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Chapter 82: Sarah
“Make. Them. Stop!”
Watch his chest. I remember my instructor’s voice. Watch his chest, not his hands or his eyes. The chest telegraphs your opponent’s moves. I don’t want to give away how much training I’ve had, but I’m not about to let Amos hit me. His hand, clenched in my clothes, bunches more tightly. I relax and let my weight sink into my toes.
“Stop it!” The demand is snapped at us from right beside us. Francesca has come storming up to us, waving her mobile phone. “Back off, Amos, or I’m calling the police to report an assault in progress.”
Amos’s head turns abruptly to glare at Francesca, but he doesn’t let go of me or lower his other hand. “It’s not an assault-”
“Looks like assault from here,” Francesca says, starting to tap numbers in on her phone. “Where’s your fist, Amos? What exactly is it doing there?”
It’s still in the air, and it might still come my way. I’m not taking my eyes off hi
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