Chapter 38 #2
“Jack?”
What? Why is he here?
He lunges for me without responding. A cry tears from my throat as I fall short of escaping him. Dots form in my vision and my equilibrium twists when my forehead hits the edge of the marble bench. I kick my leg back as I go down, and it finds purchase with something I can’t make out.
Fear pushes me to keep moving even though I can’t see straight. My glasses fall from my face, and the world becomes even blurrier. I can just make out the shapes of various items on the countertop, and I grab the first thing I can reach.
“Blackmailing me wasn’t enough?” I cry, throwing the glass at Jack.
The sound of shattering makes me reach for the next solid thing I can find, and the ensuing whack of the pan hitting his head only makes me feel victorious for half a second before he snatches it from my grip, stumbling toward me.
“Blackmail?”
I don’t question why he sounds genuinely confused. I run.
I aim for the ranch slider into the backyard, but he moves faster than me, blocking my path, so I’m forced to take the stairs up to the second story where all the other bedrooms are.
A gloved hand wraps around my ankle and yanks. My ribs hit the harsh edge of the wooden step, winding me. But my body is operating on pure fear and reflex. Both of my legs kick out to dislodge his grip, and I manage to nail my heel straight into his groin.
“You bitch,” he snarls, buckling over.
Jack wheezes, trying to reach for me again, but his knees give out, and that’s my sign to run, taking the steps two at a time. The warmth trickling from the throbbing in my forehead only pushes me harder.
I have no plan in mind, and I have to replay every single fucking kidnapping movie I can remember to escape this.
Fuck. I’m fucked. I’m so, so fucked. I scream for help again, shutting every room’s door I come across before hiding beneath the bed of one of the bedrooms, locking it behind me.
My pulse roars in my ears, louder than the thunder of his boots against the wooden upstairs floor. Tears burn my eyes, falling with each door he throws open. I clamp my hand over my mouth to stop myself from making a sound just as my room becomes his next target.
“You think you can fucking trick me?” He sounds like the personification of death and rage as he tries the door.
It rattles.
The lock is holding for now.
He slams his fist on the door, and I jolt, hoping and praying he didn’t hear.
I have nothing after this. No plan. No hope. I can see his boots right outside from the sliver of space beneath the door.
There’s no way I can get past him, and I don’t like my chances of being able to get this window open and climb out of it before he breaks down the door. I’m trapped. He’s going to kill me, or worse.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why didn’t I think this through?
“You’ve fucked everything up,” he booms, pacing the hallway.
“I told you—I warned him—that you weren’t good enough.
You’d ruin his life, and I was right. He’s too blind when it comes to women and people he thinks are his friends.
” He sneers the word. “No one has his best interests at heart, and someone has to look out for him.”
Jack tries the door handle again. It’s a taunt. We both know he has the strength to bulldoze in if he wants.
My entire body trembles as I focus on his steps, prowling up and down the hall, up and down, up and down. I keep waiting for him to break into this room and find me cowering beneath the bed, but he doesn’t, rattling the handle over and over.
Tears stream over my fingers and soak my hair, plastering the strands to my sticky face. What does he want? For me to be out of the picture? To get revenge for something?
“I didn’t get him traded to play for the Serpents just for you to screw it all up.” He hits the doorframe again, and I narrowly stop myself from making a noise. “He’d get so much further in life without people like you holding him back.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to blink away the tears because I can’t fucking see anything. My vision is too blurry, and it’s too dark to make out his precise location when he’s not directly in front of my door, so I’m forced to go off sound alone.
He’s planning on taking me out of the picture so he can, what? Keep Leo to himself? Convince Leo that they should become friends again?
Jack is more fucked up than Leo and I combined if he thinks any of what he’s doing is ever going to make Leo forgive him.
“I’m the only person who’s ever been there for him—I’ve always been there for him.
Time and time again, I’ve forgiven him for taking my friendship for granted because I know the people around him are trying to blind him.
” He scoffs. “If he’s going to be un-fucking-grateful for what I do for him, then I have a resolution to get my fucking fair share. ”
My blood runs cold. Is he saying that he’d . . . ? No, no. That can’t be right.
Jack would never—he’s obsessed with Leo. There’s no way.
I hear him throw himself against the door. “Open up right fucking now or I—”
The sound of the front door opening has the world stilling. I can just make out the silhouette of Jack’s feet turning toward the stairs.
“Mina?”
Leo.
Oh God, Jack might kill him.
“Help!” I scream, giving away my location.
Jack curses and barges into my room. I scream at the top of my lungs as his hand finds purchase around my calf. My grip locks onto the bed frame, and it groans against the floor as Jack yanks on my leg, and I try everything I can to kick him off.
I think I hear Leo yell my name as he bounds up the stairs, and I put everything I have into pulling my body back beneath the bed.
The sound of Leo’s arrival is coupled with a dark blur of movement, and the iron grip on my leg disappears. The noises that follow can only be described as carnage.