We were about the same height but the resemblance ended. He outweighed me by twenty pounds at least. And he was more muscular in the right places. But he was slow. And that was my ace in the hole, my speed.
I shoved my hand against the top of his head trying to get him off balance. It was a mistake which almost ended the fight before it had more than started. He shot both hands to the one I had on his hair, and jerked down, at the same time butting upward with his head.
I ducked, that is partly; his head caught me a glancing blow along the cheekbone and ripped the flesh as though he had used a knife. It was a good thing I was wearing cleated boots. Even as I went back I kicked sideways, the cleats catching him just below the kneecap and again almost doubling him up.
I heard the sound of Jennie's scream as my blood spattered the counter when I whipped my head to clear it of the pain-fog. Then I could see clearly again. And Bull was charging in. I danced out of the way and as he went past, I clipped him but good. He half-fell against the counter almost knocking it over. Once more there was the high-pitched sound of Jennie's voice. But I heard it only in the back of my mind. Because I was busy trying to wear my knuckles down on Bull's jaw. He grunted every time I hit him, but those thick legs of his kept moving him forward. His arms were high, he was wide-open, and I was slugging the hell out of the guy, but he kept coming in for more. I knew what he wanted, to get me in the circle of those arms. And what they'd do to me once they got me there.