Killer of Killers by Mark M. DeRobertis Read Free Book Online

and
martial arts combos. It was an act of futility. Focused razor
sharp, Trent’s concentration kept his oversized opponent moving as
if in slow motion, and he was touched only by the wind of swinging
arms.
    The attack ceased, and TT hunched his
shoulders, heaving swirls of air. Seeing his foe spent and
unguarded, Trent delivered a jump kick to TT’s mouth and then a
roundhouse to the side of his head. The huge Samoan didn’t even
blink. He merely formed a blood-curdling smile and wiped the edge
of his mouth with a shrug of his sleeve. “I am going to kill you
slowly, you son of a bitch. Very slowly. What do you have to say
about that?”
    Up to this point, Trent had no intention of
using a death strike on the monstrous bodyguard assailing him. But
with his life threatened, he had no qualms about changing his mind.
“I kill quickly,” he replied.
    With a roar, TT charged directly into a
circle throw. Trent grabbed TT’s lapels, planted a foot on his hip,
and dropped backward, catapulting the Samoan through the air,
upside down. It was a classic Tomoe Nage .
    * * * *
    Susie and Alicia, still peeking through the
window slot, realized TT was hurtling straight at them. In a panic,
they scurried away, screaming. Scant moments later, TT’s huge body
crashed through their door, which exploded into splinters
throughout the backroom.
    Susie had retreated as far as she could, but
TT slid to within inches of where she and the other girls cowered.
Seeing TT recovering right next to her, she reached for a slice of
wood and broke it over the top of his head.
    TT rubbed his crown and snarled, “Why’d you
do that?”
    “That’s my boyfriend, you big bully.”
    “Your boyfriend? Not for long.”
    * * * *
    Leaping up, TT stormed the now doorless
doorway, but Trent was waiting in a crouch on the other side of the
wall. He kicked his leg out, ankle high, tripping the galloping
goliath head-over-heels through several more tables, bulldozing
each one to rubble before he finally came to a stop.
    With a rabid shake of his head, the
infuriated Samoan picked up a tabletop, still intact but for the
missing table legs. He blitzed Trent, roaring like a madman,
swinging the makeshift weapon sideways. Before Trent could roll
with the blow, it shattered over his body, bashing him to the
floor. Sure to maintain his advantage, TT grabbed another legless
tabletop and brought it down flush over Trent. The furniture again
smashed into countless pieces. Before Trent could recover, TT
grabbed yet another tabletop, raised it high, and a third time
pancaked him, scattering still more debris about the room.
    Trent wasn’t out, but he was taking too much
damage. His ears were ringing, and his blood spilled onto the floor
just inches from his face. Recalling a strategy from his past, he
waited for TT to lift another tabletop, at which point he planned
to topple him with a scissors throw.
    But TT didn’t lift any more tabletops.
Instead, he jumped on Trent’s waist and wrapped his hands around
Trent’s neck. Murderous rage twisted his face, framing the lust for
blood in his eyes. “I told you I was going to kill you slowly, you
son of a bitch. Do you remember that?”
    Trent looked for an opening. Hunched
shoulders covered the scalene muscles of TT’s neck, and his chin,
scrunched onto his chest, shielded the soft part of his throat.
Even though Trent’s arms were still free, he was not in position to
mark a vital organ or nerve anywhere on TT’s enormous trunk. There
was an option available, however, if he could muster the strength
and speed needed to pull it off.
    “I told you nice and slow,” the confident TT
said again.
    Trent knew the man was taking his time,
having yet to employ full force to the stranglehold. TT was killing
him slowly, as he predicted, and Trent felt his life ebbing.
Summoning a final effort, he tightened his fists, thumbs bent at
the knuckle, and fired a bilateral strike, targeting the temples on
TT’s head. It was a