"You're just trying to stall me," he mutters. Dropping the lighter in his pocket, he pulls out a second knife.
"Maybe."
"I won't go to jail. I have a better idea. I take out you and your tin leg and then go after Claudia and her brother."
"You can try," I reply with a faint smile, my resolve solidifying as I realize he won't go quietly. I toss the weapon. "You can have the first punch."
He steps around the armchair at last, and I lower my stance.
The moment he's close enough to swing, it's over, knives or not. The Monster slashes at me. I knock his arm away, spin him and punch him hard in the side of the head. A blow like that scrambles a man's brain, but he reacts anyway and lashes out once more.
In all of three moves, he's disarmed, staggering and clutching a bloodied nose. Subduing him will be easy. He gets in one blow, a punch that glances my cheek. He fights with emotion and fury, while I was trained to go to battle and rely on my instincts and training to assess, disarm and go on the offensive with discipline rather than emotion.
It'd be easy to kill him. I have the training and there are no witnesses. Knowing how he hurt Claudia and Todd, I also have every reason in the world to ensure they never, ever run across this monster ever again.
It also goes against my training and my honor as a good person. I've been raised in the military to use only what force is necessary, to preserve life where possible, to act out of noble reasons rather than personal ones.
I can't … I won't do something I might regret, like kill a man who has no chance against me. But I will ensure he doesn't track down Claudia anymore.
I let The Monster get a couple more almost-punches in and then hit him hard with a punch to the throat and knee to the chest. While he gags and tries to breathe once more, I wrap an arm around his shoulders and slam him backwards onto my metal leg. There's a sickening crack of his spine, and then he screams.
Dropping him, I stand over him for a moment, wanting to do more but determined to stay in control. There's no need to tell him to stay away from my family. He's not only headed to prison, but I doubt he'll be able to walk again, either.
With another look around at the apartment, I leave, unable to feel one ounce of empathy for the man who hurt Claudia. Three sheriff's deputies are barreling down the hallway towards me. I recognize all of them from school or events we've hosted and raise my hands instinctively.