Lou scrambled up to a kneeling position, one hand out beside him on the ground, propping him up.

“Okay, Boy Scout,” he sneered. “Let’s go.”

Suddenly he flung out the hand that had been on the ground. A cloud of sand and dirt showered my face, stinging my eyes.

Shit –

I was expecting him to tackle or punch me while I was blind, so I backed away as I wiped at my watering eyes – but I only heard him scrabbling up to a standing position.

I heard it before I saw it – the snick! of the switchblade as the blade flicked out.

“JACK, WATCH OUT!” Fiona screamed. “HE’S GOT A KNIFE!”

I saw the glint of steel just in time, and stepped back out of the way as it flashed past me.

Lou slashed the air again and again, advancing every time – and each time I backed up.

Fiona ran down the ramp.

I knew what she was doing – she was going for one of the guns – either Lou’s Colt, or the Glock I’d thrown away.

She was planning on finishing him to save me.

Lou knew it, too, because he tried to fake me out with a jab – and then he gave it his all, slashing at me hard.

I dodged him – but I was busy watching his right hand, the one with the knife.

Not his left hand, which connected with my jaw.

God dammit!

It wasn’t much of a punch – he threw it with no wind-up, no power, basically just a love-tap – but it was enough to hurt. Enough to distract me.

And now I was caught between the horns of a bull.

If I went for the knife, he would use his left hand to grab my gun from the back of my jeans.

If I went for his left hand, he’d stab me. Same thing if I tried to pull my gun – he’d have a brief second to attack.

So instead, I did what any good street fighter would do:

I stepped in close and head-butted the motherfucker.

Lou staggered backwards, stunned.

I had one second before he recovered.

I used it.

The most powerful punch I had, right to the asshole’s nose.

BAM!

Lou staggered backwards in a shower of blood.

I grabbed his knife-hand and brought his forearm down as I kicked up with my knee – just like I was breaking a branch over my thigh.

Sounded like one, too.

SNAP!

Lou screamed and dropped the knife.

One more punch to the jaw and he went down.

I dropped on top of him, knees on either side of his chest, and just started pounding his face. Punch after punch, hard as I could throw them.

WHAM

“THAT’S for threatening my woman, you motherfucker!” I roared at him.

WHAM.

“And THAT’S for Kade!”

WHAM.

“And THAT’S for Ali!”

WHAM.

That was when I lost control. Something inside me snapped.

My vision went hazy and red. There was a ringing in my ears.

I just kept hitting him, over and over –

“And THAT’S for the club – ”

WHAM.

“And THAT’S for Benjy – ”

WHAM.

“AND THIS IS FOR ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

CRACK!

I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I spun around in an animal rage, staggering off of Lou, ready to kill somebody, anybody –

Fiona stood there, her face horrified, mouthing my name.

I couldn’t hear her. The ringing in my ears was too loud.

That was when I noticed ten guys in helmets and tactical gear standing around us in a circle, assault rifles aimed at my head. Across their black bulletproof vests were white block letters: DEA.

I looked around in wonder, feeling drunk and stupid.

Where did THOSE guys come from?

The ringing began to fade, and I heard Fiona’s voice: “Jack… Jack…”

Agent Fordham strolled out from between two DEA troopers. He was dressed in black, too, but no helmet.

He gave me the once-over, then looked at something behind me on the ground.

I turned and followed his gaze.

Lou was dead. He had to be; his face didn’t resemble anything human anymore.

I looked down at my own hands, bloody and swollen and split across the knuckles.

Shit.

I’d lost it.

I looked at Fordham as he peered at Lou’s corpse. “Well, you did a number on him, didn’t you.”

I didn’t know what to say, but Fiona spoke up. “He admitted to killing Eddie.”

Fordham looked at her in shock. “He what?”

“He was taunting us, trying to get us to say something and reveal where we were. He… he basically said he killed Eddie.”

Fordham looked at me for confirmation. I nodded mutely, and he stared back down at Lou’s corpse.

“Piece of shit,” he said under his breath. Then he turned back to the SWAT team. “Looks like self-defense to me.”

And just like that, all the DEA agents lowered their guns.

Fiona ran into my arms, and I held her tighter than I’d ever held anybody in my entire life.