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his eyes disappeared, replaced by fierce and righteous indignation.

"Unfortunately, Tripp, I'm making it my concern."

Eight

Cuchara

Confusion shone in Tripp's eyes for a second, but only for a second. Dak's fist smashed into his jaw. Tripp's head snapped to the right, and he stumbled backward onto his butt, barely able to catch himself with his hands as he hit the ground.

Steve still held the struggling woman, but when he saw the stranger hit his friend, his grip loosened. Tanya jerked her elbow back into his gut and felt his arm drop away. The blow wasn't much, but it was enough, and she darted away from him, retreating behind the stranger and pulling her phone out of her pocket.

"You've made a big mistake, stranger," John said, stalking toward Dak from the shadows behind Tanya's SUV. "You have any idea who you just hit?"

"A punk who probably wasn't spanked enough by his daddy when he was little," Dak answered.

"That right?"

"Seems to be."

Tripp scrambled to his feet, feeling the wounded jaw with his fingers. He grimaced at the pain throbbing through his face.

Steve circled around to the left, Tripp to the right, as the towering Collinsworth approached straight ahead.

"Looks like we have ourselves a hero," Tripp said. His voice tightened with pain. "You're going to pay for that one, Mr. Hero."

Dak heard Tanya on the phone behind him, telling her husband to get there as fast as he could, rapidly explaining what was happening.

"You shouldn't have done that," Tripp went on. "We were just having some fun with her."

"That's not what I heard and saw," Dak countered. "You were going to rape her and then kill her."

"I guess it's your word against ours, then, Mr. Hero."

"Yeah, Mr. Hero," Steve prodded. He was the consummate bully sidekick, making up for a lifetime of shortcomings.

"I'm not a hero, but I've seen your kind before," Dak said, his eyes locked on Tripp, keeping a watch on the other two in his peripheral vision. "You'd throw an innocent life away just so you can get your jollies. You don't know where to draw the line. So, I guess someone's got to draw it for you."

Tripp shook his head. "I don't think so. And when we're done with you, we'll finish what we started with her sooner or later. You hear me, Tanya? This is not over."

He and the other two closed in on Dak. Tripp raised his hands in bad boxing form. Dak sensed the other two moving quickly at him from either side, just behind his field of view. It was a typical strategy for people who didn't know much about hand-to-hand combat. The two thugs would try to grab him and hold him so their buddy could pummel away.

Dak heard the gravel scuff to his side and drop stepped back, bringing both of the assailants into full view. He dropped down nearly to his knee and swept his right leg at the taller of the two. His heel caught John on the shin, hitting it hard enough to hurt, but more importantly, knock the big man off his balance. He stumbled forward and collided with the much shorter guy on the left. The two nearly fell, but Steve managed to catch his partner and steady himself.

That recovery didn't stop the next attack from coming.

Dak sprang up once more and lunged forward. Steve saw him coming and shoved John away to brace for what he thought would be a tackling impact.

Instead, Dak faked to one side and dipped to the other, raised his arm, and clothes lined the shorter man in the nook between his forearm and biceps. The blow crushed Steve's windpipe a split second before he felt his feet lift off the ground. Time seemed to slow as the air beneath him left nothing but wonder as to when he would hit the ground.

His tailbone struck gravel with a crunch, but his immediate concern went to his closed airway. He grasped at it while John steadied his balance and drew a switchblade from his right pocket.

The gangly man pressed the button and the sharp point shot out of the handle, the shiny metal glimmering in the residual light of the Explorer's headlights.

John charged Dak, intent on gutting him like a fish. The man had no real training, that much was evident. He lunged wildly, stabbing straight at Dak's abdomen.

Dak deftly twisted left, allowing the blade to pass, then grabbed the tall man's forearm, jerked him forward using his own momentum against him. At the last second, Dak twisted the man's wrist upward and plunged the knife through his throat.

He yanked the bloodstained blade out of the wound just in time to meet another reckless attack from Steve. The grunt rushed at Dak, shoulders squared to tackle him and drive him to the ground.

Dak ducked and stabbed up into the attacker's chest. The assailant's forward movement dragged the blade through flesh until it sunk deep into his belly. He howled in pain and fell to the ground beside his dead friend.

Steve curled into a fetal position as blood leaked through his fingers, soaking into the gravel.

Tripp finally sensed the very real danger and used the only advantage he could. He slipped into the shadows and hurried around behind the fight, slipping up on Tanya who'd been focused on the one-sided battle.

She was still on the phone with her husband when Tripp snaked his arm around her waist and pressed the sharp edge of a hunting knife against her neck. In a second of startled panic, she dropped the phone to the ground and the screen cracked against the gravel.

Tripp's wide eyes blazed with fury. The fact that one of his friends was dead and the other soon would be hadn't fully set in, but the sight of them on the ground quickly worked to correct that.

"Johnny?" he said, looking at the long, still form on the ground. "Johnny, you okay?"

Dak let the bloody switchblade slip down to his fingertips. Pinching the flat sides of the knife, he carefully calculated the

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