I took wide strides to make it quickly into the clearing, Sarah’s loud gasp announcing my presence.
Ben whipped around, rage distorting his face.
“I think someone needs to teach you the meaning of no,” I said, moving close enough for him to acknowledge the weapon at my side with the quick drop and rebound of his gaze.
“Go back to your tent. This doesn’t concern you,” he growled angrily.
“I disagree.”
He lifted his gun carelessly—dangerously—aiming it right at me. “Get back—”
Sarah screamed, and I took advantage of the nanosecond of distraction. I dropped my makeshift axe to the ground and lunged for Ben’s Colt. In a split second, I’d taken it from his grasp, dropped the mag to the ground, and whipped the body into the dark woods.
Humiliation was like steroids to the anger of small men.
“You fucker!” Ben snarled, crazed, as he swung at me. I ducked and avoided the punch, sending him stumbling and almost losing his balance. “I’m going to kill you for this. She’s mine. She’s supposed to be mine.”
He spun around to face me, and a flash of lightning caught the switchblade now open at his side.
Dammit.
Ben charged again, but this time, as I sidestepped the arc of the blade, I slipped on the wet underbrush and didn’t make it out of his way fast enough.
Fuck.The curse bloomed from the white-hot slice of pain.
I grabbed my side and quickly moved into a defensive position several feet away. Gritting my teeth, I pressed my fingers around the wound. The broad stroke of the knife left a superficial cut along my side, but no major damage. It fell into thelooked worse than it wascategory, and therefore wasn’t something I could worry about now.
“Ha,” Ben cackled. “Just a taste of what I’m going to do to you.”
“Look, Ben, it doesn’t have to end this way. Just put the knife down and walk away. No one needs to get hurt,” I said, my hands lifted like I’d be willing to surrender if he did.
“Says the man who’s already wounded. You just know you’re going to lose.” Confidence inflated not only his threats but also his actions. He charged again so wildly, he should’ve been swinging for a home run, not trying to stab someone.
This time, I anticipated the terrain better, not only veering to the side but also spinning and driving my palm into the center of his back, sending him tripping forward and crashing to his knees.
Two steps brought me right back to my starting position—and the place where I’d dropped my weapon.
“You’re either going to stop this now and walk away, or you’re going to look like a fool. Again,” I warned, picking up my axe.
I tried to give him an easy way out—again. For some reason, the bad guys never seemed to take it.
“Then I’ll get rid of both of you and take your whore instead,” he snarled and, with a look of pure insanity, turned for Sarah.
She screamed, and my arm swung in a sure, short arc, the axe slicing through the air and burying into his shoulder.
Ben roared and collapsed to his knees, grappling for the blade lodged in his flesh.
I didn’t waste any time—I didn’t have any of it to waste.
“I’m ... going ... to ...” His threat sputtered into silence as I came up behind him, wrapped my arm around his neck, holding tight enough to send him into unconsciousness.
He dropped like a Slinky to the ground.
“Oh my god. Is he—oh my god ...” Sarah cupped her hands over her mouth, her face oscillating between a shade of white and green.
“He’s passed out, but he’ll survive.” Unfortunately.
Her head volleyed back and forth as I walked by her into the tent and ripped two strips of cloth from the bedsheet. I would’ve preferred a zip tie or cuffs, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
