Falling into You (Falling #1)(35)

He rushes me, and Nell screams. It’s a slow, clumsy rush, though. He telegraphs his punch with his eyes and his whole demeanor. He’s used to crushing with the first blow and that’s that. I am too, so I know the feeling when it doesn’t work. Took a few ass-beatings before I learned to counter it.

Duck…whiff. I’m not fighting fair. This isn’t UFC. I plant my knee in his diaphragm, clutch his head in my palms and pull his face down to my rising knee. Shove him back. Kick him in the balls, twice, hard. Crush his kidney with a pair of jackhammer punches, mash his already broken nose with my forehead.

He gets his fist in my shirt, and I know I’m in for pain. He’s a berserker. I block the first few blows, but then they’re coming in too fast, and goddamn the guy can hit hard. Nell is still screaming. Ogre-boy is a bloody mess, and now so am I. But he’s working on rage and berserker fury, which will fade soon. I’m in the cold fury phase. I’m in pain, but I’ve taken worse beatings and still won the fight. By which I mean, walked away on my own power.

He won’t be.

I finally get his fist out of my shirt by virtue of ripping the shirt off.

I spare a glance at her. “Nell. Shut up.”

She goes silent immediately, sucks in a breath as if realizing where she is, what’s happening. Then she spins on her heel, digs in a kitchen drawer and slinks up behind Dan with a giant knife in her hand. She presses the blade to Dan’s throat.

“Enough.” She doesn’t need to yell. The knife speaks loud enough.

Dan goes still. “You don’t want to do that, Nell.” His eyes are deadly.

Her dress is ripped open down the front, her panties torn partially off. Her lip is bleeding and she has bruises on her arms and throat.

I don’t want her to kill him. That’s a lot of trouble neither of us need. “Strangely, I agree with the Ogre, here,” I say. “Let me finish this.”

Nell snickers at the name. “Ogre. Fitting.” She meets my eyes, then relaxes the knife.

Which was a mistake. The instant the blade moves away, Dan bats her hand to the side, spins in place, and punches her, knocking her flying.

“Bitch,” he growls, and turns to me.

Of course, I didn’t spend those moments idle either. Brass knuckles go back on, and I’m not holding back anymore. The second I saw those bruises on her, I was gone.

I’m a street thug again, an enforcer. Except this is different; he hurt Nell.

He doesn’t stand a chance. Within moments, he’s a bloody, broken mess on Nell’s floor. I’ve got some tender ribs, a broken nose, split lips and cuts on my cheekbones, a loosened tooth. Blood is everywhere.

I pull my phone out, dial a number, wipe my face clean with a paper towel. “Hey Split, it’s Colt. I have a problem.” I explain the problem and spit out the address. “Yeah, in Tribeca. Shut up motherfucker. Just come get the bastard and make sure he doesn’t bother her again. Thanks.”

Nell is standing up, dabbing at her mouth, wobbling. I dart across to catch her as she stumbles.

I pick her up, set her on the counter like a child, wrap some ice in a paper towel and press it to her face where he hit her. Fortunately, he wasn’t stupid enough to hit her full-force, just a little tap to shut her up. She’ll have a bruise, but that’s it. She’s woozy, bleary eyed, but she clears up soon.

Dan moans behind me, reminding her of the problem. She straightens in fear at the sound of his voice, peers over my shoulder at the chunk of bloody beef that is Dan Sikorsky.

She looks slowly from him to me. “What did you do?”

I duck my head, embarrassed. “I sort of lost my temper.”

“Will he die?” She says it calmly.

I shrug. “Not in your living room.”

She narrows her lovely eyes at me. “What’s that mean?” A quiet rap on the door has her shrinking against me. “Who’s that?”

I pull the tattered remains of her dress closed. “A friend of mine. Go get in the shower, huh?”

“A friend?” She slides off the counter and moves to open the door.

I stop her. “I’ll take care of it, okay?”

She narrows her eyes again, vanishes into her room and closes the door behind her. I let Split in. He’s not a big guy, but he’s scary. Medium height, lean and toned, skin black as night, vibrantly white teeth and eyes so light brown they’re almost khaki. Eyes you can’t look at too long or you’ll piss yourself. Eyes that see your secrets and threaten to make your nightmares come true. He radiates intensity and exudes threat. I’m glad he’s my friend, mainly because I’ve seen what happens to his enemies: they vanish.

He glances down at Dan. “The fuck happened to him?”

Nell comes out in a clean T-shirt and yoga pants. “Colton was helping me.”

“Who’re you?” Split says.

“Nell Hawthorne. This is my apartment.” She extends her hand to shake Split’s.

He looks at her outstretched hand like it’s an insect, then cracks a rare smile as he shakes it. “Split.” He peers at Nell’s face, at the purpling bruise, the finger marks on her throat, the way she clutches her arms around her middle. “He try to rape you?”

Nell nods.

“His name is Dan Sikorsky,” I say, knowing Split will put two and two together.