tie from his pocket and bound the man’s hands, securing him to one of the pipes on the roof. Bull tucked the man’s gun into his waistband for safe keeping and sought cover. After tonight, he’d rethink these bodyguard assignments. He didn’t need the extra money. He had enough steady work with his usual security assessments to keep him busy and cushion his already comfy nest egg. Besides, axing the extracurricular bodyguard duties would free up time to spend with his sister.
He had to chew on that a bit more once the assignment was over.
Three more men to go. Then he could call it a wrap. Easy peasy.
He crouched behind one of the rooftop HVAC units when he spotted two of the men to his left.
He edged toward the pair, keeping himself hidden as best he could. He snuck up behind man number one, wrapping his hand around the man’s mouth and his arm around the guy’s neck. The man dropped his gun and clutched Bull’s arm, fighting to break free.
The gun clanked when it hit the ground.
Guy number two spun and froze at the sight of Bull holding his friend in a headlock. The momentary distraction was all Bull needed to deliver a kick to the guy’s midsection, knocking him back against the thick metal pipe just as the first guy weakened in his grip. He dropped guy number one, checked his pulse, and walked over to guy number two. Both were breathing but passed out. Perfect. With another pair of plastic cable ties, he tethered the guys together and pulled them over to another pipe, securing them to the metal to keep them in place.
Where the hell is Brown Shirt Guy?
“The team is here,” Reinaldo’s voice came through Bull’s earpiece. “So are the police. They’re on their way up.”
Right on time. He was getting tired of this cat and mouse game.
A thick arm slid around his neck from behind before he had a chance to respond.
Bull threw his head back with force. The hold around his neck loosened but didn’t release. He used his height advantage and bent forward, raising Mr. Brown Shirt off his feet.
The grip around his neck tightened.
Bull let out a roar, slamming back against a rooftop HVAC unit on one side and then the other, finally shaking the man off him and onto the ground. A quick reflection of light caught his attention as the man lunged toward him. Bull bowed his body just in time to avoid the first slice of the blade. The man swiped his arm in the air, left, and then right, up, and then down.
Bull swung a punch, avoiding each swipe of the blade. The punch landed smack in the middle of the man’s face, but the swinging didn’t stop.
Mr. Brown Shirt sneered, his grin bloody. Gritting his teeth, the man threw his body forward with a yell and enough force to knock Bull off his feet.
Color me impressed.
“Bull!” He recognized the detective’s voice, but it was too distant to make a difference. Bull twisted as Brown Shirt sliced through the air again with the blade. A flash of searing heat—maybe two—cut his arm but he refused to let it slow him down.
Bull kicked out and then hooked the heel of his boot back into Brown Shirt’s knee. The man fell but didn’t slow, quickly jumping off the ground and launching forward again. Bull threw a punch and then another while blocking a series of swings to his midsection. Brown Shirt did the same while still holding his knife in his grip. Another swing and then a slice.
Bull sharply inhaled as the blade finally made contact with his torso.
“Freeze,” Mick yelled with his gun trained on Brown Shirt. “Drop the knife and put your hands in the air.”
Brown Shirt stilled, pitching his knife to the side, sneering at Bull with a death glare as the detective grabbed the man’s hands and cuffed them behind his back.
Bull kept his gaze on the man, refusing to be the first to flinch.
Mick’s partner arrived and escorted Brown Shirt Guy off the roof toward the stairwell, bookended by a pair of uniformed officers.
Bull waited until the man was out of sight before releasing a deep breath. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to show an ounce of pain until that prick was gone. He bent forward, pressing his side with a wince.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I knew there was a reason you made detective.” He closed his eyes, pain spreading through his body