Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance by Jessica Ashe Page A

street violence. The heavily choreographed displays looked nice on screen, but on the streets people fought dirty and did what they needed to do to survive.  
    I was the better fighter. This wouldn’t be easy--it was still two against one and they had weapons--but I could definitely get out of this.
    Kevin stood in front of me while Eli moved around behind me. I kept flicking my head back and forth between the two of them. Kevin looked a little less sure of himself now after his previous failed attempt, but Eli still had a wicked grin on his face.  
    They’d planned all this. They knew I was coming and they’d set a trap. Good thing the Bartons weren’t all that smart.
    I could try and make a run for it, but the corridor was narrow and I’d have to push past Eli to get back out. He could easily stick the knife in me as I passed.  
    Instead, I decided to spring a trap of my own. I started turning in a circle to keep both of them in my vision, and then I took a tiny step to the side as if I were considering trying to bolt passed them.
    I pretended to stumble, as if I were about to fall over. The brothers took the bait. They both lunged for me, thinking I was there for the taking. Eli reached me first so I grabbed hold of him, let myself fall to the ground, and used my momentum to throw him in the direction of his brother.  
    They collapsed on top of each other, and Kevin took a cut to the face in the process. Nothing life threatening, but it was nice to see them bleeding.  
    I quickly stood up while they were still getting untangled and then slammed the hammer down on Eli’s wrist. To my surprise, he didn’t drop the knife, but I’d broken enough bones that he easily let go when I pulled it from his hand.
    Now this was nearly a fair fight.  
    Eli got to his feet first, but he was now unarmed. I could take him, but I didn’t want to risk leaving myself open to attack from Kevin.  
    Eli made the decision for me. He ran, leaving his younger brother still winded and struggling to get to his feet. So much for brotherly love.
    Kevin had a knife. I had a knife and a hammer. And I was pissed.  
    He didn’t stand a chance and he knew it.  
    The second I made a move towards him he ran, following his brother down the corridor and towards the exit. I’d been having doubts about killing these two, but those doubts had long since evaporated.
    I chased after them. They spent a lot of time in the gym, but they only worked on building muscle, neglecting to do much in the way of cardio. They were bulky and slow, physically as well as emotionally, so I knew I’d catch up to them.
    The gap closed to merely ten feet when suddenly I screamed and doubled over in pain. I’d torn some of the stitches the doctor had used on my wound. I clasped my hand against my side to try to stem the bleeding, but that just made the pain worse.
    If the Bartons had turned around and seen me bent over on the floor, they’d be able to come back and finish me off. Fortunately, they were too concerned with running away, and must have interpreted my scream as one of aggression and not mind-blowing pain.  
    The Bartons fled through the front door. I’d missed my chance. They hadn’t managed to kill me, but Dad just might finish the job for them.  
    I slumped back against the wall, and kept the pressure on my side until the bleeding finally seemed to stop.  
    The Bartons had been expecting me. But how? The obvious answer was that Dad had a mole in his operation, but that didn’t seem likely. Dad regularly made an example of anyone who was suspected of double crossing him, and made his thugs watch. That was enough to keep anyone on the straight and narrow.
    I used my legs to push myself up the wall until I was in something vaguely resembling a standing position. Chloe was going to give me hell for this.  
    I laughed to myself as I realized I was probably more scared of what she was going to say than I was of my father. Dad would be