Page 52 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

“Here!” Yugo threw the kettle at Rick’s chest, and the man instinctively grabbed it with both hands.

With a satisfied hum, Yugo booted him in the stomach to buy himself a second.

With a slow, strained exhale, Rick stumbled back, muscles flexing under his wet skin.

He hurled the kettle aside. It hit the floor somewhere by the window and clattered into the shadowed corner.

A few seconds of distraction was enough for Yugo to wrench free from his jacket and toss it aside.

“You’re terrible at following orders, dog. Wasn’t that why you were discharged from the service? You should have learned your lesson. It would have saved your life. Maybe.” Yugo rolled the metallic taste on his tongue, spat out some blood into the mess of water and ceramic shards.

“I’ll wipe it clean with your fucking face,” Rick promised, squaring his shoulders.

Yugo backed away, his hand sliding along the infuriatingly empty kitchen counter.

A knife would be welcome right now, but he didn’t want to start opening the drawers and giving his opponent new ideas.

Half a head taller, with cords of lean muscle, Rick had long limbs and looked like he’d imbibed steroids with his mother’s milk.

He was also naked except for his black boxers.

Rick’s lack of clothes provided an additional advantage, as Yugo still had enough layers to grab and toss around like a rag doll.

The prospect of dancing in circles with a half-decent, physically refreshed fighter, let alone this gorilla from the Special Forces, did not bode well for exhausted and intoxicated Yugo. He regretted leaving the gun at home. It would have saved him so much hassle.

A glance searching for a weapon was nearly cut short by a fist aimed at his eye. Yugo’s elbow ached as he blocked Rick’s left cross with it just in time. The force absorbed into his bones rattled his nerves, and an annoying numbness settled in his shoulder.

Despite the sinking realization that he’d have to take Rick to the floor to win this fight, Yugo aimed a straight front kick at Rick’s knee to break his stance and set back the shrinking distance between them.

Hopping back, he raised his hand and shook it to get the blood flowing again.

Sensation returned to his numb shoulder.

If I don’t break the pattern, a few well-aimed punches will knock me out cold. Greg will laugh his ass off. With a long, calming exhalation, Yugo focused. Gears turned in his mind, searching for his opponent’s weaknesses.

Rick’s movements were precise in his attempts to close the distance enough for his long limbs to reach the target, but not too close for Yugo to reach him back. His physical disadvantage infuriated Yugo.

Rick’s feet were firmly planted on the floor, shoulder-width apart, right foot staggered forward, hands raised to protect his head . He was done mindlessly attacking and now regarded Yugo with equal attention.

Rick shifted his balance to his rear leg, with fluid movement.

This, together with the long cylindrical punching bag hanging in the middle of the room, gave Yugo enough reason to believe that Rick was a left-handed kickboxer, or maybe he was using a left-handed stance to confuse him.

Like Greg, Rick’s extra layer of muscle reduced his speed and agility; not much, but Yugo thought he was faster.

Yugo slunk closer, mirroring Rick’s pose.

Keeping his left foot outside of Rick’s right one for distance control, he probed his opponent’s defenses with two left jabs to the head and a right hook to the throat.

The man flinched away, covering up with forearms. Two quick kicks followed, leaving pink marks on Rick’s right calf and thigh. Yugo leaped back.

The adrenaline coursing through Yugo’s veins burned away the remnants of alcohol from his blood.

“Human trash…” The puppies howled in response to their master’s war cry, as his roundhouse kick flashed in front of Yugo’s eyes, making him swerve back and away from the kitchen counter to avoid being pinned against it.

The seemingly large room ended abruptly with his calves bumping against the dog cage. The puppies growled and barked, wanting to aid their master by catching Yugo’s ankles with their sharp teeth.

“Back off!” Yugo’s heel slammed into the side of the cage with a loud BANG , causing the puppies to jump away only to fling themselves against the bars with renewed force.

A moment’s distraction almost cost Yugo dearly when Rick fired a knee to his gut. Yugo darted to the side on pure instinct. Rick’s shin grazed the edge of the cage. High on adrenaline, the pups also barked at their master.

“Hush!” Rick hissed, slamming his palm down on the metal edge with an angry thud, a scarlet line spreading across his shin, beading with blood.

Cringing from the loud noise, Yugo began to doubt Kuon’s presence. The former cop wouldn’t ignore such havoc, and hiding wasn’t in his character. Then where the fuck is he, and why is the gorilla fighting? To buy Kuon time to escape?

Rick twirled, teeth bared. Without breaking eye contact, Yugo backed toward the center of the room, widening his stance and hunching forward, hands held level with his chest.

Despite the quick brawl, the heady scent of sweat permeated the air. Waves of rage cast a nearly visible red mist as the atmosphere darkened.

Black eyes promised death as Rick lunged at him.

The muscles in his neck were taut, the thick veins popping up and crawling up his chin and temples, swelling under his eyes.

The corner of Yugo’s mouth twitched. Anger was a bad adviser.

He’d learned that long ago, but who was he to deny Rick a lesson?

A hellish hail of punches rained down on Yugo’s stomach and arms. His body moved on its own, shifting out of the attack’s line and ramming his shin into Rick’s thigh.

Weaving to the left, Yugo let another punch miss his face by a hair to drive his elbow into Rick’s neck, then he tucked in and followed the motion with a roll.

His other sleeve was soaked as well. His palm landed on a ceramic shard—not sharp enough to cut but painfully annoying for him to lose a moment and reposition his hand.

Rick didn’t even stagger. He spun and swung at Yugo, delivering quick, smooth blows, followed by controlled exhalations.

Every blow buzzed through Yugo’s bones as he took one step back after another, blocking, blocking, blocking.

His shins burned from deflecting a few low kicks Rick threw in an attempt to break his stance and slow him down.

Rick’s increasing speed didn’t give him time to regain the initiative for more than a few strikes.

Still, he hoped that sooner or later, this fucking gorilla would make a mistake.

When Rick leaped back and lashed out with a crescent kick to his neck, Yugo ducked under his leg. Arms wrapped around the smooth, sweaty torso from behind, Yugo threw his weight forward, tripping Rick’s pivoting leg with his own.

The man turned in his fall, and crushing pain shot through Yugo’s leg where Rick’s hip landed on his knee.

Unable to find a grip, his fingers slid across the bare, sweat-soaked chest. Pinning down the writhing, clammy body was like catching an eel with bare hands.

Yugo cursed as Rick stood on all fours in an attempt to prop his foot and get up.

“Stay down, dog…” Yugo’s teeth clenched in effort as he relocked his slipping grip. He kneed the back of Rick’s knee, trying to knock him off balance and throw him back down.

Yugo’s jaw dropped as muscles bulged under his grip. Slowly, Rick pressed one foot to the floor, then the other. A little more, and Rick would be standing with Yugo hanging on his back like a weightless monkey.

Fucking gorilla, what do you eat for breakfast? Playing dirty, Yugo slammed the toe of his shoe into Rick’s Achilles tendon, causing his legs to shake. He used the momentum to pull backward, throwing them both to the floor again.

Every vertebra in his spine shrieked, bruising against the hard floor, as more than two hundred pounds crashed down on his chest. The blinding pain made him want to hug his ribs.

They rolled on the ground, hissing and snarling. Rick tried to shake Yugo off, elbowing back, but his swing wasn’t wide enough to do more than a dull thud to Yugo’s flank.

Wheezing, Yugo wrapped his legs around Rick’s torso. His arm locked across the clavicles in an attempt to lift Rick’s chin. His free hand grasped his other forearm and pulled it tight.

Iron fingers dug into Yugo’s wrists, trying to pry them off. Rick’s neck reddened, blue veins swelling and pulsing, threatening to burst as Yugo managed to slip his forearm under his chin and finally secure a rear naked choke.

Rick rolled onto his back, then onto his stomach, hoping to break free, but each attempt was slower than the last. The grappling drained both of them of energy, but Yugo’s resources were already low, or maybe the man was too strong, because the choke failed to send Rick into quick oblivion.

Rick didn’t claw at Yugo’s hands in the helpless rage of a novice; instead, he grabbed his wrist with one hand and his fingers with the other, ripping them off from behind his head. The world tilted as the former soldier pushed to his knees, and one of his feet found the ground again.

Bloody hell… How strong is he?

Rick staggered to his feet and stumbled toward the kitchen counter with Yugo still hanging on his back. In his rival’s shoes, the Black Duke would be fumbling for a knife to finish him off. The thought alarmed, flooding his veins with pure adrenaline.

Yugo groaned, tightening the choke. Every muscle in his body flexed. His teeth gnashed, and a nerve in his cracked molar jolted with a mind-piercing pain that radiated through his skull.

The rapid drumming of Rick’s pulse echoed through Yugo’s bones, awakening something primal in him. His head swam in the blinding euphoria of a bloodthirsty predator. Every cell in his body recharged, as if he were draining the life from his prey.

If he squeezed any harder, Rick’s windpipe would snap, the light would fade from his black eyes, and the lifeless body would collapse with a satisfying thud at Yugo’s feet.

Temptation blinded, but he controlled his breathing, hoping the man would pass out before he succumbed to his inner demons.

“Get down, dog. Let’s not upset Kuon with your death, hm? ”

Rick’s stubbornness and strength inspired respect and doubt as the kitchen counter slowly loomed closer. The purple face showed drastic signs of asphyxiation, but a ragged breath escaped through his constricted throat as Rick managed to shift Yugo’s grip a fraction.

Slowly but inevitably, with the inhuman force, Rick wrenched two of Yugo’s fingers from the back of his head. A second longer and his digits would be twisted out of their sockets.

Yugo half-turned to look for something to support his case when a black movement stole his focus. He turned his head, catching a hammock swaying a few feet away, disturbed by their struggle.

Heel to the floor, Yugo jerked Rick to himself, applying even more pressure on his trapped throat. Rick’s foot squeaked against the floor. He slipped on a puddle of water and staggered backward, dropping his weight on Yugo.

Drenched in sweat, Yugo growled. His free hand stopped struggling to relock the choke; it darted back, grabbed the black net, and wrapped it around Rick’s head. Yugo tightened the cords with all his might, forcing his burning lungs to take slow, controlled, and deep breaths.

Rick’s expression darkened as the fishnet sank into his face, rippling his skin in a diamond pattern. Black eyes flashed white as gnarled fingers hooked into the net, mouth flapping for air. Yugo pulled harder, tightening the hammock.

Seconds ticked by as the purple face turned bluish and the eyes rolled back, revealing bloodshot sclera. Yugo let go, leaving the motionless body on the floor. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, donned his jacket, and headed toward the last bedroom.

Trying to filter through the adrenaline fog, he gripped the handle and yanked the door open. His fist slammed the light switch, and white, clinical light purged the darkness.