Lincoln’s POV
For every swing of his fists, I meet it with one of my own, neither of us holding back as our fists slam into every inch of unprotected skin we can find.
Sweat soon drenches the pair of us, and Demitri steps back just long enough to rip off his own shirt, throwing it to the side before he comes at me again.
Turning slightly, I lift my leg, aiming a kick too his stomach, the mobster grabbing my foot and twisting it, trying to throw me off balance. I spin in the air, pulling back my foot, making him stagger, forcing him to release me as I land back on my feet and drop to the ground, sweeping at his legs as he jumps over the top.
Landing on the balls of his feet, he brings a fist down into my leg before I have a chance to stand again, pain echoing through my thigh as I scram
