Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
T
ripp hit him hard in the back.
They hit the ground with a jarring thud. Tripp shot both hands out to grip Lassiter’s wrist as the other man tried to bring his weapon up to fire. He slammed Lassiter’s hand into the ground once. Twice.
Lassiter bellowed in outrage. Lost his grip momentarily.
The pistol fell and skidded away from him. Tripp lunged for it. An elbow caught him under the jaw.
His head snapped back, stars exploding before his eyes. He landed hard on his side, the taste of blood on his tongue.
He twisted hard, grabbed for Lassiter’s wrist before he could get the weapon. Wrenched it up and back.
He felt bone snap. Lassiter screamed and flung himself away, cradling his hand.
Tripp shot to his feet, swaying slightly, still dizzy from the blow. Lassiter leaped at him.
Thanks to his damaged right eye, Tripp only saw the glint of the blade in Lassiter’s other hand at the last moment. He wrenched to the side just in time, felt a rush of air as the knife whooshed past him, missing him by inches.
“Come get me, you fucking bastard,” Lassiter growled, teeth bared in a feral snarl as he slashed the knife diagonally at him.
Tripp spun, pivoted and threw up a forearm to block the blow. Sucked in a breath when a searing pain ripped along his forearm. But he’d managed to deflect what would have been a deadly blow to the belly.
He dropped to the ground and swept a leg out, his foot catching Lassiter behind the knee. Lassiter pitched over and crashed into the ground.
Tripp pounced on him, grabbing for the knife hand.
Lassiter wrenched to one side, flipping them over. An instant later Tripp found himself flat on his back underneath the other man as the blade rose above him for the killing blow.
Fuck this.
Tripp shot both hands up to latch onto Lassiter’s wrist, halting the long, deadly blade less than a foot from his throat.
Lassiter let out a feral snarl and bore down with all his might. Gradually forcing the end of the lethal blade lower as the seconds stretched out.
Tripp grimaced and held on, locked muscles burning, battling with everything he had to hold the blade away from him. If he died, so would Willow.
Not fucking happening.
But Lassiter had the advantage. The better position and angle, and gravity on his side.
Their arms shook with the strain of the battle for supremacy of the knife. Lassiter’s face was bright red, eyes bulging. Both of them were panting.
Tripp’s arms trembled under Lassiter’s combined weight and strength. His grip slipped a fraction.
The blade shot a few more inches toward him. His heart constricted as he braced for the moment it plunged into his throat. He couldn’t hold him off much longer.
Willow...
Suddenly, Lassiter went rigid. His back arched as he let out a throttled roar, the knife falling from his grasp.
Gasping, Tripp threw him off him and rolled to his feet to attack, stunned to see the taser probes and wires sticking out of Lassiter’s back, the telltale rapid clicking registering as the charge flowed.
He glanced over as Earl stepped out of the shadows, holding the taser in both hands.
Tripp immediately kicked the knife out of Lassiter’s reach and straddled him, knowing he only had another few seconds before the charge was finished. He wrenched Lassiter’s hands behind him. “Okay, you can stop now.”
Earl kept squeezing the trigger. Lassiter made a guttural sound, his face contorted with pain.
Five seconds was the legal limit for police to use a taser. Lassiter was at ten or more and counting. He was down and no longer a threat. “Earl.”
Earl finally released the trigger, walked over, and handed him a belt. “Use this.”
Tripp took it without a word, secured Lassiter’s hands tight at the small of his back and stood up, leaving the prone man lying face down. He looked at Earl, still catching his breath. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“I saw Willow’s car being chased and headed down to help.”
Tripp didn’t bother asking him how he’d seen that. Earl always seemed to have his finger on the pulse of what was going on here, and he’d always been especially fond and protective of Willow.
Earl eyed him, the blood dripping from his arm and staining his shirt. “You good?”
“Yeah. Thanks to you.” Hurt him a little to say it. But it was true. And he needed to tell Earl the whole story about what had happened in Syria. He’d avoided that conversation for too long, and it had almost cost him Willow.
He hoped he wouldn’t lose her when he told her too.
“Don’t mention it,” Earl muttered.
Lassiter tried to roll over. Tripp planted a boot in the middle of his back. “Don’t you fucking move. You alone? Are you alone,” he demanded when Lassiter didn’t answer right away, adding pressure with his boot.
“Yes,” Lassiter bit out, his face blotchy.
Earl bent and yanked the probes from his back. Lassiter snarled at him but didn’t move, his expression murderous.
Tripp felt exactly the same way about him.
He and Earl both tensed and looked over at something moving in the brush, heading toward them. A second later, Rufus burst through the undergrowth, trailing his red leash behind him. Then Willow stepped through into the sunshine, worry etched into every feature.
There was a big rock in her hand. She stopped short, took in the scene and lowered the rock, her body seeming to sag.
Tripp left Lassiter on the ground and went to her. Pulled her straight into his arms and held her tight.
She dropped the rock with a thud and clung tight to him, fisting the back of his shirt. “You’re okay.”
“Yeah, baby, I’m fine, and we got him. You okay?” It felt amazing to be able to hold her.
“Yes,” she whispered against his neck. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m okay, just a nick on my forearm. It’s not that deep.” He was lucky the blade had missed his inner arm and the arteries running against the bone there. “That was a big rock.”
“I was gonna throw it at him. Or bash him in the head with it.”
There was something seriously wrong with him that it made him smile.
“God,” she said shakily, leaning her weight into him.
“I know. But it’s all over now.”
“How did Earl...”
He looked back at the other man, who was eyeing Lassiter like he wanted to shoot him with the taser again. “Did you call the cops?”
“Course I did. They should be here any time. And that last five seconds was for Willow.”
He might have smiled if the situation wasn’t so serious. “Rafe should have been here by now.” Where the hell was he?