Healing Love (Love to the Extreme #4)

“Fuck. I think he broke my nose.”


One of the others took advantage of the blond man’s distraction and landed a right jab on his chin. His head whipped to the side and he stumbled backward into a dumpster. With him in a weak position, both men attacked and sent fists into his gut, side, and head. Pained groans filled the air as he sank to his knees on the asphalt.

Jesus, they were going to kill him.

She slipped her cell from her pocket and dialed 911 with shaky fingers.

“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

“There are three guys jumping another guy in the alley between Handover Street and McDowell,” she whispered. “Get here fast. Please.” She ended the call.

Panicked, she studied her surroundings. She couldn’t just stand here and let those three thugs continue to beat up on that man until the cops arrived. They might kill him. She’d never be able to forgive herself if that were to happen.

But she wasn’t stupid either. There were three of them. One of her. She had to think of her own safety, too. Surprising them would be her best plan of action.

A car was parked about five feet away. The men were all standing near the front end of the car. She assessed each man’s position. One stepped back, breathing heavily, and wiped his arm across his forehead. The other was still occupied with the blond and was taking extreme pleasure in kicking him in the stomach. The guy with the broken nose was on his feet, but still preoccupied trying to stop the blood flow.

She focused on the one who was panting.

Swallowing back her fear, she crouch-ran to the bumper of the parked car then crept between the vehicle and the wall of the building until she reached the front. Keeping low, she waited for the breathless man to step closer. The moment he did, she sprang onto his back and slid her arm underneath his chin, then locked the submission hold into place with her other arm. The man froze and then started spinning around, trying to dislodge her from his back. Prepared for the reaction, she wrapped her legs around his waist and brought the choke hold in tighter. The man collapsed to his knees.

She glared at the guy who’d frozen mid-punch to stare at her with stunned eyes.

“Back off,” she said with a deadly calm that surprised even her.

She wasn’t sure if it was shock at someone interfering, or the fact that it was a woman who’d brought down their friend, but one guy stepped back from the blond, while the other with the bloodied nose lowered his hand from his face.

“Get the hell out of here.” Perhaps telling them to leave wasn’t the best idea, but she didn’t like the odds. She needed to keep the upper hand before their shock wore off.

The two men hesitated, so she tightened her grip on their buddy’s throat. A strangling gargle wheezed out. He slapped her forearm.

“Tell them to leave,” she ordered.

Purple-faced, the guy squeaked out a “go,” and his cronies followed his order.

As soon as they ran off, she pressed her lips to the man’s ear. “That wasn’t a fair fight, was it? People like you make me sick.”

She lowered her feet to the ground, and squeezed hard once more before releasing the man with a shove to the ground. His palms slapped the asphalt. He lifted his head and glared at her.

Straightening to her whole five-foot four-inches, she glared back, wishing more than anything this had been the way that night had ended so long ago, with her towering over him, daring him with just an intense look to make another move.

The man pushed up, muttering, “Fucking bitch.”

Meh. She’d been called worse. “Go join your friends.”

As he straightened, his tall frame overwhelmed her small one. Towered over her. Fear immediately closed her throat, made her palms sweat.

Never show weakness. Never allow intimidation. Always exude confidence. She silently chanted the mantra for the second time that day, gathering the strength she needed to stand her ground.

Swallowing, she kept her gaze locked on him, watching for any sign he’d charge her, uncertain what the outcome would be if he did. That was the scariest part of it all—the not knowing. The worry that even with all the years of training, if she was attacked by a man again, she’d freeze, and the past would repeat itself.

The guy continued to stare at her, then a slow grin spread across his face. “I like you. Just a little feisty kitty-cat, aren’t you?”

The condescending comment eased her fear, allowing anger to seep in. Another thing she hated about assholes like this. She’d just taken this man to his knees and he smiled like she was some kitten doing a cute trick. Dick.