Page 65 of Jett in Jeopardy

I shook my head. “Yourfatherruined your life when he tried to grope me in a back room.”

“He wouldn’t have done that. He loved my mother!”

“Maybe he did. But not enough to stop him from assaulting me, and itwasn’tjust me. There were others, younger than I’d been.” And who he had gone a lot further than shoving his hands down their pants. I was lucky my own encounter with Simon’s father wasn’t worse than it had been.

Simon drew his arm back like he was going to pistol whip me. I flinched and stepped back, nearly tumbling over a pile of old wood boards left on the floor.

The brilliant rage in Simon’s face dimmed, that hard smirk taking its place once more.

“At first, when I saw you, I thought I would just ruin your life the same way you ruined mine and my father’s. I burned your house down. I convinced Paula to fire you when I told her you were hitting on customers and making them uncomfortable. And then, I would get into your house, delete your school assignments, steal from you. Sometimes, I would just stand there and watch you sleep.” A chill danced up my spine, and I held myself against the shiver rippling through me. “I thought about wrapping my hands around your neck and squeezing. How good it would feel when your bones crunched under my hands. How much I would have liked for you to open your eyes, wide and terrified, and then eventually, they’d go blank when you died. I knew I would kill you. I knew this day would come, eventually.”

I didn’t say anything, not just because I couldn’t think of anything to say, but my mouth had gone dry. My voice had just disappeared. I’d never been hated like this, never seen someone despise me this way.

He closed the distance between us, pressing the gun’s barrel against my chest so hard I was sure it would leave a mark. “Get on your knees. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

I didn’t move. Tension gripped my muscles, making them ache, panic pressing down on my chest, and for the first time, I didn’t really believe I was going to get out of this.

“I wasn’t the only one,” I managed to push the words out, my voice rough and dry as I collapsed to my knees, hating the smug smile curling Simon’s mouth.

“If you kill me, you really will ruin your life.”

He shook his head. “I’ll finally set myself free.”

He paced back and forth in front of me, probably trying to work himself up to kill me. Finally, he stopped in front of me, raised the gun, and pressed the cold barrel to my forehead.This is it. I squeezed my eyes shut when a sharp squeal split the quiet moment.

My eyes popped open at the same time Simon turned away from me. Brody stood in the opening, his dark eyes fixed on me. A strange mix of relief and terror twisted inside me. I was so grateful to see him, grateful at the prospect he might help me survive this, but Simon still had the gun. He still had the upper hand, and if anything happened to Brody… I couldn’t stand to think about it.

I needed to get us both out of this. Distantly, I could hear Brody and Simon snarking back and forth at each other, but I was too focused on looking for something I could use to take Simon out, or at least knock the gun out of his hand and even the odds a little. My gaze snagged on a pile of boards I’d stumbled over earlier.

The exchange between Brody and Simon was growing more heated, and I knew I didn’t have a lot of time left. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed the end of one of the boards. It must have been close to four feet long. The wood was weathered and splintered against the palms of my hands. I just swung it wide and, by all the luck in the universe, caught Simon against the side of his head. He howled and stumbled to the side. I drew my arms back, ready to swing again, but Brody had lunged forward, catching him around the middle and tumbling them both to the floor.

Both men twisted and wrestled on the floor for control of the gun.

A loud bang echoed through the warehouse. The sound was deafening, like standing next to a lightning strike. Panic burst inside me, stealing my breath, while I looked down at the two unmoving men before me.

No, no, no! Please, not him!

Finally, Brody grunted and shoved Simon’s lifeless body off of him. Relief rolled over me like a wave, leaving me unsteady on my softening limbs. I crumpled to the cold concrete floor, and Brody crawled over to me, pulling me into his lap and holding me tight against his chest.

The terror I felt thinking I’d lost him for even a split second left my insides trembling. I choked on a muffled sob.

“You’re okay,” Brody whispered against my ear. His hands stroked my hair. “You’re okay.”

“I wasn’t worried about me,” I managed in a trembling whisper. “Thought you were…” I couldn’t say it out loud.

My arms tightened around his neck, holding him as close to me as I could. I had to have been choking him, but if I was, he didn’t complain. Instead, he rubbed my back in slow, soothing circles.

“You’re okay,” he said again. “You’re safe.” And I wondered if I wasn’t the only one he was trying to convince.

I let out a shuddering breath and risked a glimpse over at Simon. He stared blankly up at the ceiling, mouth gaping, red spreading out across his chest. I heard police sirens growing closer.

It was over. It was finallyreallyover.

By the time both Brody and I were done speaking to the police, it was late. Well past midnight. At some point through the evening, in between giving my statement over and over again, I called Grier and gave him a quick summary of what happened, warning him it could be a while before I came home, so he wouldn’t worry.

Finally, the police told both Brody and me we could go. Between Simon beating the shit out of me a few days ago, his confession, and mine and Brody’s identical explanations for what had happened in the warehouse, the police seemed convinced that what had happened to Simon had been self-defense. Simon’s newly purchased body dismemberment kit probably helped convince the police we were telling the truth, too.

A shudder rippled through me as we made our way to Brody’s truck, now parked in the police station parking lot.

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