Page 46 of Fighting Jacob

I shouldn’t relish the way his body shakes when it grows panicked he's not getting enough air, but I do. He should be grateful Lola is still on the forefront of my mind, or I’d continue our little game for a few more hours. Alas, my girl needs me more than I need revenge.

My lips brush Callum’s ear when I warn, “If I ever see you near Lola again, I’ll come back and finish this. Do you understand?”

He can't nod with how hard I'm gripping his neck, but he manages—somewhat.

It’s just as hard for me to release him from my hold. I’d rather strangle him until he passes out, but Noah isn’t the only one waiting for me. So is Lola. With that in mind, I let him go, pivot, and leave.

I freeze halfway down the path when he spits out, “She’ll always come running back for this.” When I turn around, I witness him grabbing his crotch. “She can’t get enough of it.”

Seeing my anger twisting up from my stomach to my throat, Noah tries to calm me down. “Let it go, Jake. He’s not worth it.”

He’s right. He isn’t worth it. Besides, the more time I waste dealing with him, the less time I’ll have to comfort Lola.

I nudge my head to Noah’s truck, signaling it’s time for us to leave. “I’ve wasted enough time on this piece of shit.”

“You can’t make a ho into a housewife.” Callum’s weaselly laugh hackles my spikes. “Believe me, I tried. Couldn’t even beat her into submission.”

That’s all it takes for my anger to boil over. I charge for Callum, the pulse thumping in my ears almost drowning out Noah’s roar, “Do you have a fucking death wish?!”

One hit, and Callum is out cold, but I don’t stop. I beat the living shit out of him, only dispelling half the anger cutting me in two when images of him hitting Lola flash before my eyes. He beat her, and now I'm beating him, but he won't come out on top like Lola did. She kept her pride because she's so fucking strong. Callum isn't. He's a weasel of a man who didn't deserve a woman half as perfect as Lola.

I can't see anything through the fury blinding me. It's all a blur of fists and blood and Noah begging me to stop. Not even police sirens hollering in the distance slow me down. I want him to pay.

I want him dead.

“Jacob!” It takes everything Noah has to drag me off Callum, and even then, some part of my body is still whacking into him. “Enough. You taught him a lesson; now we have to go.”

Like a lightbulb switching on, I snap back to reality when my eyes absorb the blood on my hands. There’s enough to make me wonder if Callum is still alive.

I’m not the only one suspicious. Noah is checking him for a pulse, but he stops when a police officer draws a gun on him. “Put your hands in the air."

Noah’s wide eyes flick to mine before he raises his hands as requested. After holstering his gun, the officer rushes for him. He handcuffs him before pushing him forward, making him land on his stomach a mere inch from a lifeless Callum.

In a dazed state, I move to assist him. He wasn't doing anything wrong, so why is he being cuffed? My stumbled movements gain me the attention of the police officer. His pupils widen as he redraws his gun. “Stay where you are.” He directs his gun at my chest, his hands shaking.

He’s young. If I had to guess, I'd say he’s a first-year rookie. He’s also nervous about my size. That isn’t unusual; most people are threatened by my height, much less the span of my shoulders.

When I hold my hands out in front of my body, signaling I'm not going anywhere, a deep voice at my side murmurs, “Jacob?”

Only moving my eyes out of fear the nervous officer will shoot me if I move my body, I spot Ryan—friend and detective—standing on the bottom step of Callum’s porch.

“Hey.”

I inconspicuously nudge my head to the nervous officer, praying he’ll instruct him to lower his weapon, or at the very least, have him remove his finger from the trigger before he shoots me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lola

Tears sting my eyes when I peer through the one-way mirror at the Ravenshoe PD. Jacob is cuffed to a steel table. His usual happy-go-lucky exterior is nowhere to be found, replaced with a man who looks lost and confused. This is why I tried to stay away from him. If I had kept my distance, he wouldn’t be sitting in an interrogation room facing charges.

“Lola?”

Turning toward the voice, I’m met with a handsome man with short inky hair and blue eyes. His tailored dark suit showcases a muscular physique I could appreciate if I weren’t panicked out of my mind.

“Yes, I’m Lola.”

He waves for me to step forward. “Could you follow me?”

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