Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
FIFTEEN MINUTES PRIOR
“I can’t believe you shot me, you asshole!
” Kane bellows from the fetal position he has curled into near the powder bathroom off the foyer.
I wasn’t sure where Kane had been shot or if he had survived the bullet wound, but his nasally mewling answered half of those questions.
Debbie Jo grabbed one of the hand towels from the powder room to hold against Kane’s bleeding wound.
“He is an asshole.” My verbal confirmation is instinctual, so I’m not expecting Rick’s boot.
I’m usually better at holding in my cries, but the guttural yelp escapes without thought, much to his delight.
It’s been months since he’s hit me, and despite years of conditioning to be prepared for his next blow, I had started to let my guard down in the last five months.
At least the kick—while still exceptionally painful—is to my left side and not my already injured and recovering right side.
I should maybe feel bad that Kane got shot, but he’s in cahoots with Rick, so my give a damn is busted.
“Shut the hell up and you’d do well to remember your place.
You can’t fucking do anything right, can you?
How hard was it to just do you job, sing, take your fat ass out on stage to perform like a fucking puppet, and keep the cash rolling in?
Huh? Huh?” Rick bends down and barks in my face.
“But no, you had to go and fuck everything up for me, didn’t you?
You selfish little bitch! I had everything I wanted, and you stole it all from me.
Like the greedy little whore you are, you had to go and run and spread your legs for Jack Callahan of all people. ”
Rick continues his tirade, bellowing in my face, but I tune him out as I make a decision.
These last five months with Jack have been everything, not just in building our relationship, but with the entire Callahan family.
One thing I’ve heard about over the years from Wells but had never really appreciated was how much the Callahan brothers valued martial arts.
When they discovered last month after a family dinner that I didn’t know how to throw a proper punch, they refused to let me leave Murphy’s house without being comfortable doing just that.
Jack’s trained at an advanced level in Muay Thai and has a some-impressive degree of black belt in Krav Maga, and I only know those details because I hoard any and all information about Jack Callahan—what can I say, some old habits die hard.
Their nieces even all practice karate at the local dojo and his brothers practice other arts, but I couldn’t say who has what belt color in karate or Jiu-Jitsu because it's never been my thing.
Or it wasn't anyway, until Savannah's seven-year-old daughter, Lucy—under the watchful eye of one grinning grandfather, close supervision of four extremely proud uncles, and the rest of the Callahan crew—taught me the proper way to throw a punch.
I’m going to regret this, I’m sure. But that vein is still throbbing, so I think there’s a good chance he might kill me anyway, and if that’s the case, I’m not going down without a fight.
Rick doesn’t expect me to fight him, and I may not get a second chance, but I won’t let Jack think I didn’t fight like hell to get back to him.
I promised him I would never walk away from him—and I’m pretty sure that includes being dragged away by this piece of shit.
Tucking my thumb to the underside of my fist like Lucy taught me, I shift ever so slightly on the floor to tuck my left elbow back to try and brace my side a bit as I move slowly to a sitting position, knowing this is going to hurt no matter what.
Once I feel stable enough to move my arm, and before he even can register what’s happening, I pull back and throw a perfect right hook into the bastard’s face, clocking him directly in the nose with a sickening yet satisfying crunch.
However, with my current location on the ground under him, I’m also unfortunately immediately sprayed with a spurt of blood from the asshole’s nose.
“What the fuck?” Rick roars as he shoots upright, grabbing his face.
“You broke my fucking nose!” With one hand still on the gun, his left hand is now holding his nose, partially covering his face.
I didn’t think he’d be able to kick me again so soon, but it looks like both of us were underestimating each other as one hard kick knocks me back into the fetal position on the ground, followed by three hard kicks to my back and likely to my kidneys.
I curl back into the all too familiar pose, knowing that I need to protect my head, but thankfully, Rick needs to tend to his wound before he can retaliate more.
And I’m sure there will be more pain to come, but I fought back and broke his nose.
I finally hit back.
No matter what happens, Jack has to know that I fought back.
“Oh, shit! Rick! I can’t believe you got hit by a girl!
” Kane, the apparently constant moron, laughs until he whines in pain while still lying on the floor.
“Serves you right for shooting me, you asshole! Do you know how much time I put into that relationship with Natasha? Over three fucking years, not counting the time it took until she finally bit on the leads I had out there. Debbie Jo, stop moving that towel, fuck. It hurts!”
“Do it yourself then, Kane.” Debbie Jo stands, dropping the towel on Kane.
“Dammit, Rick! You know, you getting punched by her feels like karma for fucking shooting your partner!” He continues to groan in pain, oblivious to the fact that his complaining is pissing Rick off more every time he opens his mouth—and to the fact that Debbie Jo has gone exceptionally still next to him.
“I didn’t even care who bit; I had so many targets out there.
I just needed someone in the inner circle at Lux in my pocket.
I thought it’d be easy after she responded to my message on the thriller and suspense reddit forum—hell, I thought she would be easy as soon as she opened her mouth. ”
“You two must’ve bonded over the fact that neither of you ever shut up, you imbecile.
You said she was an ace in your pocket. You’re the one that chose to pursue that, plus, with the promise of paying off her brother’s debt, you didn’t even have to string her along, so don’t fucking complain to me!
And you were fucking her anyway, so I’m sure it was a real chore.
” Rick still loosely has the gun pointed at me with his right hand as he tries to stop the blood flow with his left hand.
If he hadn’t kicked me in my back, I could try to make a run for it, but right now, I don’t think I would get very far.
My lower back is radiating pain, and I really hope he didn’t do any serious damage with those last kicks—they were really hard.
“You told me you didn’t sleep with her, Kane. What’s he talking about?” Debbie Jo slowly turns and stares down at Kane with rage radiating from her pores.
What the hell is going on?
“One time, babe, it was just one time. That’s all she’d do, and it was vanilla boring shit.
Then she said we were better off as friends.
Your brother said we needed to keep her close, and if we didn’t need her at some point, I would’ve stopped talking to her months ago.
Joke’s on me though, because the asshole I thought was my partner fucking shot me!
” Kane carries on whining at Rick about whoever this Natasha woman is.
Am I supposed to know that name? I don’t, and I have no idea what the hell they’re talking about.
I also don’t know how much blood Kane has to lose before he passes out, but hopefully that’s sooner than later.
As he continues his tantrum, I notice another family similarity between Rick and his sister—Debbie Jo has her own vein I’ve never seen before in her forehead, and it’s now throbbing and prominent.
His whining is exceptionally loud, but he’s keeping Rick’s attention and anger focused on him instead of me, so maybe it’s better if he doesn’t pass out or die quite yet.
“And is that your excuse for what we had, Kane? Did my brother tell you to string me along too? I am so sick of men thinking they can control me!” Debbie Jo stomps her feet like a petulant child as Kane’s attention is finally focused on the woman looming over him.
“No, babe, you misunderstood. She was just a pawn; you and I are the real thing. I did everything you asked for, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting …
well…” Kane’s face is looking exceptionally pale, but I don’t know if that’s because of the blood loss or because of the panicked looks he’s darting between Rick and his sister.
“Did you at least bring the one thing I told you to do?” Debbie Jo demands in a screech, raising her hands in frustration—but like a switch is flipped, she glances over her shoulder and freezes as though forgetting it’s not just her and Kane in the room.
“I can’t help you get that bitch out of here if I’m fucking shot in the stomach, you dumb fuck!” Kane bellows and moans.
Rick already shot you once, dumbass! I don’t think he will hesitate to do it again.
“Will you two both shut the hell up and let me think? And, Kane? If you can’t do that, I’ll shoot you somewhere that will shut your annoying ass up for good.
Why am I constantly surrounded by incompetent people that can’t do their fucking jobs?
” Yep, I knew that was coming. I’m well-versed in Rick’s escalation and thought process.
If Kane pushes him much more, it’s only going to get worse for him, and since he’s already been shot, that’s not very promising for Kane.
There’s only so many options for escalation after a bullet wound to the gut.
And it’s not looking much better for Debbie Jo.
Kane groans. “You owe me! You promised me twenty percent!”