Dirty English

A LITTLE AFTER midnight, my dad dropped me off at my flat. We said goodbye, and maybe I sensed something new between us. Respect? I didn’t know, but we had spent the last few hours at a steak place, working through the details about a huge-ass loan I was taking from him. I’d had to swallow some of my pride to ask, but in the end it was worth a future with Elizabeth. Maybe she was okay with my illegal fighting, but I didn’t want to put any kind of stress on our relationship. Reality had hit me like a ton of bricks last night as I’d held her in my arms. Yeti wouldn’t be my last illegal fight, and there’d never be enough money for the gym. Of course, I’d given him a choice: either he gave me a loan or I continued to fight. He’d been furious at first, especially since he hadn’t known about the fighting, but in the end, he’d agreed to a loan.

I climbed the steps to the stairs and popped open my phone to search for a text from Elizabeth. She’d sent me a few, the last one around eleven.

Should I let her sleep and talk to her tomorrow?

I stopped in front of her door and knocked but didn’t get an answer.

I knocked again. Her car was there.

Did she not want to talk to me?

Was she tired from last night?

I stalked back to my place and unlocked the door. Just as I was opening the door to go inside, something pricked at me. I stepped back onto the breezeway, a sense of urgency gnawing at me.

I scanned the carpark. All looked well.

But then…

My eyes went to Minnie’s Diner across the street. Parked in the back was a sports car, its lines sleek and powerful even in the dark. Porsche?

What the fuck?

BANG!

My shoulder crashed into the door and the cheap wood cracked. I rammed my hand inside and turned the knob. I don’t know why I didn’t just run back into my place and cross over the balcony¸ but this seemed faster.

A light burned from underneath her bedroom door and I headed that way. It was locked too. Fuck!

I kicked in the door and slipped inside, ready to kill whoever was here.

But what I saw made me pause, every nightmare ever imagined playing out in front of me.

Colby stood behind a bound and gagged Elizabeth on her knees, a knife at her throat.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, pushing the knife in far enough that blood bloomed on her neck and dripped down.

I jerked to a halt and held my hands up. “It’s cool. Just don’t hurt her, and all of this will work out.”

He inhaled sharply, his cold eyes leveled at me. “Oh? Like you hurt me?” He tightened his grip around her shoulders, and I watched as her eyes flared wide.

I wanted to rip his throat out with my bare hands. My chest heaved and it sounded loud in the quiet room as we faced off.

“I don’t see a way out of this that works for you,” I said softly, backing away from him while angling myself toward her dresser.

He grunted. “I do. You think you can touch me? Don’t you know who I am?”

I nodded. Oh, I knew exactly who he was. He’d hurt my Elizabeth.

I looked at her. “It’s going to be okay, love. I got this, okay. I will never let anything bad happen to you, got it?”

She nodded.

“Shut up! Stop talking!” he yelled at me, his knuckles white, still holding the knife against her throat as he pulled her up and forced her to walk to the bathroom. He shoved her inside and she fell to the floor. “Get in there until I figure out what to do with both of you.” He slammed the door and paced around me, his face contorted in a snarl. He eyed me warily, taking in my body.

I made myself look small, huddling in the corner. Waiting. He was bound to make a move with the knife, and I had to be ready.

The sound of sirens pierced the silence.

Feral eyes roamed around the room as if looking for the origin of the sound and then focused on me. “You called the cops.” He tightened his grip on the knife.

I shook my head. “It’s a college town. Cops are out everywhere. You can still leave and nothing bad will have happened. I don’t want to hurt you.”

God, I wanted to kill him.

I was going to kill him .

The sirens got louder and louder, and he paused, his head cocked toward the balcony. The flash of blue lights came in through the window, and he looked back at me, his eyes bulging with rage.

I lunged for him, avoiding the hand with the knife.

We fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and the knife skittered across the floor.

Fists flew, mostly mine, but some of his hits connected with my bruises and I flinched, ripples of pain in my body.

I tore into him with palm strikes and punches.

He might be a crazed fighter hoped up on adrenaline, but I was the goddamfucking talent.

And I was going to kill him.

My strikes zeroed in on his temple. A palm strike to the face, one to the ribs, and another to the liver.

His head dangled, wobbling like a broken doll’s. His eyes shut.

He was out.

I exhaled, the sound of Elizabeth beating on the bathroom door permeating my senses.

I wiped my face, feeling the trickle of blood. I didn’t want to scare her more than she already had been. I stood and looked around for something to tie up Colby with before I’d let Elizabeth out here.

A red-hot pain sliced into my leg. Colby had come to—had he ever been out?—and had grabbed the knife and plunged it into my thigh.

I roared, the rage in me skyrocketing. The room spiraled as I spun around and launched myself on top of Colby. I slammed a fist into his face. Another to his groin.