Free Live and Let Love by Gina Robinson

gavel. “Con, it’s official—you’re dancing! The rest of you boys,
     get on up here.”
    Shane handed his drink to Willow. “Hang on to this for me. I’ll be back for a victory
     drink.”
    Con, Shane, Bob, and the two others made their way to the front of the podium, looking
     sheepish and uncomfortable.
    “There are only a few rules,” Lettie said when they were assembled. “No intentionally
     bad dancing. Some of you may not be light on your feet, but you’re going to have to
     try. This is for charity and we expect you men to fight to win.
    “If our judge taps you, you’re out. The decision of the judge is final. No arguing.
     Got it?”
    The men pretended to grumble but nodded their agreement.
    “Good. Unlike the men last year”—Lettie gave Bob a stern look that got a good laugh—”who
     gave no instructions to the ladies, we women have risen above and brought in an expert
     to show you boys how it’s done. Our very own Nora Renner has taught country line dancing
     for twenty years. Follow her and you shouldn’t have any problems.
    “Where’s Roger, our disc jockey?” Lettie looked around. “There he is.” Lettie smiled
     at him. “Nora? Ready?”
    Nora stepped out to the front of the crowd and took a small bow.
    “Take it away.” Lettie clapped and stepped away from the podium.
    *   *   *
    Jack loved to dance. Yeah, it was a bit embarrassing to be a big, bad assassin who
     liked to trip the light fantastic. But what could he say? He considered dancing an
     athletic endeavor. He felt Willow watching him as Nora gave the men brief lessons
     on how to dance the tush push, Cotton Eyed Joe, and the Cowboy Boogie. Jack didn’t
     need lessons, but Con probably did.
    The men lined up, Jack and Bob in the front row and the three others in the back,
     with Nora at the front, back to them, calling out steps and leading.
    Jack was debating whether he should throw the competition and get out when a blow
     to the back of his right knee with a steel-toed boot from behind took his breath away
     and nearly felled him. His leg immediately went numb.
    Damn, Jack thought, fighting to stay on his feet. A direct hit to gallbladder point 31.
    There are points on the body that if struck properly can kill a person instantly.
     Striking others, like gallbladder point 31, causes temporary paralysis. As a karate
     expert, Jack knew them all. Unfortunately, so did his opponent.
    It took a master to hit 31 with paralyzing precision. And an expert to stay on his
     feet once struck. The Rooster had caught Jack off guard. This time.
    Game on, Jack thought, resisting the urge to fight back and wishing he weren’t under orders
     not to assassinate in public. So the Rooster was trying to draw him out before a crowd,
     was he?
    Jack preferred a good, fair fight. Which was one reason he’d spiked the Rooster’s
     drink. Any minute now that XTC would start taking effect. Then it would be game over
     for the Rooster.
    While Jack waited for his drug to do its magic, there was only one sure way to live
     through the evening—swallow his pride and get out of this damned dance-off. He pointed
     to his newly bum leg and limped toward the sidelines, imploring the judge, a local
     woman, a friend of Lettie’s whose name he didn’t know, “Hey, I’m about to die in here.”
    The crowd booed and yelled at him to stay in.
    “Con Russo!” Lettie’s stern voice boomed like the wrath of God over the loudspeakers.
     Or, more accurately, like his angry mother’s. “Stop hamming it up and trying to worm
     your way out of dancing. That was just a light tap. No more being a baby. The men
     in this town do not wimp out.” She shook her head condemningly. “Do I have to repeat
     the rules? No intentionally bad dancing. This is a fight to the death.”
    She didn’t know how accurate she was.
    Lettie held the mic close. “Now man up! Get back in there, and stay in, until the
     judge tells you to get out.”
    Man up? That was a