Blood was better than yellow pus, right? "Good job," he murmured when he came up to me.
"Thank you.
I couldn't tell if you could hear me or not." Warren yielded Adam his place between Jesse and me, moving around Jesse so he could still help her if he was needed.
Sam moved around to my side and lay down on the cement with a sigh.
"See if you congratulate me when she's lying dead," I said, very quietly.
I'd have told him about her ribs, but I was afraid that the wrong person would hear, and Paul would find out.
Henry knew, of course .
.
.
but somehow I didn't think he would tell Paul that he'd broken Mary Jo's ribs.
Paul wouldn't understand--and Henry was smart enough to know that.
Mary Jo adopted Adam's horse stance and faced Paul, whose back was to her.
"Challenge given and accepted," Darryl said.
"Fight to the death with the winner having the option to accept a yield." "Agreed," said Mary Jo.
"Yes," said Paul.
Mary Jo was faster, and she was a better-trained fighter.
But when she hit, she didn't hit as hard.
If Paul had been nearer to her size instead of four inches over six feet, she'd have had a good chance.
But he had over a foot of height, which translated into reach.
I'd remembered from his fight with Warren that he was surprisingly fast for such big man.
Eventually, he landed a fist on her shoulder that put her down like she'd been hammered.
"Yield," he said.
She stuck her feet between his and knocked them apart.
Then she rolled like a monkey between his spread legs, elbowing him in the kidneys as she rose behind him.
A second kick behind the knee almost had him on the ground, but he recovered.
"Yield like hell," she gritted, when she was a few body lengths from him.
"Quit being easy on her," said Darryl heavily.
"This is a fight to the death, Paul.
She will kill you if she can.
If you accepted her challenge, you have to give her the respect of fighting her honestly." "Right," said Adam.