FIFTY-ONE
T
ripp hit him hard in the back.
They hit the ground with a jarring thud.Tripp shot both hands out to grip Lassiter’s wrist as the other man tried to bring his weapon up to fire.He slammed Lassiter’s hand into the ground once.Twice.
Lassiter bellowed in outrage.Lost his grip momentarily.
The pistol fell and skidded away from him.Tripp lunged for it.An elbow caught him under the jaw.
His head snapped back, stars exploding before his eyes.He landed hard on his side, the taste of blood on his tongue.
He twisted hard, grabbed for Lassiter’s wrist before he could get the weapon.Wrenched it up and back.
He felt bone snap.Lassiter screamed and flung himself away, cradling his hand.
Tripp shot to his feet, swaying slightly, still dizzy from the blow.Lassiter leaped at him.
Thanks to his damaged right eye, Tripp only saw the glint of the blade in Lassiter’s other hand at the last moment.He wrenched to the side just in time, felt a rush of air as the knife whooshed past him, missing him by inches.
“Come get me, you fucking bastard,” Lassiter growled, teeth bared in a feral snarl as he slashed the knife diagonally at him.
Tripp spun, pivoted and threw up a forearm to block the blow.Sucked in a breath when a searing pain ripped along his forearm.But he’d managed to deflect what would have been a deadly blow to the belly.
He dropped to the ground and swept a leg out, his foot catching Lassiter behind the knee.Lassiter pitched over and crashed into the ground.
Tripp pounced on him, grabbing for the knife hand.
Lassiter wrenched to one side, flipping them over.An instant later Tripp found himself flat on his back underneath the other man as the blade rose above him for the killing blow.
Fuck this.
Tripp shot both hands up to latch onto Lassiter’s wrist, halting the long, deadly blade less than a foot from his throat.
Lassiter let out a feral snarl and bore down with all his might.Gradually forcing the end of the lethal blade lower as the seconds stretched out.
Tripp grimaced and held on, locked muscles burning, battling with everything he had to hold the blade away from him.If he died, so would Willow.
Not fucking happening.
But Lassiter had the advantage.The better position and angle, and gravity on his side.
Their arms shook with the strain of the battle for supremacy of the knife.Lassiter’s face was bright red, eyes bulging.Both of them were panting.
Tripp’s arms trembled under Lassiter’s combined weight and strength.His grip slipped a fraction.
The blade shot a few more inches toward him.His heart constricted as he braced for the moment it plunged into his throat.He couldn’t hold him off much longer.
