Ty latched onto Zane’s wrist in return and spun, pulling Zane’s arm over his shoulder and jamming his body into the bigger man to send him head over heels to the ground. Zane went crashing down, but Ty lost his balance under the weight and the pain in his shoulder and collapsed to one knee beside him.
Despite the painful impact on the concrete and the spots dancing in his vision, Zane pulled his knees to his chest and used the momentum to spring into a modified kip, getting himself to his feet, albeit shakily. He immediately shifted and kicked out at Ty’s side, the bottom of his boot aimed at the other man’s ribs. He wasn’t a classically trained fighter by any stretch of the imagination. Zane was a street fighter, a scrapper, accustomed to using his greater weight and reach to defend himself. Unfortunately, Ty was too close to him in size for those options to do Zane any good.
Ty rolled in the muck of the alley and the ever-present puddle of dirty water just in time to miss the brunt of the kick. Instead, Zane’s toe landed at the tender spot under his rib cage as he moved, narrowly missing the gun in his holster again. Ty rolled up into a crouch and then spun out with a retaliatory kick to Zane’s ankles.
Zane’s feet slid out from under him before he even knew what had happened, and he found himself once more on his back. He managed to get himself up pretty quickly, just to have Ty aim another spinning kick at his ankles as soon as he was upright.
He tried to jump out of the way but hissed in anger as Ty’s boot caught his calf and sent him staggering. “Goddammit!” he shouted as he righted himself.
Ty was still on his knees, doubled over and laughing at him as he held his bruised ribs. This was just a game to him, apparently, and the thought made Zane see red. Too mad to back away, Zane lunged forward to haul Ty to his feet by the back of his jacket. Ty threw his arms behind him as if he were doing a backstroke and slid out of the jacket easily, leaving it in Zane’s hands as he spun away, slightly off balance and still laughing breathlessly.
Throwing the jacket aside, Zane pushed Ty against the bricks of the nearby wall, face first, grabbing for his arm to try to pull it behind him and restrain him. He realized that Ty wasn’t laughing anymore just a moment too late.
He gripped Zane’s wrist with practiced ease, squeezing the pressure point there that would send blinding pain shooting up Zane’s arm.
“Goddammit!” Zane howled again as he lost feeling in his arm. He retaliated by pulling Ty back with the other hand and slamming him against the wall again, this time with his forearm across the back of Ty’s neck as his other arm hung limp and useless. “Stop it,” he growled.
“Got no idea what you’re doing, son,” Ty murmured calmly, though his body was tense and coiled as he gave Zane one last chance to stop this before he really hurt him.
The hair on the back of Zane’s neck stood up, and he shoved himself off the other man and began backing out of reach. He sure as hell didn’t trust Ty not to turn around and take another swing. Not now.
Ty turned around slowly and glared at him, but he didn’t strike out.
He pointed to the ground and snarled, “Give me my damn jacket.”
“You’re the one who came out of it, ass**le,” Zane spat back harshly.
He wasn’t backing down; not now. This was one fight he’d see through to the finish. It would probably end up with him face-down in the alley, but at least he could still look himself in the mirror afterward.
Ty stepped away from the wall angrily and shoved him. Having expected some sort of physical answer, Zane immediately lashed out his right fist, hitting Ty square in the jaw. It hurt like hell and echoed up through his elbow, but he knew he’d made solid contact. Ty staggered back a step but came right back at him with blinding speed, lashing out with two hard cuts to Zane’s midsection and then kicking at the inside of his knee as he reached up to find a hold on Zane’s shoulder or neck. The speed and ferocity of the motions made it very clear that Ty had merely been toying with him before.
Zane didn’t have even the slightest chance of protecting himself now, much less retaliating.
Grunting heavily, Zane bent over as he took the two shots in the gut.
When his knee went out, he felt Ty’s hand close tightly on the back of his neck, and he knew what was coming. Ty was about to break his nose over his knee. Zane it had seen it too many times not to know what it would look or feel like. With another grunt, Zane grabbed Ty’s calf and yanked the man’s foot forward, trying desperately to disrupt his balance.
Ty pulled down on the back of Zane’s neck and raised his knee into the man’s face, fully intending to smash his nose and hopefully leave him bleeding and unconscious in the alley. But Zane upended him just enough, and as Ty fell, his knee didn’t hit Zane’s face with enough force to do anything but hurt like a son of a bitch.
Ty landed on his back with a gasp and lay momentarily stunned as the air rushed out of his lungs and the back of his head cracked against the pavement. Zane shuffled back hurriedly and fell on his ass, sprawled and panting as he tried to get a solid breath. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and pushed himself up, trying unsuccessfully to stand. He dabbed at something wet on his face and the back of his hand came away from his upper lip bloody. Holding his still tingling and nearly numb arm, he looked over at Ty warily, waiting for the man’s next move as he tried to steady himself. Zane was sure he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help himself if Ty came at him again. But he’d sure as hell try.
Ty was still on his back, motionless save for one slightly bent knee that was slowly flattening out as he remained where he had fallen in the shallow puddle of standing water. He was either stunned or plotting how next to attack.
“Ow,” he finally groaned plaintively.
Zane grimaced and straightened, feeling his already abused back object loudly. He braced one hand on his knee and pushed himself to his feet.
He tried to even out his breathing as he stepped back a couple more times to put most of the tiny alley between them, just in case. He opened and closed his fist, fingers itching for a knife that he didn’t want to draw, the knuckles screaming from the impact of his punch to Ty’s jaw. His entire face felt like it was on fire and his arm was just then beginning to regain some of the feeling, sending painful little prickles all up and down the limb.
Ty began moving slowly, rolling to his side and pushing himself up carefully. He brushed himself off as he stood, then looked up at Zane coldly as he reached under his arm, shifting the gun at his ribs and wincing at the bruise already forming under it. “You done?” he asked emotionlessly.