Hard to Stop by Wendy Byrne Read Free Book Online Page B

going on. Who knew what those two idiots would come up with? "I'm a good cop."
    "You're one of the best, but what you're getting mixed up in isn't going to do you any favors." He shook his head. "I'm not going to change my mind about this." As an exclamation point to his comment, he put on his reading glasses and began to examine one of the numerous files on his desk.
     
    *   *   *
     
    Holy shit. Somebody was following him.
    Max felt the uptick in his pulse when he'd rounded the corner. The Shaw itch raced down his back, and he knew. The way that sixth sense kicked in was both welcome and terrifying. Immediately his muscles tensed, his reflexes readying for what might lie ahead.
    His street was deserted at nearly ten p.m. Counting the steps echoing behind him didn't shake the sensations warring inside. At least two people. Maybe three.
    His natural instincts had served him well many times before. Like at Heir Ricker's mountaintop home, where he'd almost died, he'd had that sense of déjà vu long before the attack came. He could almost feel it wafting in the air, whispering at him to be cautious.
    But it came out ugly and distorted and a vengeful conflux of hate, mistrust, and lies when the attack came back then. Jake had somehow blamed himself for what had happened, even though it had never been his fault. The blame lay upon Max's shoulders. No one else's.
    Just like this.
    Payback was coming to roost. Big time.
    And he had no control over it. So he needed to be prepared.
    What would they use? Gun? Knife? Their fists? He couldn't say for sure. So he'd have to prepare for any eventuality. Every possibility.
    Max stopped as if checking his phone and oblivious to what waited behind him. Their footsteps stilled. Definitely two people. The perception so acute that adrenaline flooded his synapses, making his brain go into red alert. Others might have dismissed the sensation, but not him. He knew better.
    They wore gym shoes, not street shoes, the sound different in a way only someone who'd become accustomed to these kinds of altercations would instinctively know. All of these outward signs would pass by most people. That was not the case with him. Especially not now.
    The timing had to be perfect. Two against one—hardly a fair fight, but one he'd won many times before.
    One.
    Two.
    Three.
    He twisted while bringing a sweeping roundhouse kick at his attackers. They evaded his strike without much trouble, leading him to believe he might be a little rustier than he thought.
    But they had knives.
    Crap.
    He should have seen that move coming. They weren't there to beat him up. They were there to kill him. Their first attempt had failed. Knives were more deadly than guns in close situations. It was a knife that had nearly killed him before.
    They circled, weighing each other in the way skilled opponents do while waiting for an opening. He waited for them to make their move first. The smaller of the two came at him, slashing the knife in a long arch while he advanced. Max struck the guy's arm with one hand while punching the guy's throat with his left. While the guy choked and struggled for breath, the other guy came after him. Max sidestepped and blocked the guy's attack, forcing back his arm. The knife went skittering to the ground a few feet away. Unfortunately, the first guy had already recovered and advanced. Max ducked and turned, driving him back with a roundhouse kick. Guy number one stumbled and looked shaken, but Max didn't expect him to give up.
    Keeping a visual on the two of them when they were both in his peripheral vision wasn't easy. Instead, he focused on the guy on the right. Even though he was bigger, his reflexes were slower, thereby making him an easier target. The guy on the left was smaller but more agile than the one on the right. And, more importantly, he had managed to retrieve his knife.
    Damn. If Max survived this, he was carrying his gun from now on.
    He sucked in a breath and strategized. He'd been in