Page 70 of Promise Not To Fall

I can hear the sirens of the cops and know, if caught, we’ll be in trouble.

“Jake, stop!” I shout, but between the rush of my blood and my pounding heart, it sounds like a whisper.

His head turns when he hears me scream, the back of his hand sweeping over his busted mouth. Jake reaches up and easily pulls away from Messer who has gotten a hold of his shirt.

They exchange a look. I can’t see Jake’s eyes in the darkness of the street, but I can see Messer’s, and he’s backing down, spitting blood and in obvious pain. Messer smiles, holding up his palms to Jake.

Standing up, Jake turns around to face me, his face red, his mouth and hands bleeding, eyes swollen, and a busted lip. Blood drenches the front of his shirt, but his eyes, oh God, those eyes. They wreck me.

It’s time for us to leave. I’d been arrested in Mexico and I certainly don’t want to add to my dossier of delinquencies by adding the Bahamas on my passport of prison time.

I scream at Jake, “We have to go… NOW!”

With a renewed sense of urgency, and a feeling of testosterone-laden accomplishment, Jake turns to Messer and gruffly says, “You mess with me or someone I love again, and you won’t have to worry about watching your back because your body won’t easily be found! This will be our last encounter. If I ever see you even near my bar, walking away isn’t going to be an option.”

Jake reaches for me, his hands on my waist pushing me forward, leaving Messer to nurse his wounds and explain to the Bahamian authorities what happened. Jake doesn’t seem too concerned the police will question him, the laid-back island life definitely has its advantages.

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