Read Online Never Choose Flight (A Fighter Romance Novel) by Danielle Forte - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Danielle Forte
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break you.”
That just made Derek’s barrage of useless punches speed up. Malcolm looked down at them. A moment later, Derek was tired out and he stepped back, keeping his hands up in that never-before-practiced position.
Then Malcolm brought his fists back up. In mimic slow motion, he took two steps towards Derek and then threw a jab. It went right through Derek’s defenses and landed squarely on his sternum. There was a loud thud and Derek stumbled back, gasping.
“Oh you fucker,” he said. He ran towards Malcolm, who I could tell wanted to just knock him the fuck out. Be he just side stepped, leaving one foot behind for Derek to trip on. He caught himself before he hit the ground, but Samantha and I couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.
“You aren’t playing fair,” said Derek. “Fine. I won’t either.”
He got down on one knee as if he was going to tie his shoe. Then he pulled up one pant leg and removed a knife from his sock. A hunting knife, or something like that. Apparently Derek was the kind of guy who carried a knife.
I panicked for a moment, but then I looked back at Malcolm. He didn’t look panicked. Not one bit. His eyes followed the knife like a laser, but he didn’t look panicked.
Derek took a couple steps towards him, and Malcolm took a couple steps back, planning his next move. Then Derek took a running step.
It happened so quickly. Derek lunged with the knife towards Malcolm. Malcolm’s open hand slammed into Derek’s elbow. The knife fell from it. Malcolm caught the knife with his other hand and tossed it aside. And then, all of this in one fluid motion, landed a solid punch right on the bridge of Derek’s nose. You could hear the snapping noise over the sound of the knife clattering along the pavement.
“I didn’t want to do it, buddy,” said Malcolm. “I really didn’t. But you can’t bring a knife to a fist fight.”
Derek was bent over, pinches his nose. Blood was dripping out onto the pavement, forming a puddle underneath that he was trying to not get his shoes in. “I’ll sue,” he said. “You can’t do that to people.”
“Go ahead,” said Malcolm. “I’m pretty sure it’s legal to break the nose of someone who’s coming at you with a knife. I could have killed you and not served jail time for it.”
With that, Derek ran off, head down. Malcolm turned to Samantha and spoke as if nothing had happened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Samantha.”
“Samantha,” he repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He walked over and picked up the knife. It was six inches long, and serrated. “Think he really would have stabbed me with this?”
“I think he’s pretty pissed off that someone’s dating his girlfriend,” said Samantha, elbowing my ribs.
“In his mind,” I said, “that’s probably exactly what’s going on.”
“Kinda sad, actually,” said Malcolm.
“Is he gonna be okay?” asked Samantha.
“Oh yeah. Broken nose. He’ll look funny for a while. Two black eyes. Like a raccoon. But it’ll heal. He won’t need to get it set or anything.”
He looked down at the knife.
“That would have hurt pretty bad going in,” said Samantha.
“I’ve had worse,” he said. “If he had known how to use this, I might have been in a tiny bit of trouble.”
“Just a tiny bit,” I assured Samantha.
“Well,” she said, “I will see you tomorrow.”
“Wait,” said Malcolm. He held the knife out to her, holding it by the blade. “Could you take this?”
She looked at him funny.
“You can give it back to Derek if you want. Or just keep it.”
“Why?” she asked.
“You’re less likely to get into trouble because of it than me,” he said.
“Sure,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll do my best not to stab anyone to death with it.”
He laughed, and she got in her car.
“So,” he asked, “what do you usually get up to after work?”
“Nothing exciting,” I said. “In fact,
That just made Derek’s barrage of useless punches speed up. Malcolm looked down at them. A moment later, Derek was tired out and he stepped back, keeping his hands up in that never-before-practiced position.
Then Malcolm brought his fists back up. In mimic slow motion, he took two steps towards Derek and then threw a jab. It went right through Derek’s defenses and landed squarely on his sternum. There was a loud thud and Derek stumbled back, gasping.
“Oh you fucker,” he said. He ran towards Malcolm, who I could tell wanted to just knock him the fuck out. Be he just side stepped, leaving one foot behind for Derek to trip on. He caught himself before he hit the ground, but Samantha and I couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.
“You aren’t playing fair,” said Derek. “Fine. I won’t either.”
He got down on one knee as if he was going to tie his shoe. Then he pulled up one pant leg and removed a knife from his sock. A hunting knife, or something like that. Apparently Derek was the kind of guy who carried a knife.
I panicked for a moment, but then I looked back at Malcolm. He didn’t look panicked. Not one bit. His eyes followed the knife like a laser, but he didn’t look panicked.
Derek took a couple steps towards him, and Malcolm took a couple steps back, planning his next move. Then Derek took a running step.
It happened so quickly. Derek lunged with the knife towards Malcolm. Malcolm’s open hand slammed into Derek’s elbow. The knife fell from it. Malcolm caught the knife with his other hand and tossed it aside. And then, all of this in one fluid motion, landed a solid punch right on the bridge of Derek’s nose. You could hear the snapping noise over the sound of the knife clattering along the pavement.
“I didn’t want to do it, buddy,” said Malcolm. “I really didn’t. But you can’t bring a knife to a fist fight.”
Derek was bent over, pinches his nose. Blood was dripping out onto the pavement, forming a puddle underneath that he was trying to not get his shoes in. “I’ll sue,” he said. “You can’t do that to people.”
“Go ahead,” said Malcolm. “I’m pretty sure it’s legal to break the nose of someone who’s coming at you with a knife. I could have killed you and not served jail time for it.”
With that, Derek ran off, head down. Malcolm turned to Samantha and spoke as if nothing had happened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Samantha.”
“Samantha,” he repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He walked over and picked up the knife. It was six inches long, and serrated. “Think he really would have stabbed me with this?”
“I think he’s pretty pissed off that someone’s dating his girlfriend,” said Samantha, elbowing my ribs.
“In his mind,” I said, “that’s probably exactly what’s going on.”
“Kinda sad, actually,” said Malcolm.
“Is he gonna be okay?” asked Samantha.
“Oh yeah. Broken nose. He’ll look funny for a while. Two black eyes. Like a raccoon. But it’ll heal. He won’t need to get it set or anything.”
He looked down at the knife.
“That would have hurt pretty bad going in,” said Samantha.
“I’ve had worse,” he said. “If he had known how to use this, I might have been in a tiny bit of trouble.”
“Just a tiny bit,” I assured Samantha.
“Well,” she said, “I will see you tomorrow.”
“Wait,” said Malcolm. He held the knife out to her, holding it by the blade. “Could you take this?”
She looked at him funny.
“You can give it back to Derek if you want. Or just keep it.”
“Why?” she asked.
“You’re less likely to get into trouble because of it than me,” he said.
“Sure,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll do my best not to stab anyone to death with it.”
He laughed, and she got in her car.
“So,” he asked, “what do you usually get up to after work?”
“Nothing exciting,” I said. “In fact,
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