Free Full Force Fatherhood by Tyler Anne Snell Page A

his voice to a level he hoped was pure threat. The man wasn’t showing any signs of fear. He moved the knife to his other hand.
    â€œâ€˜Drop me,’ eh? Been watching a lot of cop shows, haven’t you?”
    â€œCan’t say I’m the only one,” Mark bit out. “Looks like you’ve been taking pointers from some lowlifes. I’d rather be the cop than the thief.”
    The man chuckled.
    â€œI may be stealing something, but I’m no thief,” he responded, starting to move slowly around the couch. Mark was surprised he was coming closer rather than trying to flee. He had no way of knowing there was no clip inside the gun. “But I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
    Later Mark would be able to look back and realize that the small smile that brought up the corner of the man’s lips right after he spoke was the exact moment he knew that the man was dangerous. That, without a doubt, the intruder was an immediate threat not only to Mark but also to the women in the house.
    But in the moment, he felt his body act of its own accord.
    He threw the gun at the man with all the strength he had. Clearly surprised, the intruder didn’t duck out of the way. The gun hit his shoulder hard. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground.
    Mark didn’t hesitate.

Chapter Eight
    The two men hit the far wall with enough force that Mark heard the man’s breath push out. Mark wanted to get the man away from his weapon and subdue him. Tackling him into a wall seemed to be the best of both worlds.
    However, it was Mark’s turn to be surprised.
    The man might have lost his breath, but he hadn’t lost his fighting skills. He brought up his fist and gave Mark a good right hook. Pain burst behind his eye just as the man brought his foot right on top of Mark’s instep. The combination made him waver enough that the intruder was able to push Mark backward into the couch.
    â€œIs that it, bodyguard?”
    How had he known Mark was a bodyguard? Ex or otherwise?
    Mark balled his fists and brought his feet apart just in time for the intruder to lunge forward.
    He swung high. Mark ducked low.
    They went through another flurry of fists before the man threw a punch that landed so close to Mark’s face that he lost his balance trying to dodge it. The intruder used the gap in defense to his advantage. He threw his shoulder into Mark’s chest, and together they toppled over the couch.
    Mark’s head hit the coffee table, dazing him. The intruder pushed off him and made a run for his knife, lying a few feet from them.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Mark hissed, scrambling to grab the man. He wasn’t fast enough. The man picked up his weapon. He turned so fast that Mark froze.
    â€œI’m no thief, but I don’t mind fighting,” the man said, brandishing the too-large knife.
    Mark was so close that if the man jumped forward, he’d slice him with ease. Images of the three ladies in the bedroom flashed behind his eyes. He needed to get that knife away from the man, no matter what.
    Just as he was gearing up to grab the man’s wrist, something small flew over his shoulder. It hit the intruder’s nose. He yelled in pain. Mark used the opening to grab the man’s wrist and bend it backward. The knife once again dropped to the ground. Mark didn’t waste time in retrieving it.
    â€œDon’t move,” Mark ground out, knife in hand. The man’s eyes—dark, Mark couldn’t tell what color—darted from the weapon to a space over Mark’s shoulder. Without another comment, he turned and ran back into the office. Mark tried to catch him but the man was fast.
    He jumped through the window he’d broken and disappeared into the stormy night.
    Mark wanted to follow him—to catch him—but a sound behind him drew his attention away.
    Kelli stood in the living room doorway, eyes wide.
    â€œI found the clip,”