Her skirt is pushed up around her hips, his hand wedged between her thighs. The sight turns my stomach and strengthens my resolve.
But I have to do something. I have to fight.
I’m stronger than I look, you know.
I lift the weight up over my head with both hands. Sara turns and sees me over the bastard’s shoulder at the last second. Her cheeks are tearstained, her expression terrified, but hope flickers across her face.
I bring the weight down hard, as hard as I can. The edge of it cracks against the back of Eagle Tattoo’s head with a wet, nasty noise. His hands slacken at once around Sara’s wrists.
But I can’t see his face.
Have I struck a fatal blow or have I just succeeded in pissing him off?
I’m not gonna be able to fight him in my condition.
Oh, God, what have I done, little bi
