Page 14 of Trip
Without regard for my own safety, I blow through stop signs. In some places where I know I can get away with it, I go double the speed limit. The only thing that matters is getting to Julia as quickly as possible.
When I get to her place, the only thing amiss is the front door hanging wide open. Also, notably, it’s quiet. There aren’t any signs of life, and that worries me even more than the open door. During that phone call, Julia was loud. She was yelling, doing everything she could to get someone else’s attention.
Now, it’s eerie.
With my hand on the gun nestled in its holster on my belt, I make my approach. As much as I want to run in there without a care for stealth, I have no idea what this intruder is doing or what he’s capable of. For all I know, he’ll see me rush in and pull the trigger on my girl or one of her sisters, and I can’t let that happen.
I promised to protect them.
As soon as I cross the threshold, the last bit of rational thought I was holding onto flies out the window. The intruder, a man with a few inches of height on me but considerably less muscle mass, stands over Julia. She’s bound, zip ties holding her hands behind her back and her ankles pressed against each other. And there is a strip of silver duct tape over that perfect mouth.
Something protective and animalistic flairs inside of me. I rush forward, grabbing the man’s shoulder and turning him around. I take a second to appreciate the surprise and fear in his eyes at being caught before I land a solid punch right in his stomach.
He doubles over, but somehow remains on his feet. With the last bit of air remaining in his lungs, he chokes out, “This doesn’t fucking concern you.”
“You have my girl tied up,” I spit, dodging his attempt to headbutt me. “This does fucking concern me.”
Instead of responding, the man decides to save his breath to try and fight me. He lunges forward, managing to take hold of my waist. He nearly sends me to the floor, thrashing harshly, but it’s obvious he’s still reeling from the surprise of being punched in the gut.
Whoever this fucker is, he’s good. He’s a competent fighter and knows how to play to his advantages. Unfortunately for him, I’m better. He doesn’t know how much grief I caused my sister growing up, picking fights with people twice my size and winning. He doesn’t know that in addition to hitting the gym, I knock heads alongside the Riders of Retribution regularly.
I’ve never lost a fight, even when the stakes were low. This is a struggle I can’t afford to lose, one that Irefuseto.
My elbow cracks down on the top of his head, causing him to jerk back and release me. His survival instincts seem to kick in, though. He reaches for my neck, growling when I sidestep the advance.
“Motherfucker,” he curses as he rushes at me again, this time landing a punch on my shoulder. “I’m the wrong fucking person to start shit with.”
“I could say the same about myself,” I grit my teeth, hating that he’s trying to use words to get under my skin.
We’re men. This is a fight with our fists. The only people that feel the need to talk during fights are people who know they’ve already lost.
I wish he’d just shut the fuck up and let me kill his ass.
That’s how this is going to end. As soon as I get enough room to pull my pistol, I’m shooting him. Right between his predatory fucking eyes. I’m going to give him exactly what he deserves for messing with Julia.
As her name crosses my mind, my eyes flit to where she’s lying on the floor. Her eyes are wide, not bothering to conceal her fear. She’s already seen and been through so much. No matter how badly I want to kill this man, I can’t do it in front of her. She doesn’t need the additional trauma of watching someone die, even if they were terrible to her.
So, I change my strategy. I won’t kill this man, not now at least. My goal is subduing him and getting Julia and her sisters out of here. Once I know they’re safe, I can kill him. Or torture him. Whatever punishment I decide is fitting.
I grab onto his shoulders and knee him in the stomach. He doesn’t go down or double over, ready for the blow this time.Still, it’s enough to make him take a step back. He puts his hands up, ready for a fist fight, and I mirror the action.
Taking the first swing, I connect with his jaw. His lip splits and blood trickles down his chin from the wound. When he swings, I easily duck it before popping back up to pound my fist into the side of his head.
“You fucker,” he growls, though I know it’s only because he’s losing. I won’t give into his desire for conversation.
We aren’t friends. This isn’t some fucking social gathering. Why the fuck do people want to talk so goddamn much.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I spit before I punch him in it.
That does the trick. He grunts before spitting blood and a tooth onto the carpet. With a smirk, I punch him again.
Somehow, he remains standing. He’s unsteady on his feet, swaying slightly as he raises his fists again. I have to give it to this man, he’s not going down easy. It’s too bad for him that his resilience is really pissing me off.
With one last final, decisive swing, I knock him out. He collapses onto the ground, his body going limp. Still, I stand over him for a moment, waiting to make sure that he’s actually unconscious. When I’m sure he’s not going to get up, I rush over to Julia.
Pulling out my pocket knife and flicking it open, I kneel beside her and cut her bonds. When her arms and legs are free, I glance at the tape over her mouth. I grab onto it, murmuring, “This is going to hurt, but I’m going to do it fast, okay?”
I wait for Julia to nod before tearing it off. She flinches, but doesn’t make a sound. As soon as I toss the tape to the side, Iwrap my arms around her and hug her to my chest. She collapses against me, tension quickly leaving her body.
