When Perfect Meets Crazy

I turned back, ready to return to the audience when a dark figure filled my field of vision, a hand clamping down on my mouth before I could scream. Fear like never before exploded in my chest. Even worse than when my dad was in one of his moods.

Unthinkingly, I swung my fist out, aiming for the throat. Never had I been gladder for muscle memory and adrenaline induced clear headedness. Even as terror choked me, I found myself objectively itemizing perceived weaknesses and attack points.

My hand curved in a perfect arc heading for his throat. He released me in favor of blocking the blow. It was expected but a part of me was still shocked it had worked.

Before my hand even connected with his raised forearms, I began executing my next move. My leg swung out, catching his side less than a second later. Parker would’ve been so proud of me.

The assailant cursed under his breath and made another grab for me.

I was ready this time. I jabbed my elbow in his armpit. It wasn’t a calculated move and as soon as I did it, I wanted to slap myself. Parker would not have approved of such a clumsy tactic.

It had barely been a second since my elbow made contact but my mind was on an adrenaline high and processing things a mile a second. I readied myself to take whatever hit would come next.

But nothing came.

My terror abated a little when his grimace finally registered in my brain. I saw, more than heard, the pained grunts escaping from his lips. My ears were filled with white noise. I couldn’t hear anything over it. Not even sounds of impact from our scuffle.

I finally noticed he was awkwardly cradling the arm of the armpit I had hit to his torso, shooting me a look that promised pain in my immediate future if he got his way.

I must’ve hit a funny bone.

I sent up a quick prayer of gratitude for the lucky accident. There was no conscious decision. No weighing my options. My brain wasn’t even processing options. Only one thing popped into my head; run.

My fist made contact with his nose while he was still distracted by the effects of the armpit hit. It didn’t break but I was willing to bet it still hurt immensely. I turned on my heel ready to bolt regardless of the direction.

“Shit,” he cursed softly behind me. “Little bitch. Ian conveniently did not mention that.”

I stopped on my tracks. Froze was more like it.

“Who are you?” I fell into a defensive stance as I turned around.

“Did your dad teach you that move?” He grunted, slowly righting himself.

The way he said it sent shivers down my spine. It wasn’t particularly malicious but the thought that he knew my dad was chilling.

“Who are you?” I swallowed.

He inclined his head as though taunting me; guess. I drew in a shaky breath, my hands clenching into fists as a warning.

“Give it your best shot.” His expression was condescending even as his eyes hardened to glaciers.

He knew me. Knew Ian. Knew my dad was the sheriff and was confident enough to not care.

I asked, suspicion

a hint for him to know that I knew and if it wasn’t him, whoever it was wouldn’t be able to

He hissed, eyes narrowing in distaste.

spread through my

hissed back, still maintaining my defensive stance. “What were you trying to do

wa--” He frowned, abruptly

met mine,

here?” His tone was just as suspicious as mine. “According to Ian, you’d never

ease. Reminded me he was one of the

understanding filled his gaze as it flitted down the corridor. It was too open and conspicuous. Anyone, precisely the people I had been following, could walk

“Fine. Follow me.”

opposite direction, down a series of corridors I didn’t recognize. Distrustfully eyeing the back of his head, I palmed the taser in my pocket, silently reassuring myself of its presence.

building. Just as I began seriously contemplating whether or not to tase him and make a run for it, we finally turned into a hallway

in relief, grateful that I wouldn’t have to resort to attacking a federal agent. Well,

raps of his knuckle, the door swung open to

asked immediately, not noticing me behind

make it back in time though,” Townsend

me shivering lightly. Ian heaved a sigh, disappointment clear on his features. He pushed the door open wide and walked back into

decided they was referring to the men I followed in some way. It would explain why Townsend was in that corridor. If this Con was the lookout, then it explained why I didn’t

inside and I followed behind him,

gasped, eyes widening

on a smile and awkwardly

finally take note of Townsend’s bruised nose and the awkward angle he was holding his left hand at. Or maybe

happened?” he

boy I was used to seeing. In his place

his

he supplied sourly, gingerly flexing his left

swung

confessed as he looked me over, scrutinizing me from my hairdo to my sandals.

His voice sounded just the tiniest bit

my

To lighten the mood, I added, “You’re not the only one

I frowned. Was he really that worried? Did he seriously think I couldn’t take care

mode in the face

shot Ian an

her that too? Does the word ‘confidential’ mean anything to

I stifled a laugh as I took in Ian’s