Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 94716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
My military career taught me to be resourceful in times of need. Hefting the weight of the chain in my hand, I decided this was one of the better weapons that I’d had the pleasure of using over the years. Could have been like that time I had to use a toilet brush.
Although that time it had worked out, I definitely wouldn’t be choosing it for a weapon ever again if I had the choice.
Click, click, click, click. The sound of expensive shoes hitting the concrete sounded from outside. The harsh staccato of footsteps echoed like gun shots, making my muscles tense in readiness.
“Jack?” Winter asked from beside me.
“Stay still.”
“Jack what-” She started but then quickly stopped as the door opened once again and Edward stood there with a sly smile coming over his face.
“Now, what did you think of my videos? They were cheaply made but-”
The chain interrupted what he was going to say when it whipped out of my grasp like a whip and struck him across the face. Blood spurted from his nose, and he went down like an anvil in a cartwheel motion, finally coming to rest against the opposite wall, moaning and clutching his broken face.
“Where’d you learn to do a thing like that?” Winter asked as she made a move to stand.
I caught her by the hips as she started to fall, and propped her up against the wall for support. “I watched a lot of Indiana Jones when I was a kid. Dad loved it. I was him for Halloween through the ages seven through eleven.” I joked.
What I didn’t want to discuss right now was how I became good at killing. It wasn’t something a woman needed to know, let alone my wife. Plus, I just plain didn’t want her to know. It’d be just one more black mark against me, and I wanted her to think I was a perfect gentleman, even if that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Making sure she wouldn’t fall, I left her there and went to Edward who’d rolled over onto his back, still clutching his nose with both hands.
Dropping down to a knee beside him, I looked into his eyes and made sure he read the warning that was there. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
“Fuck you.” He said just before trying to spit blood at me.
I ducked sideways as he sprayed it. He’d accomplished nothing, seeing as I was nearly a foot and a half away from the direction he aimed for. One could never be too careful though, especially when it came to blood and body fluids.
“Seeing double?” I asked cheerfully.
“I’ll never tell you anything. You can kiss any cooperation you want from me goodbye.” He coughed.
“That’s okay. I have your son for any information we need. You’re not the one I really want anyway. That son of yours though... well, he’s a different story.” I said as I bent down to search his pockets.
I came up with a phone, a key ring, and an electronic device that I refused to think about at the moment, a gun on his ankle, and a silver pocket knife. Palming the phone, I gave it a flick of my wrist so it spun and spun across the floor until it came to rest at Winter’s feet.
“Call Sam.” I said shortly.
Light murmurs followed the dialing of the phone, and I ignored them to better concentrate on the man lying on the floor. “Now, let’s see what kind of deal we can work out.” I said as I cracked my knuckles by making a fist.
***
Winter
“I think you might want to hurry.” I said quickly.
“We’re coming as fast as we can, honey.” Sam said softly.
“You may want to come faster. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure Jack’s going to murder him.” I said, wincing at the sound of Jack’s fist as it met the flesh of Edward’s face.
It wasn’t that I was bothered that he wanted to kill my supposed father; it was that I didn’t want Jack to have that on his conscience. He had enough to deal without me adding to it.
“We’re already here, but we want to make sure no one is gonna surprise us when we come in.” He explained gently.
He probably didn’t care in the least that my husband was about to kill my father. Not that they knew that juicy little fact yet. I didn’t feel like enlightening them either. Let the man suffer.
My inner bitch was showing, wasn’t it? Okay, maybe I should stop him before he kills him, and has to go to jail. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.
“Jack, do you think you could unhook me here? I have to pee.” I asked with a hint of pleading in my tone.
Really, I just didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted to go home. I wanted him to hold me, and tell me everything would be okay.
He didn’t let me go, but did toss me the key ring. “Leave the cuffs open. We’ll strap him down when I’m done.”
I nodded and got to work. The first three didn’t work, but four was the magic number. The lock clicked as it was released, and I tore my hand out of the cuff, scraping it on the metal as I went. Not that I cared. Being confined was bringing back horrid memories that I would rather not remember at all.
Movement in my peripheral made me look towards the door. The site of Peter, again, made me shrink back against the wall and cry out. “Jack!”
Zero hesitation.
One second Peter was standing with a gun pointed in Jack’s direction, and the next he was down with Edward’s knife in his throat, courtesy of Jack’s quick hand.
And just like that, the main character in my nightmare was dead. No threatening. No pleading. No fanfare. Jack took care of me, and he killed the man that haunted my dreams.
“Good riddance.” I whispered, then more loudly asked, “What are you, Rambo or something?”