I’m somewhere outside of my own body, seeing only Ace’s fingers digging into J’s skin. The imprint of that moment, of her blue-green eyes begging for help is a continuous nightmare.
The fist that slams me in the jaw comes out of nowhere, but I would have seen it if I hadn’t lost control. I smack into the ground and pain explodes through my shoulder.
Ace’s friends come after me. The first one bounces on the balls of his feet, showing that he has some experience in boxing.
I wait for him to make a move, and he does, throwing a hard and fast left hook. I slide back to dodge the blow and notice the second guy coming up behind me too late. He grabs my neck and claws at my shirt, pulling my arms to pin them at my sides.
In the shuffle, I look for J. She’s at the back of the elevator, gripping the railing for dear life. Strands of blonde hair hide her face from view as she bends over and clutches her chest.
She hasn’t fainted. Yet. But her watch is screaming.
Her heart is pounding too fast.
“Breathe, J,” I growl.
“I’m… trying,” she gasps.
I want to go over to her, but two of the crew members are attacking me at once.
Running backward like I did with Ace in the stairwell, I slam Red T-shirt into the wall so his grip on me loosens, and as soon as I’m free, I ram my fist into Blue T-shirt’s face. He goes flying into Ace, who was just starting to get on his feet.
Red T-shirt tries to grab me again, but by the head this time. He hooks his arm around my neck. His elbow digs into my shoulder as he chokes me and wrenches me backward.
My eyes connect with Ace who’s running straight at me now that his friend has me in a chokehold. I slow my breathing, assess his pace, and wait for the right moment to wrench sideways and free myself.
Red T-shirt loosens his grip, and I sidestep just in time for Ace to rain a solid blow on his friend instead of me. Groans of pain filter through the air. All three of them gather together like the rats they are, their eyes glazed in pain and rage.
The elevator stops.
Red numbers flash on the screen.
Ace slaps the button so the doors close and the elevator starts moving again.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” Ace growls.
I stare at him, barely winded, but he and his crew are breathing hard. They all lack skill and strategy in fighting. And while I haven’t been in many street fights, my training with Kurosaki paired with all I know from Sensei makes this a sure win.
I don’t need to run my mouth to intimidate anyone. Beating them to within an inch of their lives should make my point loud and clear.
“You justpissedme off,” Ace growls. “Now I’m going to deal withyouand your girlfriend.”
Fury roars inside me.
I’m going to tear his head right off his body.
I head straight for Ace, but in the corner of my eye, I notice Blue T-Shirt taking out a knife. I remember the training I had with my sparring partner and bend backward, barely avoiding the first downward swipe.
“Ugh,” J groans behind me.
I glance at her. She’s still hanging onto the railing like it’s her last lifeline.
This fight is too close to J, and while I’ve been careful not to retreat to her corner of the elevator, I can’t guarantee where the knife will go.
While I’m standing still, the knife wielder attacks. I’d parry with him if we were anywhere else, just to show him that his clumsy attempts are laughable. But I can’t afford for J to get hurt, so I grab him by the wrist and pull.
His eyes widen in surprise as I swipe his leg from under him and keep my grip on his wrist. He screams as the weight of his body slamming to the ground wrenches against the angle of his arm. His shoulder pops.
The knife clatters to the ground.
