Cayson was down on the floor watching everything in high definition. The sound of Joe’s nose cracking had Cayson slamming his hands over his ears like a scared child. It sounded like ice breaking on concrete. The blood spewed from Joe’s nose, even spraying Ford’s white t-shirt as he stood over him, watching with what looked to be satisfaction as Joe screamed and wailed in agony at Ford’s feet.
The doctor in Cayson wanted to run over and control the bleeding, but he didn’t dare move. There was only one more bodyguard left between him and Ford. One throat or nose left to demolish before Ford got to him. Cayson had never been so afraid in his life. Men were on the floor, shaking and crying out in pain and they were all completely helpless. Cayson was mindlessly pushing any and all the buttons on his watch but nothing was happening. No one was there, and the sirens he could hear sounded way too far away to provide any comfort or relief.
The last bodyguard stood taller and pulled a silver handgun from his waistband, aiming it at Ford’s chest. Ford cocked his head to the side as if he were confused. Like he was flabbergasted this man would stay there and try to take him on… and with one measly weapon.
“Leave him alone,” the bodyguard said slowly, like he was talking down a serial killer. “I will shoot you.”
“No, don’t. Please.” Cayson was still crouched down on the floor with his hands still over his ears, dreading the sound of a gunshot. “No, no, no, no.”
Another loud bang resonated through the room. It wasn’t a gunshot, but was just as terrifying. Cayson turned towards the wall and curled in on himself, squeezing his ears harder, trying to eliminate the shouts and curses. He could hear glass breaking and chaos ensuing all around him, but he kept his head down, his eyes squeezed shut so tight they ached, as he tried to mold himself into the corner.
Just go away. All of you just go away. Panic was settling in Cayson’s soul, and he could feel himself slipping back to unconsciousness. He felt like he’d suddenly been drugged. His limbs were heavy as he slid down until he was lying on his side. It felt like it took so much strength just to crack his eyes open, but he managed to get a glimpse of several men in his living room, fighting each other, or fighting together… he couldn’t tell. He was so tired and afraid. His body shook with terror until the sound of a gunshot made him jerk violently, right before his stomach began to convulse and heave while he spit pale yellow saliva onto his floor. He could’ve sworn he heard someone yelling Rome’s name, but maybe it was his imagination, because there was no way Quick would be there for him after what he’d done.
~~~~~~~~~~
Quick was out of Judge’s truck before he even slowed to a stop, and he knew Duke and Dana were gonna be close on his heels. Quick leaped Cayson’s gate like a hurdle and ran fist first into Cayson’s home, taking out the first threat he saw. Ford.
“No. Rome, don’t,” Ford hollered, right before Quick leaped through the air and crashed into him. He’d only had a split second to survey the scene, but in that brief time, he managed to see a blurred image of Cayson’s shivering form on the floor and Ford standing too close to him, his shirt splattered with blood.
As soon as they both hit the floor, Ford rolled them to try to get the advantage. Quick knew that trick and he threw his leg back, stopping the roll, and pushed off, throwing them in the other direction. Quick successfully blocked the first blow Ford threw at his head, but he took a couple body shots before he was able to throw his own. Once he did, he unleashed the full power of his beast onto Ford.
Rome grunted, throwing fast, precise punches and elbows at each sensitive part of Ford’s body. His strikes were so fast that Ford eventually stopped trying to fight back, and went into survival mode. While animals were created with or evolved tons of defense mechanisms to protect themselves from fiercer predators, humans… all they could do was curl into a fetal position and try to protect their vital organs from attack. Ford’s fists were balled tight and tucked close to his head, to protect Quick from breaking anything on his face. His abs and back muscles tightly contracted as Quick tortured Ford’s kidneys by kneeing him hard in back while he rained down punches. In hand-to-hand combat, a fight could feel like ten minutes, when in actuality, it’d only been ten seconds. That’s how long Quick had been on Ford before Duke and Dana got to him. He knew he could do some serious damage in that short amount of time.