Page 18 of Their Rustic Retreat

“Jessie Joe, give me a good reason right this instant on why I shouldn’t be breaking your face with my fist?”

“Let’s not get so nasty so quickly. I haven’t hurt her. Have I?” the man Tristian called Jessie Joe, replied.

“That true?” Hawk shouts out to me. “Has he done anything to you?”

“Does boring and annoying me count?” I reply. “I’m fine. Really. Not fine enough that I’m going to protest you punching him in the face, though.”

“Good, because I’m pretty sure this is where this is going,” Tristian says. “Because, really, I don’t see any other way I’m going to get the message across to you, Jessie Joe. I’m done. I’m not working for the organization anymore. Not after what I’ve seen. Not when there’s something better out there for me.”

Jessie Joe snorts, it’s a weird, off-putting, nasally laugh. “Something better for you? A dumb sack of muscle like yourself? We got the best for you right here, Tristian. You’re just too stupid to see that.”

And thus, the first fist cracked across the creep's face.

My heart is a flutter. Sure, any girl loves when a guy stands up for her. But standing up for yourself is important too.

Hawk is a bit surprised by the sudden outburst, too, but clearly isn’t disapproving of it.

“There is something better than this, Jessie. At least for me. City life is fine for most, but it only took a few weeks out in a small town to grow to love the fresh air, the cheery faces, and seeing more than gray asphalt and concrete everywhere I turn. All of these things let me know there’s more to life than just having a paycheck week to week, doing a job that makes you miserable.”

“You want to live in the middle of nowhere? With a bunch of redneck hicks?” the skinny man replies.

He gets punched again.

“They’re people like you and me. Or like me, because, damn, you’re making yourself to be a fucking asshole right now, Jessie Joe.”

Jessie Joe spits some out blood, and is that a tooth? “It doesn’t matter what you want, Tristian. Paul wants you working here. And what Paul wants, Paul gets. You don’t want to make Paul angry, do you?”

“Is that the guy who got kicked to the curb?” Hawk asks Tristian. “Sorry, can’t keep my pricks straight from one another.”

“Kicked to the curb?”

“Like, fired from the mob?”

Jessie laughs. I’m surprised he doesn’t get punched again for doing so. “They’d never cut off Paul. He’s too important.”

Tristian sighs. “Yeah, but Kenny was more important. Your boss made a mistake, and now it’s time for both you and him to pay for it.”

The weirdo looks aghast. “I have no idea what either of you are talking about.”

Hawk shrugs. “I got a contact. Says they want nothing to do with you anymore. Got the police coming here. I mean, we could have just let them handle it, but...”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, Jessie Joe,” Tristian says as he continues to loom over his former coworker. “And that I’ve only broken your face twice is testament that there’s at least some intelligence in that tiny brain of yours.”

“You’re lying,” the exasperated weirdo replies. “They’d never cut him off. He’s too valuable.”

Flashing red lights shine through the few windows the room has.

“They did. And now he’s in deep shit. And you’re in deep shit now, too, for this whole kidnapping-and-false-imprisonment thing you’ve pulled, Jessie Joe.”

Jessie Joe looks out the window, the reality of the situation settling in. “Tristian, you can’t sell me out like this. You should let me go. There’s a back door. Just tell them you didn’t find me here, and that she was here all alone, unharmed.”

The creep assumes Tristian’s cooperation.

He assumes wrong. Tristian is a whole lot faster than he is and grabs him by the shoulder, stopping his escape.

“Nah, I think you’ve worn out my generosity. It’s time you went to prison, Jessie Joe. Don’t worry. I’m sure someone as slimy and awful as you will flourish there.”

“Please, I’ve always treated you like a brother!”

---