Chapter 950
Skye stood in the center of the mat. Her opponent was the bodyguard — a man named Brutus, appropriately enough. He was six-foot-five, a wall of muscle and bad intentions.
“No weapons,” Marcus Vance announced from the sidelines. “Hand to hand.”
Liam stood by the door, his hand hovering near his gun, looking as though he were vibrating with the urge to intervene. Alistair was pale beside him, his injured arm useless, watching with terrified focus.
“Begin!”
Brutus didn’t waste time. He charged like a bull.
Skye didn’t block. She couldn’t — he outweighed her by a hundred pounds. If he got hold of her, it was over.
She slid.
She dropped to her knees, the polished wood slick beneath her socks, and slid straight between his legs. Brutus stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward.
Skye scrambled upright and spun around. She drove her heel into the back of his knee. It was like kicking a tree trunk. He barely flinched.
He turned, swinging a backhand. It connected with Skye’s shoulder.
𝗔𝘥𝘥ic𝘁𝘪𝘃𝘦 𝗇o𝘃𝘦𝗅s 𝗈𝘯 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝘯𝗼𝗏𝖾𝗹𝗌.𝘤o𝗺
Pain exploded. She flew backward and hit the floor hard. Her vision swam.
“Skye!” Liam shouted, stepping toward the mat.
“Stay back!” Skye gasped, rolling away as Brutus’s foot came down on the spot where her head had been a heartbeat before.
She hauled herself upright, wheezing. Her shoulder throbbed.
Think. You can’t out-muscle him. You have to break him.
Brutus grinned. He enjoyed this. He lunged again, arms spread wide to bear-hug her into submission.
Skye waited. She waited until she could smell his sour breath.
Then she jumped — not away, but at him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her arms around his neck in a flying guillotine. Brutus roared and thrashed, slamming his back against the wall to crush her between his body and the stone.
Skye gritted her teeth and held on. The impact drove the air from her lungs, but she tightened her grip and pressed her thumb into the pressure point behind his ear — a trick Alistair had taught her.
Brutus stumbled. His vision was going grey.
He reached up and grabbed her hair, pulling hard. Skye screamed but didn’t let go. She shifted her weight and torqued his neck.
“Tap,” she hissed. “Tap, or I break it.”
Brutus gurgled. He dropped to his knees, then to his face.
Skye rolled clear just before he hit the floor. She lay there, chest heaving, hair in ruins, shoulder burning.
Brutus didn’t move. He was unconscious.
Silence filled the room.
Skye got to her feet, swaying. She looked at Marcus Vance.
“I win,” she wheezed.
Marcus stared at his fallen champion, then at Skye. His face had gone purple with rage.
“She cheated,” he sputtered. “She used trickery.”
“She used physics,” Liam said, walking onto the mat. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Skye’s shoulders, then fixed Marcus with a look that promised violence. “And she won. Now get out — before I forget the rules.”
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