Liam pumped his legs faster, his boots barely slapping against the pavement. He must reach her in time.
Penny, Penny, Penny!
9
Penny heard the wheezing breath seconds before hard fingers dug into her arm, pulling her roughly to the left.
‘Fucking hell!’ She didn’t need to see the man to know the guard had followed her. His stench identified him, even through the rain.
‘You’ll regret ever messin’ wif me, you little bitch,’ the hulk of a man hissed in her ear as he shoved her against a sagging brick building. Penny’s head cracked on the stone wall and white lights flashed behind her eyes. Before she could reach in her pocket for the knuckles, he grabbed her wrist, wrenching it up and holding it over her head, the rough brick ripping skin from the back of her hand as he cruelly leaned his weight against her.
Penny used her free hand to reach for his face, gouging her thumb into his eye. His guttural cry erupted in a rush of rotten breath. He took a step back, loosening his grip enough for her to twist her wrist free and snatch at the hat pin. Anything could be a weapon. A lesson she learned well in prison. She ripped the pin free and slammed the sharp copper spike into the man’s neck, sinking the pin an inch deep.
He howled in pain, stumbling backward. Penny turned to run, her hat flying off without the pin to hold it in place. She slammed into another man, this one taller and harder than his friend.
Bugger!
This wasn’t good. She could handle one large man. Two would be more difficult. But Penny didn’t back down from a challenge. Especially when she had no other choices. It was unfortunate that this particular challenge reeked of pickled herring and raw onions.
‘She stuck me like a pig!’ The guard behind her squealed, much like the animal he described.
‘And you’ll be next if you don’t move aside.’ Penny clenched her mouth together to stop the trembling. All out of hat pins, she reached into her coat pocket for the brass knuckles and found the apple instead. Whipping it out, she chucked it hard at the man in front of her. It smacked him in the cheek.
His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they narrowed. Touching his cheek, his lips tilted in a terrifying smile. ‘I like my ladies wif a bit of fire. Makes me all warm inside, dunnit?’ Unlike his friend, his teeth were perfect and his eyes crinkled kindly, but evil flashed like a blade in their depths. Fear wrapped icy fingers around Penny’s chest. The guard was filthy and grotesque, but this man was even more terrifying in his oily charm.
She put her hand back in her pocket, opting for the knuckles this time. Not waiting for his attack, Penny struck first. She rushed forward and slammed the brass knuckles into his cheek in a right hook, aiming for where the apple had created a helpful red mark. His face snapped to the side and blood spattered on the walk.
The blighter blocked her exit, so Penny dodged to the left, hoping to slip by as he recovered from her punch. If she could getpast him, the busy main road was only thirty paces ahead. But the bastard recovered faster than she guessed. His hand flicked out, snatching her coat. The ripping sound of material was her only warning before he yanked her back. His fist slammed into her face, cracking her cheekbone and creating an explosion of light as she reeled from the force. The pain would come later, and it would be bad. Stumbling back, she refused to give up her feet. If Penny fell, he would kick her, and she didn’t want to end this battle with cracked ribs.
Wiping her hand over her cheek, she noted the sticky blood. Anger flared, washing out any fear and replacing it with determination.
‘That wasn’t very nice. Weren’t you taught not to hit girls?’ She tightened her grip on the knuckles and slid her left foot back, angling her body to be a smaller target for the brute. This time, she’d let him come to her.
‘You want nice, love? I can give you nice.’ The bastard smiled again, moving to the side and closer, forcing her to pivot.
He lunged into her jabbing range, his hips giving him away. Penny was able to dodge his wild grab for her hair and in the fraction of an opening he offered, she hit hard. The crunching sound of teeth against metal made her smile as she leaped back.
The man spat something to the ground and lifted his hand to his bloody mouth. His eyes widened in horror. ‘That wath my fucking tooth,’ he lisped. His eyes hardened into obsidian specks. ‘You bitch.’ His left front tooth was a gaping black hole, and his right was broken and jagged.
‘Oh dear. And you had such a lovely smile. Maybe try to keep your mouth shut moving forward.’ Penny kept her guard up. An emotional opponent was far easier to conquer and inspiring his rage was an easy thing.
She was ready as he bellowed like a bull and charged. In the half-second before his huge body crashed into hers, she spunright, slamming her elbow into his cheek as he flew past and smashed into the wall behind her. He face-planted into the brick with a resounding smack.
Penny had a clear path to the main road, but as she turned to run, the guard – her hat pin still embedded in his neck – kicked out from where he writhed on the filthy cobblestones, catching her ankle.
Penny cried out as she fell. The apple bounced out of her pocket, smashing into pieces on the cobbles.
The bastard with a broken mouth turned, his nose a spray of red, the brick wall having broken it in his crash. He would soon have two black eyes to go along with the gap in his teeth. He growled and took three steps toward her.
Pushing to her feet, Penny ignored the screaming protest from her ankle. It wasn’t broken. She could put weight on it, but it would be bruised and battered come morning. If she were alive to see the dawn. Turning her back on the brute was unwise, so instead, she turned her back on escape and faced him. She learned her lesson well. He was fast. If she ran, he would catch her. Flight wasn’t an option.
So, fight it is.
Penny rolled her head and lifted her fists. She had faced worse than this as a child in the prison. Weakness was an invitation for death. She wouldn’t show these two idiots an ounce of it.
Boots slapped the wet cobblestone behind her. A new player had entered the field.
The unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked created oddly distinct reactions in each of them.
