Chapter 18 Never Again
Chapter eighteen
Never Again
Colin Carr was not an impressive man.
Jon put him at about five-eleven, with a moderate build beneath the oversized clothing.
The man had dirty blond, unkempt hair in desperate need of a cut, as it hung at least to his chin, and blue eyes that were dark in the way that revealed the emptiness inside.
He looked exactly like the kind of man who would be lurking outside a woman’s apartment.
Jon’s fists clenched tighter at his sides. Never again. “Colin!”
The man who’d spared him half a glance when he’d rounded the corner of Jenna’s building snapped fully around, a new rock held in one hand. “Who the fuck are you?”
Jon strode forward. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m the Grim fucking Reaper.
” There were certain people in government who would put two and two together if they ever heard of the broken, dehydrated corpse that may someday be unearthed within a reasonable afternoon’s drive of Jon’s hometown.
Particularly if the corpse were ever identified.
But those same people had too often taken advantage of his unique skillset in the past. They didn’t worry him.
Letting the abusive piece of shit who’d stalked Jenna across state lines see another sunset? That bothered him.
Colin finally seemed to judge Jon as a threat, so he hurled the baseball-sized rock in Jon’s direction and shuffled backward. “Piss off while you have the chance, boy toy,” he called, like he thought he was tough.
Jon rolled his upper body to the side, letting the rock sail by, and continued forward. “You should’ve done yourself a favor and let your Prison Daddy shank you.”
Colin stopped moving, his eyes going wide for a beat before the anger reddened his face. “The fuck did you say? What the fuck are you even—”
Jon kicked his lips up in a taunting smirk. “C’mon, we both know you were the bitch.” He paused to let that hang. “Hell, you probably weren’t even the main bitch.”
Colin’s nostril’s flared as he huffed, every piece of visible skin turning an unhealthy shade of red.
He reached into his too large coat and pulled out a switchblade, flipping it open without looking away.
“You smug motherfucker,” he snarled, “think you can talk to me like that? After I let you spend all night between my whore wife’s legs? ”
Jon let his smirk fall. “You’re the one who shouldn’t be running his mouth.”
Colin lunged at Jon with a rageful yell, throwing his blade forward in a violent stabbing motion. The technique was rough. He was obviously used to overwhelming his opponents—his victims—with intimidation and fear more than actual skill.
Sucked for him.
Jon stepped forward, his body moving on instinct as he killed Colin’s charge, caught and twisted the man’s arm.
In a couple of seconds, he had one hand over Colin’s sleeved wrist and the other wrapped around his throat, cutting off the bastard’s air supply as he sank Colin’s own knife into his spine.
With Colin’s hand still gripping the handle.
Colin jerked sharply once and his throat strained, a wheezing sound escaping as he tried to scream like the bitch he was.
Jon pushed the paralyzed bastard to his knees and leaned close, speaking into his ear. “You saw me run out to my truck this morning, didn’t you, fucking stalker?”
Colin swallowed hard and Jon took that as confirmation.
“Did you pay any damn attention to the ink on my chest? How the fuck did you think this would go, Carr?” He released his double grip without warning, taking a single step back and allowing the bastard to crash to his face.
Colin’s arm flopped to his side and he made a gurgled, pained sound.
Jon hooked his booted toe beneath the man’s torso and rolled him over, letting Colin’s weight land on the knife still in his back.
He watched Colin’s eyes bulge and his lips tremble, chest heaving, as he fought the next outcry.
Blood bubbled past Colin’s lips as the man coughed.
When he made no attempt to speak, Jon rested a boot on Colin’s chest—above where the knife was stabbing into his spine—and leaned forward.
“Jenna was never yours. Not really. And you will never lay eyes on her again, you overgrown piece of shit.”
Colin had enough coherence left in him to find anger, apparently, because his brow creased and his bloodied lips drew back in what might have been a snarl. He opened his mouth.
“No,” Jon said, standing upright and holding out one hand.
“You’ve said enough.” He looked Colin in the eye as he reached inside the man and took control of every piece of him which identified as water.
And because he wanted it to hurt, at least for a few seconds, he pulled it all up and out in arguably the most disgusting way possible—through the bastard’s vile mouth.
It wouldn’t be near enough suffering to balance the trauma and literal pain he’d caused. But it would have to be sufficient.
Jon glared down at the dried husk of a corpse that remained when he was done and gave the nearest leg a kick. “Bastard.”
“So he was.”
Jon jerked at the unexpected voice, low and male and entirely unfamiliar.
He twisted sideways, putting the source in front of him, and balked.
How in the fuck did I not notice this guy?
Sure, the buildings and the thick foliage made some dark shadows no matter what time of day, but Jon knew the difference between a shadow and a living person.
And this stranger had undoubtedly just seen him kill Jenna’s ex. Fucking great.
The unfamiliar male moved forward, not seeming bothered by Jon or the husk that had so recently been a human. It was hard to see his movement, as if the shadows moved with him.
Jon scowled but held his position. “Who’re you?”
The man lifted his head to meet Jon’s stare, dark, swirling gray eyes set in pale skin beneath a head of long, black hair. But even looking at him, Jon wasn’t prepared for his answer. “The Grim fucking Reaper,” he replied.
Jon blinked. That was just about the last place or way he would have expected his own taunt to be thrown back at him.
The figure in black held a gloved hand over the husk and shadowy bands hooked around it, pulling it down as if into the earth.
“Apparently today I’m also an errand boy.
” The mess of life fluids Jon had been holding suspended seemed to vanish without a trace and the mysterious man turned, literally disappearing into the darkness.
For five seconds, Jon held perfectly still.
Nothing else moved. He looked back down at the spot in the dirt where Carr’s body should have been, but there wasn’t a trace.
There were only a couple of scuff marks from their non-fight, and Jon easily spotted an open, freshly exposed area of earth that about matched the size of the damn rock that had come through Jenna’s window. But that was it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, so he reached for it in case it was one of the people he’d contacted that morning. It wasn’t. It was a text from an unknown sender.
I got a good giggle from what you said, so I called in a favor. You’re welcome. ~ Ella
Jon stared at the screen as something Lance had said replayed in his memory.
“Crazy Ella tried telling me she was a goddess.”
Shit. He was supposed to factor actual gods into the equation now, too?
His phone buzzed and another text popped up on the screen.
Enough with the ‘Crazy Ella’ thing, okay? Yes, I’m a goddess, get over it. Don’t make me have Fenn bring back that asshole’s corpse. (btw, ew!)
Who the fuck is Fenn?
Grim Reaper. Keep up!
I need to go back to bed. Jon gave his head a shake and tucked his phone away. The weirdness didn’t matter in the long-run. Not as long as Colin Carr was gone and permanently out of Jenna’s life.
He stepped up to the exterior of the shattered window, as if seeing it from the outside would change the reality. Because he didn’t quite know how they were going to explain this to her elderly landlady.
The sound of an approaching vehicle sharpened Jon’s attention, so he turned and strode around to the front in time to see one of his least expected, least desired sights. A Leeland County Sheriff’s SUV had rolled to a stop at the curb just beyond Jon’s truck. Shit.
Worried about Jenna’s state of mind, Jon spun on his heel and jogged for the front door.
“Jen,” he called as soon as he stepped in.
He hurried down the hall, but she met him at the edge of the kitchen as she ran into his arms. He folded his arms around her, holding her tight and kissing her hair.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s over. He can’t hurt you anymore. ”
She sucked in hard breaths, obviously emotional. “I heard— Did you— Are you—”
He kissed her temple. “I’m sorry I even let him speak, baby.
Yes, I did. And no, I’m not. It’s all done.
” And he wished he could give her more than ten seconds to process that.
Goddamn Parker. He eased back and wiped his thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks, keeping his voice low.
“The sheriff’s department just pulled up, so someone must have been in the area when that asshole started shouting. ”
Jenna paled, her eyes going wide with visible fear.
“Breathe, baby,” he said quickly. “Weird shit happened. The body’s gone. All I need you to do is play along, okay? The rock came through the window, scared you out of your mind, you’re still shaken up. Can you do that?”
“It’s gone…?”
A knock sounded from the front door Jon had purposely left ajar and Jon tugged her in for one quick, hopefully reassuring, kiss.
“Sheriff’s department!” a male voice called from the doorway. A male voice that did not sound like Drew Parker. Though, Parker probably wouldn’t have knocked, either.
Jon met Jenna’s eyes one more time before tucking her up beneath his chin, still tight in his arms and hers around him, and projected his voice. “Kitchen!”