The second guy was bigger. He came in too high.
I ducked then drove my shoulder forward. I felt the jolt all the way through my spine.
My blood ignited, adrenaline burning hot and bright.
I’d spent countless hours training to get myself out of sticky situations.
But no amount of training could beat odds.
And three against one?
Those were not good odds.
But the third one… where the hell had he gone?
Even as I thought it, I heard a breath behind me.
Too close.
I twisted fast enough to avoid being grabbed, but fingers grabbed my shirt instead, pulling it tight.
I turned fast, making his weak grasp of the material loosen and eventually break.
No one was laughing now.
The silence was worse.
The second guy recovered faster than I expected.
He lunged.
I cocked and struck.
It landed right on his jaw, but the momentum carried me off balance. I stumbled back a step.
My heel caught in a crack in the sidewalk.
Dammit.
My pulse roared in my ears, thoughts compressing down to essentials.
I couldn’t panic.
It wasn’t over.
Not yet.
I just had to get my heel free.
The third guy made a grab for me again.
Screw the shoes.
I stepped out of my heels and lowered my center of gravity, then struck once, twice, three times.
The first guy, seemingly recovered from the busted nose, but fueled with real rage now, ran at me.
But there was movement right at my side that distracted me. I felt the way the air moved as movement sliced through it.
