Wyatt doesn't respond. He wouldn't have been able to even if he'd had the inclination. The first blow ripped the air from his lungs, the second echoed through his chest, the pain like fire.

He was not going to survive this. The realization came in a burst of clarity as his heart stuttered beneath his ribs.

And that was all right. Would be just fine... if he could take this bastard down with him.

He let the attack rain over him, let the gloved hands wind around his throat - and then struck back, the blade of his knife disappearing into the man's side.