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“You had a flashback...didn’t you?” Jack asked in a tortured voice. “I knew this would happen. Fuck. Fuck!” he yelled. He wiped at his eyes angrily, before staring down at me.
“Someone was...someone was hurting me,” I whispered.”"They were about to—I think they were about to...” A hitched sob escaped from my mouth as Jack sank to his knees in front of me.
“I’m so sorry,” he said in a strange, flat voice. “I’m so sorry.”
There was a savage snarl, and a second later Frank was ripped off me, his body thrown to the floor with a loud crash that reverberated around the room. I scrambled to my feet, pulling at the scraps of my dress as I turned around and saw Jack straddling him.
Jack’s fists few at Frank’s face, his hands a blur of motion fueled by pure adrenaline and rage. His normally composed demeanor was replaced by a primal ferocity, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to unleash its fury.
The air crackled with violence, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the small room like a symphony of pain. There was a wildness in Jack’s eyes, a fire burning bright.
Frank’s fists were raised as he feebly tried to defend himself against Jack’s onslaught. But it was like trying to stop a hurricane with a cardboard box, futile and ultimately doomed to fail.
I watched in awe as Jack moved with a grace that belied the brutality of his actions, each strike landing with precision andpurpose. There was no hesitation in his movements, no mercy in his gaze, only a relentless determination.
Jack’s hands wrapped around his throat. Frank struggled, his limbs wildly thrashing around as he tried to get out of his grip.
But Jack was a man in peak physical condition. Frank, with his years of booze and drugs...he didn’t stand a chance.
The air was heavy with the sound of choking, his gasps for air mixing with the sickening sound of flesh against flesh as Jack’s grip tightened with each passing moment. A garbled sound was coming from his lips as he tried to beg for Jack to stop.
I should have been horrified. I should have told him to stop. But instead I watched in calm satisfaction as life slowly began to fade from Frank’s gaze, replaced by a vacant emptiness that I would remember for the rest of my life, the memory of it like a scar that would never heal.
That I would never want to heal.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Jack released his grip on Frank’s throat and stood up, Frank’s body slumping to the ground in a motionless heap. The room was silent save for the sound of our ragged breathing, the aftermath of violence hanging thick in the air like fog.
Jack’s gaze met mine, the anger and ferociousness fading as we stared at each other.
“Kennedy,” he breathed as he threw himself at me, gathering me into his strong arms as I began to sob, my entire body shaking against him as it really hit me what had just happened.
I looked beyond him, a numbness settling into my veins as I stared at the dead body laying on the floor.
Jack had just killed him for me.
“Kennedy, baby. Are you—I mean fuck, of course you’re not okay. Fuck. Did he...?” He made a retching sound, like he was going to throw up.
I had thrown up in the past after he’d—it was hard to even think the words.
But something had settled in my chest as soon as the last breath had left that asshole’s body. The man who had been torturing me since almost the moment my mother had brought him home...he was gone.
“Kennedy, say something,” he breathed, his voice breaking as he tilted my head back so he could stare at my face.
“You killed him,” I whispered.
A savage look crossed his features. “I should have given him a much more painful death.” He cursed. “You’re terrified of me, aren’t you? Fuck. I should have taken him outside, I?—”
I slammed my lips against his, trying to put every ounce of my thankfulness and love into that kiss.
His tongue slid into my mouth and I moaned as my hands tangled in his hair. I wanted him. I wanted to show him just how much I loved him.
“Fuck. Kennedy,” he said in between our frantic kisses. “I really love where this is going, pretty girl...and I definitely want to pick this up later…” I sucked lightly on his tongue, trying to catch every taste of him that I could. “Kennedy,” he growled. “I think I need to get rid of this body.” His lips danced down my neck and I pulled on his shirt, trying to get it off him...because I’d clearly lost my mind. “Baby. Seriously. I haven’t exactly...murdered someone before...but…” Another kiss. “I need to get this party started.”
“Yes, exactly. That’s what I’m trying to do. Get this started,” I breathed, barely recognizing myself. There was some strange, crazy energy surging through my veins.
Something buzzed between us and I cried out when Jack jerked himself away, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. He pulled the phone from his pocket. “It’s Greyson. He’ll know what to do…”
“Greyson knows what to do with a dead body?” I asked, confused. I mean I’d heard the stories about Greyson, but we’d never talked about it. Who heard of a high school hockey player that was in the freaking mafia?
