Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Tyrone is on his tiptoes from Jaxon’s grip, gasping and clawing at Jaxon’s forearm. I’m sure he’d be begging for release if Jaxon’s hand wasn’t such a vise on his throat.
“Jax.” I place my hand on his shoulder, squeeze down softly. “If you kill him, what about us? What about our future?”
Sirens sound in the distance, seeming to get closer. I mutter a silent prayer that they somehow know we’re here and they’re going to help us, but of course, that’s impossible. They have no way of knowing.
“Hear that?” Jaxon snaps. “They’re coming for you, big man.”
Finally, Jaxon releases his grip, stepping back.
Tyrone collapses onto the ground and pulls in raw sounding breaths, rubbing at the redness on his neck, staring up wide-eyed. He looks terrified, nothing like the wannabe tough guy he was only minutes ago.
“How?” I whisper when Jaxon’s words finally hit me.
“There’s a secret button in the car,” he explains, talking to me but keeping his fury-filled eyes pinned on Tyrone. “They’re tracking our GPS. They’ll be here soon to arrest this motherfucker.”
“Goddamn.” Tyrone laughs disjointedly, his head falling back and his glassy eyes staring up at us. “I didn’t expect that. Got to give it to you, girly. You surprised the hell out of me—”
“Shut up,” Jaxon snarls. “I should put you in the ground for what you tried to do to her.”
“I’m sorry,” Tyrone whimpers, staring at me, his lips shuddering.
Even if I know what this man did and what he was going to do, an absurd sense of pity touches me. He looks so pathetic, slumped on the ground, like a confused little kid.
But it’s an act.
I’m under no delusions about what he’d do if he somehow got hold of the gun again.
“You think sorry’s good enough?” Jaxon takes a step forward, his leg twitching like he’s debating kneeing him in the head. “You’re lucky I’m not a lowlife piece of shit like you. Imagine what potion you’d be right now if I were like you.”
“Sorry,” he groans, raising his hands to cover his face. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have done it. Any of that stuff.”
“You were already a fucking monster for what you did.” Jaxon clenches and unclenches his fists like he’s debating doing more damage. “But threatening my woman, talking about her like she’s dirt… I hope you rot in whatever cell you end up in.”
The sirens get louder and louder, homing in on us.
Jaxon glances at me, his eyes softening… but only for a moment, only when our gazes clash. He silently tells me it’s all going to be okay. He’s going to protect me. That his words weren’t just empty promises in a land filled with rose petals.
But his expression becomes grim when he returns his gaze to Tyrone.
“I’m guessing that gun’s illegal. So that’s strike one. And let’s not forget about kidnapping, attempted rape… you’re going to be going away for a long, long, long-ass time.”
Tyrone bows his head, not even trying to fight, as the sirens get closer and closer.
A few hours later we’re in Jaxon’s apartment.
We came here after giving our statements to the police, going over and over the events to make sure we were being completely accurate, and giving the police as much useful information as we could.
It’s just past midnight and we’re sitting on Jaxon’s couch, the lamp is on but the main light is off, giving it an atmospheric glow. His apartment is sleek and modern, the floor hardwood, the ceilings tall with exposed rafters. Even with the heat purring softly, I feel cold, or maybe that’s just an excuse to stay as close to Jaxon as possible.
“I was so scared,” he says softly, pulling me deeper into a hug. “I thought he was going to take you, and I couldn’t stand that. Jessie, I’ll never let anything happen to you. I swear it.”
We’ve been like this for a while, my legs curled beneath me, my cheek resting against his solid chest.
The firmness of his heartbeat tells me it’s all going to be okay. We don’t have to worry. No matter what happens, he’ll keep us – me, our children, our lives – safe.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It was the only thing I could think to do. I just started thinking about what would happen if he killed one of us. If he separated us, and we weren’t able to live that life… that beautiful life we talked about.”
“Hush.” He kisses my forehead gently, a stark contrast to the animal he became to defend me. “I understand. I can’t say I wasn’t surprised though. Not such a shy little thing anymore, huh?”
I giggle at his light teasing. It’s the first time either of us has laughed since the showdown in the street, and it spreads to him until both of us are laughing like fools.