Page 10 of THE EX-Con

“Hands in the air, Trip.” Adam steps forward, and I don’t miss the way he subtly nudges my foot.

I do a quick scan of Jenny. She looks terrified, but from what I can see, there’s no wound or discoloration on her skin. No visible injuries, but I don’t allow that fact to make me complacent.

I’ll need to take care of Trip first.

“Stay out of our business, boy.”

“I’m a cop, Trip. It’s my job to get in your business.”

Trip waves his gun. “I could shoot you.”

“Then what? You shoot a cop, and it’s gonna be so much worse for you.”

“Fuck off. You don’t do noth?—”

Trip doesn’t finish his words as I ram my body into him, the bat hitting his stomach. We both fall to the floor, and I knock the gun from his hand.

Time to settle an old score.

The first punch breaks his nose. The second makes him cough up blood. I hit him for my mother. For Jenny. For me.

I’m so consumed by rage that I brush off the hand on my shoulder. The only time I stop is when small arms wrap around me, Jenny hugging me from behind. She’s crying, and she presses her face to my neck. “Stop, Jackson. Please. You’ll kill him.”

Trip is lying in a pool of his blood. He’s breathing but barely. I stare at my knuckles, raw and bleeding, too. Mustering whatever strength I have left, I spin around to face Jenny.

Tears fall freely on her cheeks.

“Are you okay, baby girl? Did he hurt you?”

She takes my hand and holds it in both of hers. “No, he didn’t, just doused me in gasoline. Let’s go home, Jackson. Take me home.”

6

JENNY

“Good morning,” I tell Jackson as I rub my eyes, my voice still thick with sleep.

The smells hit me first—freshly brewed coffee and butter sizzling on a pan. My kitchen is tiny, barely enough room for one person, but there he is. His broad back is turned to me, his shoulders nearly touching the overhead cabinets.

Jackson is barefoot, and he has nothing on except a pair of sweatpants. I catch myself drooling at the sight of him—the tattoos all over his body, the way his muscles flex. Every damned thing he does turns me on.

He throws me a smile over his shoulder. “Good morning, baby girl. Breakfast is served.”

I plop down on the nearest seat and rest my cheek on my palm, unashamedly checking him out. “You’re spoiling me.”

“As I should.” He sets a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me, leaning over the table to kiss my forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Everything that happened yesterday is a bit of a blur—the drive from the bank to the old farmhouse, the madman drenching me in gasoline, the sound of tires against gravel, Jackson appearing in the doorway with a cop.

“I’m okay, all things considered.”

He sits across from me and peers closer. “You sure?” He takes my hand and kisses my palm, a thrill running through my chest.

“Not a hundred percent, but I will be in time.”

“I’m so sorry about this, baby girl. I never thought he’d come after me or anyone I cared about. He’ll never hurt you again. No one will. I promise you.”

I believe him. In the short time we’ve spent together, Jackson has always been careful with me. We can be rough in bed, but that’s it. Seeing how he reacts when I’m in danger puts me at ease. This is a man who’ll do anything to protect me and keep me safe, and I can’t ask for anything more. “I know.”

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