Claimed by the Mafia Biker
Blade pivoted, swinging his knife, sparks scattering as steel met steel.
I felt our daughter tremble against me. “Daddy…?” she whispered.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Cruz said, spinning to shield us both. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. “Stay close. Don’t let go.”
The shadow lunged again, striking Cruz’s shoulder. Pain flared across his face, but he gritted his teeth, swinging the gun like a club, forcing it back.
Blade slashed, cutting across the figure’s arm, but the thing seemed to absorb the blows, twisting, disappearing, leaving only the scrape and ringing echo behind.