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Soften him up, Vince’s calm voice said in my head.
Tossing my purse aside, I kicked Troy in the shin as hard as I could without falling.
“Argh!” he cried out, bowing with the unexpected pain, but he still held my arm. “What the f**k!”
He drew back his other hand for a backhanded slap but, already moving, I ducked lower and barely felt the contact. Vince was right. My hands were sweaty and slippery, and they were smaller than Troy’s. But they still managed to seize his hand and peel his fingers from me, twisting and pressing down on his wrist.
Troy cried out again, pulling and rotating his arm to ease the pain. Still gripping his hand, I pressed his upper arm toward the ground, and the rest of him followed. But his elbow kept flailing and I lost my balance trying to control him. Tro
