Page 44 of Two Favors Repaid

The baseball bat came out of nowhere and slammed the gun. Rob grunted in pain as his hand reflexively opened and dropped the gun. The bat came again, a horizontal swing aimed for his jaw. Rob twisted to avoid it and felt the wood whooshing by just inches away from his face.

Shit, if that’d hit me, I’d be out of commission.

Rob drove himself towards his attacker. A bat might be a good weapon to surprise someone with, but it was absolutely useless if one didn’t have the reach. There was no way he was going to give his attacker another chance to brain him.

Rob’s eyes watered from the smoke, and for a moment he feared he’d missed. Then his left hand grabbed onto a wool sweater. He held on tight and drove his right fist upwards, aiming for the man’s jaw.

The man grunted and Rob heard the bat hit the ground.

One less thing to worry about.

Rob hit again, looking to press his advantage. This time he connected with something solid—hopefully his nose. He was going for a third punch when he felt wool tear between his fingers. Free to move again, the man feinted left and raced to the kitchen area. Rob followed. He could navigate his boat with his eyes closed.

There was less smoke now, and Rob found himself face-to-face with Stephen Ford. Ford had a couple inches on him and was built like a brick shithouse, but Rob wasn’t scared. He was ten years younger than Ford and had a lot more riding on this fight.

Rob sneaked a look at the tablet, showing a treacherous little green light.

How the fuck did he disable the alarm?

“It’s good to see you again, Rob,” Ford boomed. His blue eyes glinted with madness. Perhaps he was only now letting it show. Or perhaps it had always been there and it was only because they were all so conditioned to respecting the medical profession than nobody had ever noticed.

“You should have gone to Mexico,” Rob said in a low voice.

“Ah, the FBI is following my crumb trail, aren’t they? It wasn’t hard to set up, but I’m glad to hear that.”

Rob sneaked a glance behind him, searching for his gun. It was nowhere to be found.

“How did you do it?” he asked casually. The longer he could keep the man talking, the higher the chances Susan and Darryl would get here.

Ford looked like he was about to answer then suddenly drove his body forward in a flurry of punches. Rob protected his head but left his middle open to attack, and Ford landed a couple heavy hits to his ribcage that made Rob see stars.

Rob tried to jump back, but Ford grabbed him and slammed Rob’s head down onto the kitchen table. The right side of Rob’s face took the brunt of the impact, and he grunted, tasting blood. The man’s speed and strength were astonishing. Rob knew that this was one of the most dangerous opponents he’d ever faced, but there was too much riding on this for him to lose.

Rob feigned an uppercut with his left then rammed his right fist into Ford’s midriff. He watched his fist sink into the man’s belly with a muted thump. He followed with another punch, knowing the man’s nervous system would be frozen, trying to drive air back into his lungs.

Ford inexplicably blocked his punch.

Rob leaned back in surprise. The cut over his eye bled freely now, so Rob almost missed the knife that suddenly appeared in Ford’s left hand. Rob wasn’t a knife expert, but he knew the large, curved blade would do serious damage if it reached him.

Rob looked behind him for his own knife drawer and lunged for it, unfortunately tripping over the still smoldering bucket in the middle of the hallway.

Ford laughed and grabbed Rob, once again launching him towards the coffee table. Rob managed to grab onto Ford at the last second so both men flew together. It was the worst luck that Rob’s head was the one to strike the corner when they landed.

Rob reached up feebly, but there were two Fords in front of him now and two knives glinting in the distance. Ford struck him again on the side of the jaw, turning his face.

“So satisfying,” the man crowed. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months.”

Holding on to consciousness by a thread, Rob waited for the man to slice open his jugular. Ford must have read his thoughts.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said amiably. He tugged on Rob’s arms and pulled them behind his arms, bringing out a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “I know my friend Emma’s in there. Call her out, will you?”

In your wildest dreams.

Rob shook his head and pressed his lips together.

His thoughts fuzzy, Rob tried to think of how long it’d been. Surely Susan must be almost here by now.

“She’s not going to open the door for you,” he said weakly.