Bound (Mastered #1)(92)

Ronin didn't budge.

Which pissed off the black guy. "You deaf? Or you need an incentive to do what the fuck we tell you?"

"I'm not deaf. I'm also not handing over my wallet. Here's your warning to back off."

"Back off? Or what? You're outnumbered, dumb fuck."

"Got ourselves a real hero here," the other guy drawled. "Let's see how tough you are."

Please no. What if the guy had a gun? Or a knife?

The Hispanic kid moved in on Ronin's right side as the black guy came at him from the left. She wasn't sure where the two other guys were. She just knew that four against one were shitty odds and she couldn't get to her phone to call 911.

Everything happened in slow motion-but also lightning fast.

Ronin stepped forward as the Hispanic attacker came at him. He delivered an open-handed strike to the guy's nose and swept his feet out from beneath him. The guy hit the ground hard and howled in agony, clutching his broken nose.

The black guy didn't spare his buddy a glance; all his rage was focused on Ronin. He held his arms up and in front of his face and performed a couple of shadowboxing moves. But as soon as he led with his right hand, Ronin grabbed it, twisted the dude's arm entirely behind his back until something popped. The guy yelled-as much from pain as the fact that he also found himself on the ground eating dirt.

In that moment Amery couldn't look away from Ronin's effortless control of the situation. He'd barely moved; he hadn't even broken a sweat.

When the other two thugs-both white punks-approached him, Ronin said, "Walk away."

"Fuck you," one of the guys retorted. He jumped into the fray only to find himself facedown on the filthy wet pavement clutching the knee Ronin had kicked. 

The other one turned tail and ran.

Amery thought they'd get out of there pronto, but Ronin was patting down each guy. When he found two guns, she had another resurgence of fear.

What if the guy had just pulled out a gun and shot them both?

Breathe. Come on, Ronin. We're supposed to run. Remember what you taught me?

She watched in horrified fascination as Ronin ejected the clips from the guns, pulled back on the thumb release, and dumped the bullets on the ground. He wiped down the metal before he whipped the empty clips into the street drain. Then he jammed one gun beneath the waistband in the small of his back and let the other gun dangle in his hand.

Ronin backed away and said, "Let's go," to her.

They remained silent on their brisk walk back to his vehicle. They only stopped once at a Dumpster to ditch the guns. He opened the passenger door to the SUV, hoisted her in, and didn't speak until they were out of the sketchy part of town.

"Are you okay?"

She shook her head.

He picked up her hand and kissed it. "What can I do?"

"I don't know."

Even after they parked his car and took the elevator to his place, Ronin gave her a wide berth. Maybe fighting and ditching firearms were just par for the course with him, but they weren't for her. Not at all. Her body hadn't settled down from the adrenaline rush. She shook so hard she thought she might be sick. As soon as the elevator doors opened to his penthouse, she made a beeline for the bathroom.

He didn't try and barge in.

She splashed cold water on her face and gulped several mouthfuls of water before exiting the bathroom.

Ronin waited outside the door. "Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Amery. Talk to me."

"I don't know what to say. I just don't understand."

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you take their guns? Why didn't we just leave once you had them on the ground?"

"You think I wanted to take a chance they'd shoot one or both of us in the back? Not happening. I disarmed them, broke their guns down, and scattered the pieces."

"Why not turn the guns in to the cops and tell them we were attacked?"

"Chances are slim the guns were registered. Those thugs won't report them as missing. If I file a report and the cops go looking for those guys, and the guns I ditched, I could end up in a lawsuit and I sure as fuck don't want those guys knowing who I am and where I live."

Amery hadn't thought of it that way.

"Plus, given my background in martial arts, lots of people, including cops, believe I go looking for fights. I don't. But there is that perception and I'll be goddamned if I'll defend myself to anyone-including law enforcement-for my right to defend myself when under attack." He breathed deeply. "You were there. You'd rather I would've done the PC thing, given them what they wanted? Because I can guarantee you neither of us would've walked away unscathed. And because I reacted the way I did, the way I've been trained to react, we're both here, in one piece. I won't apologize to you for that either."