nerves, and an annoying numbness settled in his shoulder.
Despite the sinking realization that he’d have to take Rick to the floor to win this fight, Yugo aimed a straight front kick at Rick’s knee to break his stance and set back the shrinking distance between them. Hopping back, he raised his hand and shook it to get the blood flowing again. Sensation returned to his numb shoulder.
If I don’t break the pattern, a few well-aimed punches will knock me out cold. Greg will laugh his ass off.With a long, calming exhalation, Yugo focused. Gears turned in his mind, searching for his opponent’s weaknesses.
Rick’s movements were precise in his attempts to close the distance enough for his long limbs to reach the target, but not too close for Yugo to reach him back. His physicaldisadvantage infuriated Yugo.
Rick’s feet were firmly planted on the floor, shoulder-width apart, right foot staggered forward, hands raised to protect his head. He was done mindlessly attacking and now regarded Yugo with equal attention.
Rick shifted his balance to his rearleg, with fluid movement. This, together with the long cylindrical punching bag hanging in the middle of the room, gaveYugo enough reason to believe thatRick was a left-handed kickboxer, or maybe he was using a left-handed stance to confuse him. Like Greg, Rick’s extra layer of muscle reduced his speed and agility; not much, but Yugo thought he was faster.
Yugo slunk closer, mirroring Rick’s pose. Keeping his left foot outside of Rick’s right one for distance control, he probed his opponent’s defenses with two left jabs to the head and a right hook to the throat. The man flinched away, covering up with forearms. Two quick kicks followed, leaving pink marks on Rick’s right calf and thigh. Yugo leaped back.
The adrenaline coursing through Yugo’s veins burned away the remnants of alcohol from his blood.
“Human trash…” The puppies howled in response to their master’s war cry, as his roundhouse kick flashed in front of Yugo’s eyes, making him swerve back and away from the kitchen counter to avoid being pinned against it.
The seemingly large room ended abruptly with his calves bumping against the dog cage. The puppies growled and barked, wanting to aid their master by catching Yugo’s ankles with their sharp teeth.
“Back off!” Yugo’s heel slammed into the side of the cage with a loudBANG, causing the puppies to jump away only to fling themselves against the bars with renewed force.
A moment’s distraction almost cost Yugo dearly when Rick fired a knee to his gut. Yugo darted to the side on pure instinct. Rick’s shin grazed the edge of the cage. High on adrenaline, the pups also barked at their master.
“Hush!” Rick hissed, slamming his palm down on the metal edge with an angry thud, a scarlet line spreading across his shin, beading with blood.
Cringing from the loud noise, Yugo began to doubt Kuon’s presence. The former cop wouldn’t ignore such havoc, and hiding wasn’t in his character.Then where the fuck is he, and why is the gorilla fighting? To buy Kuon time to escape?
Rick twirled, teeth bared. Without breaking eye contact, Yugo backed toward the center of the room, widening his stance and hunching forward, hands held level with his chest.
Despite the quick brawl, the heady scent of sweat permeated the air. Waves of rage cast a nearly visible red mist asthe atmosphere darkened.
Black eyes promised death as Rick lunged at him. The muscles in his neck were taut, the thick veins popping up and crawling up his chin and temples, swelling under his eyes. The corner of Yugo’s mouth twitched. Anger was a bad adviser. He’d learned that long ago, but who was he to deny Rick a lesson?
A hellish hail of punches rained down on Yugo’s stomach and arms. His body moved on its own, shifting out of the attack’s line and ramming his shin into Rick’s thigh.
Weaving to the left, Yugo let another punch miss his face by a hair to drive his elbow into Rick’s neck, then he tucked in and followed the motion with a roll. His other sleeve was soaked as well. His palm landed on a ceramic shard—not sharp enough to cut but painfully annoying for him to lose a moment and reposition his hand.
