I kneed him between the legs. With a high-pitched groan, the pirate dropped his sword and collapsed to the floor, where I then kicked him in the jaw. He flew backwards, blood trickling from his lip. The pirate whirled his bloodshot eyes on me, raised his legs, and shoved me back into the chairs. My hanger fell from my hand, clattering to the floor. Cracking wood echoed like thunder while several chairs broke under my weight. One leg of a chair ripped through my nightgown millimeters from my thigh. The pirate grinned and kicked my hanger toward a table filled with clockwork pieces. He raised his cutlass, about to plunge his blade into my breast, when I spied Tucker hobbling in.
“Tucker, fetch,” I called.
Tucker’s big brown eyes focused on the pirate’s wooden leg, and the little dog bounded toward it; his tongue hanging out while he panted in excitement. “No, No, No,” the pirate shouted when Tucker’s mouth grasped his leg. “Bad dog. Bad dog.”
Tucker snarled, dragging the squat man across the dusty floor until the leg finally popped off. Pushing himself up, the pirate hopped on his one leg to glare down at the smiling corgi. Taking the opportunity, I carefully slipped from the rubble of the broken chair and stepped up behind the man.
“I guess you’re just someone he can sink his teeth into.” I sniggered, then sent my fist right into his jaw. He twisted and fell back, tripping over Tucker, who yelped. He ran behind my legs while the pirate crashed onto the table of finished works. The table broke in half, letting all my stock slide on top of his head one by one. With a muffled shriek, the man fell unconscious under the mound. I slowly walked up to him and kicked his foot, just to be sure.
He didn’t move.