Marc took a step forward, bringing them to within inches of each other as the wind gusted through the dead corn. "Real close."
Kenn's eyes narrowed and his hairy knuckles inched toward the 9mm on his hip. "She has a man, you fucking Jody! Back off!"
Marc snorted, furious blue eyes full of contempt. "If you want to call yourself that."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean, boot?" Kenn sneered threateningly, lightly-bearded face full of hate.
Marc put them chest to chest without hesitation, "It means she's not your punching bag anymore! You wanna hit someone, grungeshit, you hit me!"
Kenn didn't hesitate either, and he swung hard. The hit rocked Marc's head back and then the two men were at each other, trading vicious blows.
"Like that?" Kenn taunted, following the upper cut with a powerful roundhouse.
Marc ducked the blow, landed a nasty knuckle to Kenn's temple that made the Marine stagger. "Yeah! More!"
Kenn rushed him, head slamming into his gut, and Marc immediately drove his elbow into Kenn's shoulder blade.
Kenn jerked, grunting as he was rocked off his balance, and they hit the dirt with a hard thud, swinging, wrestling, trying to get the advantage.
Angela waved a hand at Dog to stay back as Marc pushed Kenn off of him with his legs and rolled onto his feet.
Kenn rushed, and Marc ducked again, foot flashing out at the last minute to trip him up.
The blow the jealous man had been throwing glanced off Marc's wounded arm and Brady kicked him in the ribs as he went down, wound stinging from ripped stitches.
Kenn was on his feet in a blur, hand flying toward his hip, and both of Brady's guns were out before the furious Marine could pull his own.
"Do it!" Marc goaded, fingers tightening…longing to squeeze. "Make it count. I will."