Page 77 of Erase Me
So, sarcasm wasn’t off the agenda, after all.
The attacker had the lean, defined muscles of a gymnast.He immediately launched a flying kick head high.
Reed sidestepped and the attacker sailed by, landing closer to me.As he rolled to his feet, I grabbed his wrist and yanked to keep him off-balance.A knee to his ribs doubled him over, and a second knee to his face put him down for good.
Reed threw a surprised glance my way, but then the second fighter was on him.
This one was lithe, quick, and clearly more skilled.The two engaged in a dazzling exchange of punches, blocks, and parries.
Despite my urge to jump in, Reed had it under control.The assailant made a fatal mistake, lunging at the wrong moment.Reed swiftly turned the tables, launching him over his shoulder.The man crashed onto the coffee table, demolishing it and sending wine glasses flying.Two bottles rolled across the floor as Reed delivered the finishing blows with precise chops to the thug’s throat.
In a blink, Reed was by my side.“Are you okay?”
“Not if I have to pay for that table,” I quipped.
He snorted.Before he could come up with a snappy reply, though, the latch splintered, and the apartment door swung open with a bang.
The first to enter was a towering figure, a giant whose sheer size demanded attention.His broad shoulders strained against the confines of his leather jacket, and his imposing stature filled the doorway.
“I’ve got this one,” Reed said.
“I’m shocked,” I replied with a straight face.
Before the intruder could regain his balance from delivering the forceful kick, Reed responded with a swift front kick squarely to the guy’s chest.The intruder had a pry bar in his hand that he didn’t get to use.The last I saw of him, he was sailing backward over the railing.The drop from the top of the outside landing had to be around thirty feet or so, but I had a pretty good idea the pavement at the bottom wasn’t a comfortable landing spot.
The next one led with a pistol as he came in.Bad move.
“Got it,” I murmured, already knowing I wouldn’t get the opportunity.
I didn’t.Reed cut me off.
“Seriously?”
Before the guy could fully cross the threshold, Reed was on him like a tornado on a small town.
A door jamb works very well as the fulcrum of a lever.Grabbing his wrist, Reed cranked it hard against the splintered wood frame.The cracking of the bones in the forearm was sharp, putting the hand out of commission.The pistol clattered to the floor, and with a swift kick, Reed sent it skidding away.
Another goon was trying to get around the gunman, who was currently clutching his broken arm and jerking backward and howling with pain.The two were momentarily tangled up.
Before they got untangled, Reed shoved fiercely at the shoulder attached to the broken arm, eliciting a scream that was probably heard all the way to the beach.It didn’t last long, though, because they were playing follow the leader over the railing.
“I’m bored here,” I wisecracked.“Give me something to do.”
“Avalie,” his tone carried a hint of warning.“I told you?—”
Before he could finish, two more guys burst through the door.
Reed deftly ducked under a length of angle iron that the first one swung at his head.He drove a fist into the solar plexus of the young bruiser and leveled him with two forearms to the jaw.
The man behind him was small, wiry, and quick.He was brandishing a collapsible baton.Dropping low, he lashed out with it with the speed of a striking cobra.He was aiming higher, but the weapon caught Reed on the side of the shin, staggering him momentarily.
Seeing his advantage, he drew back to take a swing at Reed’s face.
Before he could, I got one hand on his baton arm and spun into him.My elbow connected directly with his forehead, causing his small head to snap back.Following up with a swift chop to his throat, he crumpled into a heap in the corner.
Reed began to say something, then suddenly reached out and spun me to the side.I hit the wall at a velocity that didn’t give me a particularly warm feeling about the situation.But as I looked up at the new attacker, I had a few seconds to size him up.
To put it mildly, he was a nightmare of giant proportions.
