Chapter 1 - The First Strike
Marcus swung his heavy right fist directly at my jaw.
He put all of his two hundred pounds into the punch.
He expected me to cower or scream in front of the neighborhood.
Instead, I simply shifted my weight slightly to the left.
His massive fist cut through empty air.
The momentum pulled him forward clumsily.
I did not even raise my hands to block.
A collective gasp echoed across the suburban lawn.
Warren spilled his beer, staring in absolute disbelief.
Marcus stumbled, his face turning crimson with sudden embarrassment.
He cursed loudly and threw a wild left hook.
I ducked smoothly underneath his arm.
I pivoted on my heel and tapped the back of his knee with my boot.
It was not a hard strike, but it was perfectly placed.
Marcus collapsed onto the grass like a dropped bag of cement.
The gym brothers behind him stopped laughing immediately.
Lily watched with wide eyes, her hands slowly releasing the hem of her shirt.
"I told you the rule," I said calmly.
Marcus scrambled to his feet, his pride completely shattered.
He realized he could not beat me with his fists.
His eyes darted toward the barbecue grill behind him.
He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts.
When his hand emerged, the sunlight caught the glint of silver steel.
It was a tactical folding knife.
He flicked the blade open with a deadly click.
"I am going to carve you up, you pathetic desk jockey," he spat.
My sister Rachel screamed and covered her mouth.
The neighbors began to scatter in absolute panic.
Warren did not tell his son to drop the weapon.
Warren actually smiled.
Marcus lunged forward with the blade aimed straight at my stomach.
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I did not step back.
I stepped directly into his attack.
