Paul's POV
Time seemed to slow down as the hitman leaped at us, the knife gleaming in the little moonlight. I merely acted; I never gave any thought. Leaching a dropped branch from the ground, I gave it all my force. When the wood linked with his arm knocked the knife out of his fingers, he hardly flinched. He was trained, toughened — not at all like the guys we had dealt with before.
“Run, Becky!” She did not move in response to my yell. She stopped dead, dread widening her eyes, and I knew she was terrified. I turned away and let this man approach her. Not going through what we have experienced.
The hitman smirked, recovered quickly, and threw a punch, sending me staggering back. Though I stood on my feet and wouldn't back off, my jaw hurt. Returning to me faster this time, his fists
