Page 69 of Promise Not To Fall

“Thas a pretty lady, man.”

This moment right here is what Jake had warned me about, and I’ve willingly put myself in it. I’m such a naïve asshole. Nausea rolls through me at the thought of how this might end and what their intentions are. With shaking hands, I text Jake right away. All my text says is:Help. I’m at The Green Parrot.

To my surprises, he replies instantly.Which one?

Thank you, Jesus!

Downtown.

He replies with:Be there in two minutes.

Messer notices my phone in my hand and reaches for it, removing it, his smile menacing. Two minutes will be a lifetime. I just know they’re going to stuff me inside a van and I’ll never be seen again.

The guys with Messer walk away and around the corner, as if they all have a plan. Hide in the alley and then murder me is their plan.

“Give me my phone back.” I reach for my phone, but he holds it at bay over his head.

“Na na, pretty lady.”

Shit. I’m so fucking stupid. Mother shit fucking… just fuck!

“Come wit me,” Messer demands, trying to pull me with him behind the building where the other guys had disappeared in the shadows of the city. I know if I go back there it’s over.

Messer’s hands wrap around my wrists and tug me toward his tall skinny body. “Now.”

I tug back, glaring at him in the darkness. “No. Fuck you. I’m not going with you.”

“Ya are.” His black eyes bore into mine, harsh and calculating, his grip tightening so hard my hand goes numb.

That’s when I hear the scream of Jake’s bike as it redlines in front of the bar and comes to a quick stop between two cars, his back tire skidding and then smashing against the curb. He jumps off immediately and is rushing toward me. I see it in his eyes, mirroring my own, he knows immediately I’m in trouble and reaches for me.

“She’s with me,” he says, not bothering to look at Messer, his hands curling around mine.

Messer grabs my hand and yanks me right back to him, wrapping his heavy arm around me. He’s drunk, maybe even too drunk to understand how upset Jake is, and he smells absolutely horrible. “Dat may be tru, Jay.” They know each other. “She leavin’ wit me.”

Jake isn’t in the mood, his voice sharp. “No. Fuck you. She’s not leaving with you.” He gets in Messer’s face and towers over him. He never touches him, but he’s certainly close enough. “You got a problem with that, Messer?”

“Ya, ya I do.” Messer lets go of me and steps toward Jake, motioning behind him to his buddies in the alley. I’m guessing there’s a history between these two.

I knew early on when I met Jake he had a temper and if pushed enough, it would come out in all his raging glory. That time is now, and I’m glad that it isn’t me who’s on the receiving end of his anger.

Jake turns his head to Messer, glaring. “Not so much of a badass without your gun, huh, Messer?” Jake asks, taking another step in his direction, his shoulders rigid, ready for a fight. “What’s the matter, nothing to fucking say now?”

I move behind Jake, my back pressing against the building as he shields me, but I can see his face in the glimmer of the street light. A few people on the street notice the altercation and stop to watch, pointing and talking amongst themselves. This is an everyday occurrence in downtown Nassau—ignorance is bliss to the local yokels here, I suppose.

“Come on, man.” Jake smiles, taunting, reaching for Messer, but he takes a step back. “You’re gonna have to kill me before I let you leave with her.”

Messer’s jaw tightens. “You messin’ wit me Jay? Ya sure?”

Jake raises his hands, letting go of me and gives Messer one hard shove. “Fine, I’ll fucking prove it!”

Messer bows up at Jake and gives him what he’s looking for, a fight. Jake gets the first swing in, a heavy blow connecting with Messer’s jaw and then another. He certainly isn’t wasting any time and goddamn, who knew Island Boy could throw such a mean punch.

The intensity of the next few moments is fucking breathtaking. I actually watch with my mouth gaped open and strangely, turned on by Jake’s display of dominance. They collide and fall to the pavement, wrestling around taking swings. Jake’s swings come quick and with force I never imagined him being capable of. I’d been on the receiving end of his passionate strength, but never the angry strength fueled by rage and pent-up emotion he’s buried deep within.

There’s something more here than him protecting me. Each blow confirms this is something else entirely. He’s taking back the control Messer had over him during their first encounter. I know this is the guy who’d robbed Jake at gunpoint, who’d taken something from him that hadn’t been materialistic. His pride.

To outsiders, this altercation appears to be total chaos of men battling for dominance when, in reality, Jake has total control over every mind-numbing blow. He isn’t going to let Messer walk away without getting the vengeance that’s rightfully his to recover. There’s so much anger and pain behind his fists. I stare in disbelief at what I’m seeing.

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