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Jack laughed, actually laughed, and leaned against one of the cars. “That’s cute.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Good, we both see eye to eye, then,” I smiled. “So, easy way or hard way?”

Jack shook his head, stepped closer and looked over my shoulder. “Hey

, Jenni, can you tell your friend here to mind his own business,” he said. He looked me in the eye as he continued, “He might get himself hurt.”

I didn’t turn around, and silently cursed the fact that Jenni hadn’t stayed in the car. If things got messy, I didn’t want her close to the action where this dimwit could take advantage of her presence and use her against me.

“Kent’s really not the kind of place where you want to use a threat like that,” I said. “I mean, are you going to beat me with one of those flamingos?”

“No,” Jack said, pulling a switchblade out of his pocket and flipping the blade open. “Turn around and walk away.”

“You’re threatening a DEA agent, you know that, right?”

Jack smiled. “I said, walk away.”

I glanced down at the blade, then back at Jack. He was feeling big, confident that he was in charge of the situation. The fact that he had the audacity to even pull the blade out in the first place made my blood boil. It was one thing to not care about the local, small town authority, but it took a completely different level of ‘idiot’ to actually threaten an officer with a weapon. The smirk on his face didn’t help, either. It made me wonder just how much pull Heath and his friends had in Kent.

“I’d put that away, if I were you,” I said, the jovial tone in my voice gone now, my firsts curling.

Jack waved at me with the knife, gesturing for me to keep moving, his smug smile making matters worse. “Get moving before I decide to use this,” he said.

Without thinking twice, my hand shot out, almost as if by instinct. I grabbed his wrist, twisted hard, and pushed him against the car. He cried out in pain as the knife fell from his grip and clattered against the asphalt.

He threw a fist at me. I dodged, let go of his hand and threw one of my own, feeling a sharp pain in my knuckles as they connected with his jaw.

Jack’s head snapped to a side and he fell to one knee, the blow taking him as much by surprise as the speed of his disarming.

The bastard was quick, though. He jumped at me, wrapping his arms around my waist and slamming me into the other car, immediately kneeing me in the side as he threw one punch after the other.

I blocked most of them, one or two getting past my defenses. I felt my head rattle, and steeled myself against his flurry of punches. As soon as I found an opening, I grabbed him by the wrist, twisted his arm, and brought my elbow down against his, bending it out of place.

I heard the snap of his joints and the satisfying shrill scream of pain that followed. Not letting go, I kicked him in the back of his knee, brought him down, and slammed his face against the car door.

“Alex!”

The whole thing had probably taken a few seconds. Jenni was pulling at my arm and trying to drag me away. Jack was coughing, blood oozing out of his nose, and he looked up at me with rage.

“You’re dead, man!”

I pulled out of Jenni’s grip, grabbed Jack by the collar and heaved him onto his feet. I grabbed his arm, applying as much pressure as I could to his broken elbow, and he screamed in pain.

“Watch it,” I warned, hissing the threat between clenched teeth.

He squirmed, tried to kick out, but the effort was weak. I punched him again and let him drop to the ground in a heap, his head rolling to a side as he wheezed through his broken nose. Jenni pulled at me again.

“That’s enough, Alex,” she was saying. “I think he’s gotten the point.”

I looked around. A small crowd had gathered around us from the coffee shop, eyes wide, some holding their cellphones and filming everything. I let Jenni drag me away and back to the car.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she shot.

“You’re kidding, right?” I shot back. “We have to get this guy to the Sheriff.”

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