Page 87 of Fighting Jacob

He fights me all the way. “Get off me; I’m just doing my job.”

When he snaps another two pictures of Noah lying lifeless on his hospital bed, I snatch the camera out of his hand before searching for the SD card. Once it’s in my hot little hand, I throw his camera to the ground then shatter it with my foot. I don’t know if it has an internal memory, so I can’t risk him having images on there.

As I hand Emily the SD card, the paparazzi venomously snarls, “You should turn off the life support. He’d be worth more dead than alive.”

Rage fills me. It’s hot, black, and ugly. Those are the exact words Noah’s mom said when I called to tell her about Noah’s accident.

“You fucking piece of shit!” In a blur of fury, I charge for him. I pole drive into him so hard, his head cracks the glass of the room opposite Noah’s before he hits the floor like a bag of shit. Recklessly, and without pause for consideration, I rain my fists down on his face. I beat the living hell out of him, not stopping until two security officers drag me off him, and even then, an occasional fist hits its mark.

“You’re arresting the wrong person. Jacob didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one you should be arresting.”

When I follow the direction of Emily’s finger point, blood scorches my veins. The stupid fuck I just assaulted is smirking at me, like elbowing a pregnant woman who’s attempting to protect her fiancé is funny.

I’ll show him how funny it is.

After shrugging out of the security officers' hold, I dive for the unnamed man again. Two of his front teeth scatter across the floor a mere second before it feels like someone sets my eyelids on fire.

“Fuck!” I drop to my knees, my hands darting up to rub my eyes. The harder I scrub, the more they burn. It feels like someone poured gasoline over my head before tossing a match at me.

When someone wraps their arms around my shoulders, I yank away from them. I can’t see anything through my swollen eyes, so I have no clue who is approaching me and for what reason.

“It’s me.” Emily's tone is as silky as the water she pours over my eyes after raising my head via my chin. "They hit you with pepper spray. This should help the burn." After dumping a bottle of water over my eyes, two round circles cover them. I can't be certain since I can't see two feet in front of me, but I'm reasonably sure they’re the cucumber slices she picks off her sandwiches every day. She hates cucumber with a passion.

Once the burn lessens, so does the fury in my veins. “I’m sorry, Em—”

“Don’t you dare apologize. You did nothing wrong.” She stops to suck in a quick breath before advising me she’ll be back.

Even though I can’t see, my hearing works just fine. “You need to help him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He was defending Noah.”

“I don’t know what I can do. It’s not just the paparazzi pressing charges; the security officers are lining up as well.” I hear a noise, like someone scrubbing stubble on their chin. “I’ll do everything I can, but he needs a good lawyer.”

I blink through the blur in front of me when someone helps me from the ground before circling cuffs around my wrists. I'm not one hundred percent certain, but I'm reasonably sure the blob of blue in front of me is Ryan.

My suspicions are confirmed when he says, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used you against you in a court of law...”

Chapter Forty-Four

Lola

I slide a beer across the bar to Bob, one of Pete’s regulars, before digging my ringing cell phone out of my pocket. Although Pete has a stern no phones at work policy, he gave me a free pass after I informed him about Noah’s accident. He’s adamant I can only use it in emergency situations, which I’m fine with. No one calls me anymore, so that’s all it would be used for.

“Hello.” My voice is apprehensive since I didn’t recognize the number flashing across the screen.

I exhale my nerves with a big breath when my caller asks, “How’s my pretty lady?”

“I’m good, Hank. You?” With my phone held to my ear by my shoulder, I refill the empty peanut containers on the bar. “Miss me already? I only left you at lunchtime."

“I always miss having a pretty lady around, but that’s a story for another day.”

Smiling, I ring up Tallas’ tab before devoting my focus back to Hank. “I offered to hook you up. You keep denying my requests.” I hand Tallas his change before pulling another beer for Bob. By keeping busy, I don’t feel as guilty about breaking Pete’s rules. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Do pigs fly?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Do they?”

A small stretch of silence passes between us. It's nothing new for us. We can go an hour without talking, and it never feels awkward.

What Hank says next, though, it’s as awkward as it comes. “I know you say things are over between you and Jacob, but I know you still care about him, so I thought I oughta tell you what’s going on.”

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