at me in anger now aiming it high and hoping to hit me over the head with it, using his added height to do so. Well, lucky for me, I still had my knife, however, not so much for him.
“Time to crack your skull, bitch!” he snarled.
“Seriously, do you guys not know anything else to call a woman kicking your ass?” I asked before I pivoted my body, minimizing the surface of my body as I was trained to do in case a blow managed to get through my defense. I also needed to put myself out of his reach in case he grabbed hold of me to try and keep me trapped to the oncoming blows.
It was strange, how the moves seemed ingrained in my brain. As if I didn’t even need to think about it, almost like breathing, it just came natural to me. Which was good because in fluid movements that barely even registered to my attacker, I delivered what could easily be considered as one of my most brutal attacks yet…well, other than the pencil in the brain thing.
I stepped inside the arch of his longer weapon as the attack came down from above, to strike out first before he could hit me with it. I sliced my blade down the inside of his elbow against the muscle that effectively took away his ability to grip the tyre iron. Then, I instantly put my arm up to block, with my palm facing me, which was another instinct kicking in. One done to protect my own vital parts of my arm, like my arteries and veins on my wrist.
Blood burst all over the sleeve of my jacket, coming from the deep slice I made to the inside of his arm before I thrust up and stabbed the blade into his armpit. This was to hit at the nerves there that prevented his brain telling his arm what to do…now his limb was mine. Oh, and how he was about to know it.
But before he could even think too long on that particular ouchy, I turned my hand, putting my palm to his forearm. I did this so I could push his damaged arm down in front of his body and at the same time sliced up with my knife, cutting out from his armpit and straight through the top of his bicep with a sickening sound. This ended up severing his nerves completely, rendering his arm pretty much useless and in desperate need of medical attention before he bled to death.
“AAAHHHH!” he screamed after the mere seconds it took me to complete this brutal move as he dropped to the floor right after the tyre iron did, its clatter drowned out by the sound of sheer agony.
But after this I felt the gun being snatched from my waistband and held against my head.
“Drop the blade and turn around slowly!” he shouted making me stretch a hand out, making a point of dropping the blade with a clatter on the oil stained concrete floor. Then I turned around slowly and faced the last two guys.
“Try dodging this, bitch!” he said with a snicker that didn’t last long as he pulled the trigger, no doubt wondering why he didn’t see a bullet redecorating my face red. Instead, I cocked my head to the side and looked around the barrel of the gun and smiled.
“My turn, turtleneck…try dodging this!” I said before I kicked him straight on, getting him the nuts and making him fall to his knees. He did so cupping them, like this would somehow help. After which I grabbed the back of his head and brought it down on my knee, splitting my skirt at the side with the action. After this I let go, making him drop to the floor now unconscious and with a broken nose.
“No bullets, dickhead,” I said in cocky tone that lasted about two seconds after it was said, as I heard the hammer cock back on another gun behind me and the threat from Big B was clear…
“No, but there is in this one.”
Chapter 7
Big B and Little Dodge
I soon found myself turning around slowly once again, only this time knowing the threat was real. Then I started to act panicked, showing him the fear he expected and making the big guy smile because of it.
“I have to say I am fucking impressed. Never seen a chick with balls as big as yours, shame this wasn’t an interview, or I would