Page 2 of Holidays and Handcuffs

Richard’s eyes widen in panic, and he takes a few steps back, but Jack is on him in seconds. Richard tries to fight back but Jack is stronger. He lands another punch in his abdomen, causing him to double over. He grabs Richard by the collar and slams him against the brick wall with such force that the sound echoes down the alley.

“Ha!” Richard cries out as Jack’s fist connects with his jaw, and Richard falls to the ground.

I should look away—but I don’t. I’m frozen in place, my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes locked on the scene unfolding before me.

William stumbles to his feet, clutching his jaw, but before he can run, Jack’s on him too. William manages to throw a few punches at Jack, but Jack got the upper hand and in no time, he’s pleading for Jack to stop.

“Next time you think about touching her,” Jack growls, leaning in close to William’s ear, “remember this.”

Jack releases him, and William crumples to the ground, clutching his arm, gasping for breath. Jack straightens, his chest rising and falling as he stands over the two boys, now broken and whimpering on the ground. His hands are clenched into fists, knuckles white, and I can see a bruise forming above his left eye.

He turns to me, his eyes softer now but still dark with anger. “Are you okay?”

I can’t find my voice. My legs are trembling, but I manage a nod, staring at the two boys who are moaning in pain. Jack moves toward me. Instinctively, I take a step back, my mind racing with what I just witnessed. He stops, his expression softening further when he notices the fear in my eyes.

“You don’t need to be scared of me, Princess,” he says quietly, reaching out a hand as if to comfort me. His voice is still low, but the anger is gone, replaced by something else. Concern. Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that.

I stare at his now bloodied knuckles, then at him. He’s not the same boy I remember. This Jack is different. Darker. Dangerous. Yet, I don’t feel unsafe with him. Quite the opposite.

He's a senior, effortlessly charming, and every girl at school seems to have a crush on him. They practically melt whenever he walks by. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never so much as spoken a word to me. So why is he helping me now?

“Are you okay?” His voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I nod, though I’m not sure if I’m convincing either of us.

“Come on,” he says, his voice gentler now. “Let’s get you home.”

Jack

I walk beside her, my fists still clenched, rage simmering just beneath the surface. My muscles are tight, like I’m one bad thought away from turning around and finishing what I started with those assholes.

Just thinking about them makes my blood boil. I wanted to break more than just their arms, and it’s taking everything in me not to march back and show them exactly how much worse it could get. What could’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up?

Emily walks quietly beside me. I notice her glance my way a few times, but she doesn’t say anything at first. She’s probably scared out of her mind.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly, her voice small but clear. “For… for helping me.”

I glance down at her, seeing the way her hands are still shaking slightly. She’s trying to keep it together, but I can tell she’s rattled. Of course, she is. I let out a sharp breath, trying to cool the heat inside me.

“You should be more careful,” I mutter, my voice a little harsher than I mean it to be. “You shouldn’t have been walking alone at night. Anything could’ve happened.”

Her steps falter for a second, and I immediately regret the way I said it. I didn’t mean to come off like that, but I can’t help it. The thought of what could have gone wrong if I hadn’t shown up… it’s eating me alive. Those bastards were seconds away from doing something unforgivable.

I stop for a second, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake the tension out. I sigh, swallowing the rest of my frustration. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that.”

She’s quiet again for a moment. “Were you following me?” she asks softly, like she’s still processing the whole thing.

“No. Just… saw you by chance.” I respond with a shake of my head.

“So, what were you doing out there alone, anyway?” I glance down at her, noticing how her hands tighten around the straps of her bag.

“I was coming from my book club,” she says softly, not quite meeting my eyes. “Didn’t want to take the bus.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “Why not?”

She hesitates, just for a moment, and I catch the flicker of something in her expression before she replies, “I just like to walk sometimes.”

I don’t press her further, though I’m not convinced that’s the whole story. There’s something she’s not saying.

After a beat of silence, she turns her head slightly toward me and says, “Thank you… for saving me. What can I do to pay you back?”

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