Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My vision blurs with killer intent the second I lay eyes on him. Jackson stands there in the cold, feet planted in the driveway, several steps in front of my woman, Peter, and a girl I'm assuming is fuckhead's wife. They're all huddled on the porch, watching in horror.
“Been a long time, asshole. Can't believe I thought you were done shitting up my life that day we had our fun at the parade. Here you are years later. Just as big a psycho freak as you were then.” Jackson takes another step toward me, hatred simmering in his eyes. “Let my mother go.”
“Jackson, no! Stay back!” Stephanie throws her hands out and nearly slips on the ice. I have to fight to catch her, pin her to my chest, taking frail beats from her elbows square on my shoulders. “Just tell him for me, Marshal. Tell him you're helping! For God's sake –“
“It's a family situation, Mrs. Kelley. Please understand.” Christ, those words taste like poison on my lips. “Listen to your son. Go back inside. Work this out and don't worry about me. They're trying to help.”
She spins out of my grasp, betrayal written in the deep grooves on her face. “But...but...you're my muse. The only thing that's let me finish a canvass in years.”
I close my eyes. “I know. And I'm sorry. Please, Mrs. Kelley, Mia's in the truck. I don't want this getting too crazy while we're right in front of her.”
I'm hoping she's sane enough to honor the plea for my little girl's sake. She drops out of my arms. Jackson runs forward, motioning behind him to Sadie and Peter, who come up and take the defeated woman from my grasp. I watch Peter help his shattered wife back inside. The door to the house slams shut, leaving us out here alone.
“Let me know when you're done,” I tell Red, looking through my enemy. I want to be out of here more than I've ever wished for anything. “I'll be in the truck.”
I turn, ready to walk the five steps back, but a vicious hand wraps around my wrist. I hear his demon voice in my ear, and red overtakes my vision. “Oh, no, asshole. Not that easy. I'm pressing charges.”
“Charges?” The word is a tripped landmine in my throat. “You've got to be fucking kidding.”
I rip my hand out of his grip, so fierce it rocks him back. Skidding on the ice just makes his ugly smirk worse. It's taking every fiber of discipline I own not to knock him over and slam his head into the ice until it resembles ground beef.
“No, Captain Howard, I'm serious. I'd be a fool to let any man who comes here threatening my family walk away.”
Breathe, breathe, just fucking breathe, I tell myself. It's easier looking at him than forcing back the pure unadulterated violence struggling to get out.
“No time for this. I need to bring my daughter home. Do what you have to, dick.”
“Jackson!” It's Red's voice, pained, just as I'm starting to turn. “Wait, put the phone down, you can't do this!”
She's tugging frantically at her brother's arm. He gives her a death look. Goddamn, the urge to punch him square in the face just got ten times stronger.
I look back, wrestling every instinct to step in. If he hurts her...
“Get off me, sis! You don't understand.”
“You don't, idiot! We're engaged. I can't let you call the cops, can't let you hurt him.”
“Engaged?” His face goes pale for a second as the cold truth sets in.
Then his lip curls back. He pushes her away. Hard.
Red spins across the ice, a snowbank to the side barely breaking her fall, ass-first.
No, he fucking didn't.
No damn more!
The kinder, gentler man I've become should be at her side, helping her up, ushering her into the truck so we can leave this cursed place. That's not who I am once I'm lunging at her idiot brother, grabbing him by the throat, slamming him down as hard as I can face first.
“Marshal, no, don't!” Red bolts up, surprisingly graceful for a woman who's just been knocked off balance. “Don't do this. Please don't hurt him.”
Her voice. Every pleading word seeps into my soul, and for a second, it freezes the beast that's taken over. The one that's so ready to slam him into the ice again, and this time there will be brain damage.
“You touch her again, you hurt her, you're dead,” I snarl, holding him at eye level by the hair. There's a bruise forming on his forehead.
I get up, making room for the other woman to rush over, hands over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and full of tears. I can't feel the guilt as his wife stoops over him, helping him struggle up on his knees, his cruel eyes following me.