"I promise you that you don't want to do this, because if you do, I'm going to be forced to kick your arse. And then when I do, you know, police will get involved, and my brother will be quite cross. So let's walk away from this, okay?"
"You? The only thing you are going to do is to lie beneath me and show me just how sorry you are. Even better, use your mouth. There is one good thing about Black girls; your lips always look like you're ready to suck."
I didn't even think about it. The jab landed fast, quick, and effortless. As if I'd been trained to do it my whole goddamn life.
He growled at me and launched. I side-stepped, kicked my foot up just so that my boot planted, and tripped him.
He screamed as he scrambled for purchase then hit the ground face first. The problem was he was between me and the exit to the alley now.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Sure you are, and that’s why you are on the ground and I’m—"
He kicked out his foot and clipped just the edge of my boot, putting me off kilter. Then he rolled over, grabbing for me, climbing on top of me, and I was in that position. The one they warn you about in every single self-defense class, in every single training class.
Never ever, ever get on the ground.
The cold fear paralyzes you. The wicked doubt will have you ready to bargain.
Luckily, Gabe had been working with me on this scenario all my life. But I had to say, all those times he'd wrestled me when I was getting a little too big-headed, thinking that I knew how to fight, he was being gentle.
This geezer was not. He was pawing at me, trying to lick my neck. I shoved the bile down by swallowing hard.
Finally, I lifted my hips with a sharp thrust and rolled over to one side, delivering my elbow to his temple as he went down.
He howled in pain. And then I rolled to the other side, stepped one foot under my bent knee, and pushed myself to my feet.
I tasted blood. He'd bitten me. Jesus Christ. Fucking hell, human bites were the worst. They were more likely to get infected than dog bites.
Also, I touched the top of my head, and wiped away blood. I hoped to God it wasn't mine. It was going to be extra difficult to hide injuries from my brother. The bloke on the ground howled, "You're a fucking cunt."
"Says the idiot on the ground. You're going to stay there. I'm going to call 999. Get you some help and phone the police. You tried to assault me."
He spat, "Do you think anyone's going to believe you?" I frowned at that, because he had a point. "First of all, a girl outside a club, wearing leather pants, and basically a sequenced handkerchief for a top, yeah."
But I had to believe that sometimes people like to do the right thing. And besides maybe this would make him think twice about attacking the next girl.
I moved past him quickly toward the exit, and then he grabbed for me again.
He was faster than I thought, quick on his feet. He slammed me up against the wall, and I could feel the pinpoint of a knife against my neck. The howling fear began to attack my mental functionality.
"Oh my God."
"You're not so smart anymore, are you?"
I swallowed hard. "You don't want to go to jail tonight. Are you really going to kill me?"
His eyes were full of rage, having gone completely dark. "I'm not a murderer. I don't hurt women."
"Then what the fuck do you call this?"
"This is your fault. If you'd just been nice..."
I clamped my jaw shut. Do not antagonize him. This was bad. This was very bad. And I could feel the press of his erection against me, hard, insistent. I wanted to vomit, but I wasn't going to get that luxury today.
He leaned in. "If you were just fucking nice. I was being nice to you. Of all the women in there, you had my attention and you threw it away like I was nothing." He leaned even closer. I could smell the stench of liquor on his breath and his sweat. It was bitter, acrid, and it was swirling around me, trying to invade like some kind of alien parasite.
"Be nice now and I'll make it not hurt."
I waited until he was close enough as he leaned in, inhaling at my neck, and a shudder of revulsion snaked up my entire body. Closer. Closer.
And then I bit his ear, clamped down tight and held. He tried to yank it back, making his own ear tear, and he growled, clapping his hand over it. I held on and he dug the knife just a little tighter on my neck.
With his body trying to angle away, I had a little room. I delivered a knee strike. Sharp. Insistent. Deadly. When he didn't fully drop, I delivered another one followed by an elbow drive up under his chin. And this time after I delivered my blow, I twisted and snaked my arm around his neck, held him there, and delivered two knees to his groin. It was only then he sank down, the knife clattering on the cobblestone pavement. I inhaled sharply, stumbling away.
Was he dead? He groaned on the ground, and I got my confirmation he was still breathing. And as I stumbled toward the opening of the alley, a shadow of a man appeared.
With a yell, I staggered backward, nearly falling down.
"I see you rendered me useless.”
Then I realized it was him from the bar. Lock.
"I— He— Th-that guy…"
Suddenly, Lock was on me. His enormous hands wrapped around my upper arms, gently but firm enough to keep me standing. "Fuck, you're bleeding."
And then he looked past me to the arsehole on the ground. "I'm going to fucking kill him."
I wrapped my hand into the front of his shirt. "He's already down. I just need to call 999."
"Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you come out here by yourself."
"No, I— Oh God, I just need to find my mate so I can leave."
He studied me closely. "You're not okay."
"No, I'm fine. It's just a little blood."
"It's not fine. He needs to pay for this."
I reached in my back pocket and pulled out the asshole's wallet. “I have his name. I can report him.”
Lock gave me an unusual mile. His gaze still burning hot and intense, he looked desperate to stride over to Adam Paul's still prone body.
I tugged on his shirt, forcing his attention back on me. "I'm okay. I'm okay, all right? Please."
“I’m just going to have a brief chat with him,” he growled.
I tugged him to me. “No. Leave him. He’s not worth it.”
“He put his hands on you. I promise, killing him is worth it.”
“Look, do we want to spend time together or fuck with him?”
With a sigh, he nodded. "Okay, we need to get you cleaned up."
"It can't be that bad." I felt fine, but I did notice the trickle of blood.
"It is. You're bleeding." And then he examined my neck. "You're bleeding from the neck too. Did he do that?"
"He got fancy with a knife.”
“Fucking hell. I’ll kill him."
Fury surged in his eyes when he glanced at the idiot on the ground, and I stopped him again. "I'm fine, Lock, I just… I can't go inside. I need to text Tabs and tell her to meet me."
"Come on, you're coming with me."
I hesitated for a moment, pulling back. "No, I— Tabs, I want to go to her and get cleaned up. Spend the night.”