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“Obviously, dummy!” she called out. “I’m gonna run to the restroom really quick before we go.”
“Alright,” I answered and stepped into my boots. Wrapping my hand around the doorknob, I tugged it open.
And as if a hot coal split beneath my skin, pain shot through my left arm.
My eyes darted down to the pocketknife protruding from the side of my forearm as a body barreled into me. Slammed against the floor, all oxygen rushed from my lungs in a short grunt. My head pounded, my arm throbbed, and I gasped for air.
Pressure dug against my stomach, pinning me beneath my attacker.
A fist flashed toward my face. Slapping my palm against his wrist, redirecting the punch that should’ve connected with the side of my skull, his knuckles rammed into my shoulder. A blast of adrenaline snapped through my body, bringing my entire focus to the hazy, faceless figure above me. Fumbling for my waistband as this unknown man sat up and raised his other hand, my fingers found an empty holster.
Crap.
Gnarly, yellow teeth met my vision as his fist rammed into my jaw. Spit spewed from my lips as the force vibrated through my head. Despite the splitting pain ricocheting up my arm from the stab wound, I swung a counter jab. Knuckles cracking against his jaw sent blood flying through the air.
Another blow rammed into my ribs, forcing the last bit of oxygen to rush from my lungs. Crunching sideways from the wave of indescribable pain, I swung blindly at the shadowed, blurry face hovering above me, gasping for air and missed, instead knocking the pocketknife loose.
“CASSIDY!” Briar screamed, her footsteps pounding toward us.
“NO! Stay away!” I shouted. The attacker looked up, momentarily distracted, and I threw a last ditch punch. My fist connected with the underside of his jaw.
Bones crunched, his head flew backwards as jolting agony ripped through my wrist. But he was caught off guard. Using his momentum, I tucked sideways, wrapping my arm around his body, and rolled into him as hard as I could.
My turn.
On top, in the advantageous position, my knuckles rammed against his nose, again and again. Hooking my heels around his legs, I kept him plastered to the ground and unable to fight back. The blood flowing from his face increased with every blow, mixing with the iron liquid dripping down my arm and seeping from my cracked knuckles.
Drunk on adrenaline, long past feeling pain, rage like an animal flew from every blow that landed against his face. His palm began mindlessly smacking the floor to the side, so without looking away, I used my peripherals to see him grasping for my gun that was just out of reach.
But there was no way he’d be able to get it, so all of my strained focus returned to the man below me. His other arm reached up, attempting to hook my bicep or anything to block my next blow, but I rammed an elbow against it, deterring his attempted hold.
And he slammed a fist to the side of my ribs again. Spit flew from my mouth, crashing against his face that was quickly becoming unrecognizable as I didn’t let up. Again. Again. My knuckles railed into him.
Dazed, the world spinning, my head pounding, all sounds around me muted. His arms finally flopped to the side, whether conscious or not, I didn’t know. But I kept going. Desperation to end this filled my soul, and my fingers found the bloodied pocket knife laying on the floor. I raised it into the air.
A hand wrapped around my wrist, jolting me to a halt.
“No! Don’t!” A voice I didn’t recognize commanded. The only thing that stopped me from plunging it into this faceless man’s neck was the fingers restraining me. Straddling the attacker, blood and spit dripping from my own lips, I stared down at the blurry figure I’d almost killed.
His face was swollen, unrecognizable. Red iron flowed freely from his nose that twisted in the wrong direction. Purple bruises swelled his eyes shut, and short, shallow breaths raised his chest sporadically. Panting, my blind rage slowly slunk back into its cage deep within the recesses of my mind, recognizing the crisis that had been averted.
Opening my fingers, the knife clattered to the floor beside the man barely twitching below me. My vision settled, normal daily sounds resumed, and I blinked the sweat away from my eyes.
Red and blue flashed through the windows, lighting up my kitchen and living room like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Several footsteps pounded into my house, and whoever was holding onto my wrist helped me rise to my unsteady feet.
Surveying my surroundings, confusion bubbled in my stomach as my eyes connected with the policeman standing beside me. “Sheriff Jones?” I shakily questioned. “How’d you get here so fast?”
“We were already on our way,” the dark-haired, thin man replied.
Glancing away from the scene around me, my gaze rested on Briar. Her eyes narrowed, anger washed over her features, and she suddenly marched away from the deputy standing next to her.
Before any of us were able to stop her, she cocked a fist back and pummeled the guy straight against his nose.
“STAY AWAY FROM US!” she shouted in defiance.
And then she jumped at me and wrapped her legs around my waist. It was a good thing some adrenaline was still rolling hot through my veins, or we would’ve crashed to the floor.
“He was going to kill you!” she cried out through sobs.
