It's been a long time since I submitted this story. Although it had been well received, I always felt that I could have done more to make the story special for the readers. I finally got the time (and energy) to re-edit the story from scratch, so if you haven't read it in a while, please try it again and let me know what you think.
Thanks to my original editor, Angel-Love and to the people who helped me with the technical aspects of the story. It was very much appreciated.
*
Jeff walked out of the bar deep in thought. He would be thirty years old in just two weeks and had very little to show for it. There was a decent job, a string of short relationships and a lot of bills. He never thought his life would have turned out like this. He was smart, athletic and well educated. Although he wasn't every girl's dream, he was attractive by most standards and had his share of relationships with desirable women.
Unfortunately, none of the relationships had lasted more than a few months. At this point he was starting to worry that it was a trend without an end in sight. He considered himself a good guy and had always wanted a family. It was beginning to make him doubt himself and his future.
He was having a lousy Friday night. It was midnight and he was walking out of the bars alone...again. At least since it wasn't cloudy the moon lit up the streets and made it seem a little less depressing than it should have been. It all made him wonder if things would ever turn around.
As he turned the corner, he noticed the street was a little more deserted than usual. He attributed it to everyone still being in the bars having a good time, or on their way home to have a better one.
As he walked past the alley on the East side of the intersection, a noise attracted Jeff's attention. He peered into the darkness between the two buildings and his heart stopped. There was a young woman struggling with two men. They were dressed in jeans and torn shirts. Both wore the same color bandanas making Jeff suspect they were in a gang. It would have been normal for the neighborhood. The crime was getting worse in that section of the city and he wondered why the hell she was there alone at that time of night.
He was quiet as he tried to decide what the situation was before doing something stupid. From her struggles, he was almost certain this wasn't some kind of game. After a few moments, his eyes adjusted and he could see she was a petite brunette, about five feet tall, thin and well dressed. But what Jeff noticed most was that she was drop dead gorgeous.
Confident that this was a real attack, he pulled out his cell phone and stepped back away from the alley.
"911," a woman's voice answered. "Please state your emergency."
"I'm on the corner of Superior and Wabash. There's a woman being attacked in the alley by a couple of thugs. Please hurry!"
"Sir, I have officers on the way. Please wait for them and don't get involved."
A muffled scream put an end to that thought for Jeff. He cautiously glanced around the edge of the building and saw that the girl was being held from behind by one man as the other ripped her shirt. He reached a hand inside to cup one of her breasts and Jeff couldn't stop himself from walking toward them.
He set the phone down on a garbage can so the operator might be able to hear some of what was happening.
"Hey, what's going on?" he demanded.
The man in front of the girl whirled around to face him, "You need to mind your own business. We're all friends here." The girl moaned through the hand the punk in back had put over her mouth.
Jeff quickly did the math on the situation. If neither man had a gun, he was confident he had a chance. The alley was wide enough for him to maneuver, giving him the room he'd need to deal with two men at once. He hoped for an element of surprise on his side, because he didn't appear to be an imposing opponent. At under six feet tall and about one hundred, eighty-five pounds, he wasn't going to frighten anyone based on his imposing image.
What they didn't know was the years of martial arts training he went through in his mid-twenties and the tournament fights he participated in. He wasn't overconfident; his teachers had thoroughly taught him the need to have the proper amount of respect for an adversary. Any fight can be lost if you slip, turn an ankle, miss a punch, or make any one of a hundred other mistakes that can happen in the heat of the moment. Also, he had to hope neither of the hoods was holding any surprises for him.
No matter what, Jeff couldn't let them hurt this girl. Her eyes pleaded with him for help and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't try to protect her. When he refused to move, the man in front of her showed him the knife in his hand. His partner holding the girl nodded and said, "Take him."
Jeff tried to appear unnerved, hoping he could still avoid a fight. "Listen, nobody has to get hurt here. Just let her go and we'll head the other way."
The man with the knife sneered and said, "Only one of us is going to get hurt. You should've kept walking."
Jeff saw the man tense as he moved forward. He swung the knife in a wide arc, keeping it around chest level. Jeff smoothly stepped inside and blocked the thug's arm with both hands. His right hand flashed out quickly and caught the attacker in the cheek with the back of his fist. Jeff continued his movement, stepping under the man's arm, grabbing his wrist and turning it in.
The punk dropped the knife with a whine and Jeff finished the move he had practiced thousands of times with a roundhouse kick to the ribs. As the man doubled over in pain, Jeff stepped in and finished him off with an elbow strike to the nose. He was rewarded with a loud breaking sound and a cry of pain as the man dropped to the ground.
Jeff stepped back and looked at the man holding the girl. Now that he was closer, he could make out her condition. She had been roughed up a little, with her face showing several cuts and scratches. He still hoped to get out of this without any more violence. It was possible the girl could get hurt in the melee or that he could lose, putting her in even more jeopardy than before.
"I'm telling you, let her go and we'll walk. You can get your friend and go your own way. Neither of us wants to get hurt, just let her go." Jeff considered telling him about the call to the police, but worried that the piece of shit might panic and hurt the girl, or decide his only option was to take her hostage.
The man looked like he was considering the offer, but suddenly threw her into some garbage cans against the brick wall. She fell to the ground in a heap. The thug stepped quickly toward Jeff, hoping to catch him off guard. Jeff retreated a couple of steps, trying to get a clue about this man's proficiency with a knife. The first one was sloppy and easy, but he wasn't about to make any assumptions. Jeff guessed the man was about six feet tall, two hundred pounds. His height gave him a little advantage, especially while using a knife.
As he stepped forward, Jeff made a dangerous gamble. He quickly slid his back foot up to his front one, raising his knee high. The man fell for it and raised his hands to protect his face, putting too much weight on his front leg. Jeff brought his left leg down with all his force, catching the other man just on the inside of his knee. The joint gave way with a sickening thud, bending to an impossible angle. As the man hit the ground with a scream, Jeff stepped back to keep from getting hit with a frantic swing from the prone attacker.
He was trying to decide what to do about the man who was still a potential threat when he heard startled cry, "Look out!"
He looked up and saw the girl staring past him with a fear in her eyes. He realized something bad was about to happen, so guessed a direction and spun quickly while stepping away. Unfortunately he guessed wrong and felt an explosion across his chest. The pain hit him a fraction of a second later. He took another step back as he realized he was facing a new adversary. This one must have come from the street. He was wielding the knife the first man had dropped.
Jeff was afraid to bring his hand to his chest. He knew the wound was bad and didn't want anything to distract him from the man in front of him. There couldn't be any more mistakes or he knew he wouldn't be walking out of the alley again. The new man made small motions with the knife, waiting for Jeff to commit himself or for the loss of blood to take it's toll. When Jeff felt a wave of dizziness hit him, he decided to act immediately. If he waited much longer, it wouldn't matter anyway.
He stepped forward and threw a quick jab that missed badly. This gave his opponent an opening and he moved in with a stab aimed at Jeff's chest.
This was what Jeff had been hoping for and he twisted, bringing his left arm across to push the knife wide of it's target. This kept his right arm free and he brought it across, hitting the man as hard as he could across the bridge of the nose. It caused his assailant to stumble back into some other trash cans, where he fell hard. Unfortunately due to his injury, Jeff now lacked the strength to cause the kind of damage he had earlier. He knew the man wouldn't stay down and didn't believe he'd be able to finish him off.
Where are the fucking police?
he thought angrily.
His momentary distraction was the second mistake he had hoped to avoid. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a quick flash, then felt the side of his head erupt in pain. The force of the blow spun him into the wall. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog. When he looked up, he realized he could no longer focus. There were no more options. The fight was over and he had lost. He faced the man who had just hit him, his first opponent, who had used Jeff's distraction with the others to recover enough to get to his feet and hit him with a pipe he found laying on the ground.
The first punch he learned in his martial arts training was a unique one. The teacher wanted to reinforce how dangerous fighting could be in order to discourage students from being too eager to get into trouble. He chose to show them how to turn their hand on an angle and strike the target with the bone just below the base of the index finger. The blow was supposed to catch the opponent in the windpipe, which would stun virtually anyone. The thing that made the class understand how serious it could be was when the teacher explained that hitting your opponent in the wrong spot could be fatal. You could collapse his windpipe or cause him to bleed into his lungs. It was a lesson Jeff never forgot, causing him to avoid fights at all costs.
