A Butler To Love ~A Christian Romance

Chapter 59 ~ A Different Kind of Hero.

Wren worried he wouldn't perform the maneuver Callihan had taught him, forced him to practice thousands of times over, but it was as if he had never stopped practicing.  He darted his left hand to latch onto the gun barrel, ducked his head to the side and simultaneously slammed the side of his right hand against the Boss's wrist. With one quick thrust, the barrel was pivoted to point at his opponent's abdomen, and the Boss cried out in pain as his forefinger was wrenched backward with the movement, crunching as bones broke. In less than three seconds, the gun had come to rest snugly inf Wren's hand.

The fight should have been over, but it wasn't. The threats the gang leader had made about Leah filled Wren's senses and images of limp, drugged teenagers infiltrated his vision as memories assaulted him. Unchecked fury and unsettled vengeance spurred him as he tossed the gun away and blasted three rapid strikes to the man's face, taking steps forward as The Boss staggered steps back, keeping the distance between them close.

A yell of blind rage escaped Wren as he went for his fourth strike, but the Boss didn't become a leader of the Snake's Coil gang by chance.  He knew well the ways of combat. Though dazed by the blows, his own honed skills managed to divert the deadly blow to the neck to brush past his ear and with his own battle cry,  latched one massive hand around Wren's throat.

As his airway was constricted, Wren found himself being driven back by the Boss's full weight, his feet struggling to keep up with the momentum as he ran backward. He waited for the impact of being slammed into the van before an idea surfaced. Not taking even a millisecond to decide if it would work, he flipped his feet out, allowing himself to fall. His back slammed into the soft earth. If the Boss's grip hadn't completely cut off his air supply, the impact with the ground did. Still, he paid it no mind as he thrust his heels into The Boss's chest as the man was pulled downwards, his grip having never loosened from Wren's throat. Then, pushing with all his might, hurled the massive gang leader up and over his head, breaking the choke hold. He heard the ping of the van's metal as the Boss was thrown into its side.

Snapping to his feet, Wren wanted to attack again, but his lack of oxygen and high exerted actions caught up with him as his vision blurred. He nearly sank to his knees as he struggled to breathe before blessed air filled his lungs. Almost instantly, the night opened back up to him. It wasn't a moment too soon as he sidestepped a blow from the recovered Boss.

Wren played offensive for the next minute, caving in and stepping back, dodging and blocking the gang leader's attacks. They were fast and accurate, each maneuver intended to kill or damage. That one minute calmed Wren; A calm he realized he needed. The Boss, on the other hand, was enraged and his fury was mounting with every missed hit. When The Boss coiled his entire body to prepare for a tackle, Wren prepared to use it, wondering if the man was really becoming so unhinged as to try such a foolish and vulnerable attack. But, he did. Lowering his head and stretching his arms, the Boss bellowed, reminding Wren of an angry bull, and charged. Wren nearly grinned.

Spinning away from the waiting long arms, Wren finished the spin and the fight as he slammed a fist on the base of The Boss's skull. His opponent instantly dropped and lay still.

Panting hard, Wren reached a hand to rub his throat. It hurt and he was sure his esophagus was bruised. Then, to his amazement, The Boss moaned and tried to push himself to his knees. He didn't know anyone who could gain consciousness so fast from such a perfectly delivered strike.

Wren's brows narrowed and he gritted his teeth, an almost joy filling him the fight wasn't over. Hatred burned deep inside. He hadn't realized until facing the man, fighting him, how much he despised The Boss's existence.

Striding forward, Wren kicked The Boss over to his back. Stepping over the top of him, he sank to one knee and gripped the man's shirt, forcing the man's head up.