(40) Final Episode.

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Devlin moved in first.

He raised his fist and ran it into Peter's face but it caught him in the mouth which sent him sprawling. Devlin watched as Peter stood, still unsure if he should be hurting him.

"That all you got?" He asked snidely, licked his busted lips, and laughed, a complacent look lining his features.

Enraged at that, Devlin swung at him but only grazed his head with his fist as Peter ducked and kicked Devlin on the back which sent him lurching. Peter leaped at him and began pounding his clenched hand on his guts. Devlin grunted as each blow met him but it didn't hurt, how could it? He'd been preparing for this for so long and was completely ready for setbacks like this, but he needed to win. His life depended on it. And when he looked up and saw the person he had to defeat to survive, the hurt of betrayal sprang up in him.

Angry, Devlin blocked the next two blows and then snatched Peter's fist that was headed for his face, twisted his arm, and spun him. Peter did a counterattack by turning swiftly and throwing a heavy punch. His fist was aimed at Devlin's stomach, but Devlin managed to dodge and catch it in his rib cage. The contact probably broke some of his ribs as Devlin felt sharp pains at his sides. That was nothing. He lunged forward, ducked Peter's incoming fist, and maneuvered around him by snatching his body and grabbing him by the neck, throttling him. He lifted Peter off his feet as he was way taller and more heavily built.

Peter used his fingers to scratch at Devlin's fists as he struggled for air.

"Beg for mercy." Devlin snarled under his breath. "Before I snap your windpipes."

He didn't. His men, on Fener's command, gathered, ready to shoot Devlin down but Peter stubbornly refused to give them the go-ahead.

But Devlin let him go suddenly when Pamela screamed his name, a little too late. A pocket knife tore at his shoulders as he was able to duck in time to prevent it from being plunged into his neck. Devlin used both hands to hold down the geyser of blood that was squirting from his carotid. He angrily whacked Peter across the face, sending him staggering backward. He twisted his arm and unleashed a kick that knocked Peter off his feet and sent the knife flying.

"That is for the money you made me lose." He held him by the shirt and raised him to his feet and punched him again, one harder than the former. "That is for Rob and Dore." He gutted him with his balled fists and kneed him in the groin, making himself deaf to Peter's gurgled groans. "That is for my men that you hurt." The last punch, which Devlin gathered with all of his strength could kill Peter, and he was a hundred percent ready to unleash it. He retreated his hands to gather momentum, ready to finish the betrayer once and for all, when suddenly, everywhere burst with cops.

"Stand down! Stand down! You are surrounded!"

Everywhere became noisy as police radio was shouting instructions along with their siren wail. Peter's men that had been stationed outside had not been able to subdue them, and the remainder of his men who had aimed their guns at Peter when the fight had started was enough to prevent the handful of Bull's men from shooting him.

"I repeat, everyone, drop your weapons! You are surrounded!"

Devlin was glad the cops were around, but he was angry at the same time because he was not satisfied. He still needed to punch the lights out of Peter. He could let him go, pity him, but Peter, although looking weak and bloodied, still had a smug and unremorseful look on his face which irritated the dickens out of him. Devlin angrily gave Peter one last deathly punch that sent him flat on the floor. "And that is for hurting my wife."

"Enough, mister!" A cop yelled at him.

Devlin raised his hands in surrender and stepped back. "You guys are so on time."

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