Dishonoring Jack

Chapter Twenty Four

Donovan's coming. He's here.

For a moment, Max stopped dragging her and Jack stopped wriggling in his grasp to watch Donovan's approach. No. Max would kill Donovan if given the chance, and thanks to Jack's recklessness, he now had that chance. Donovan was driving into his front yard.

Jack had to do something. She couldn't let Donovan enter the range of Clyde's gun which he was now steadying on the crooked porch railing, but she knew he wouldn't stop until she was safe.

"Lover boy's here to rescue you," Clyde said with a chortle. "Now we can finish all our business, get the deed, and go home."

"Shut up, Clyde!" Max called, tightening his grip around Jack's neck.

She gasped for a deep breath and took advantage of Max's distraction, ramming her elbows into the soft flesh above his rib cage. Max staggered backwards at the impact just enough to allow her to wriggle free from his grasp.

Max cursed at her. "You witch!"

Jack stumbled away from him and turned to face him as he barrelled towards her, teeth bared. As he lunged forward, Jack lifted her knee and rammed it into his crotch. Max fell to the ground and curled into a ball with a howl of pain. As much as Jack wanted to stay and enjoy the man's pain, Clyde still had a gun and Donovan was still driving towards them.

"Max, you alright?" Clyde asked, staggering down the steps.

Jack turned and ran, abandoning her bicycle to the Slate brothers. She cared more about her and Donovan's lives than a metal contraption, and even those were in danger.

Max stumbled to his feet, slurring profanities at Clyde. "Shoot her, you imbecile!"

Her heart pounding in her ears, Jack sprinted towards the nearing automobile. She had to make it to Donovan before a bullet found either of them. She heard Clyde muttering and the gun fired. Jack dove to the ground, landing hard on her chest, as a bullet soared over her head. Dirt smeared across her face and she stumbled to her feet, running forward again. She wove as she ran, hoping the unpredictable path would deter Clyde's bullet. The gun fired again, this time wide to the right.

"Jack, get in!" Donovan yelled, and she saw him slam on the brakes, the end of the automobile fishtailing in the middle of the road. He reached for the door handle and swung it open as a bullet pinged off the back fender.

Jack hurtled forward, her chest aching for more air than she could give it, and she lunged for the door as Clyde's gun released another bullet. Donovan caught her by the arm, pulling her inside the automobile while simultaneously pressing the gas pedal. The car zoomed forward, and at the disgruntled cries of outrage, Jack turned back to see the Slate brothers swearing at them in the front yard. She couldn't resist a grin. That might have been close, but what an adventure!

"Have you lost your mind?" Donovan yelled over the roaring engine.

Jack kept her gaze behind them for a moment, not wanting to face Donovan's well-justified rage. She had been reckless, stupid, and endangered both of their lives in her panicked furor to do something. Still, the exhilaration had not faded and Jack found herself wishing she'd brought her shotgun to show those Slate brothers just what she thought of them.

"Jack?"

Finally, she turned to look at him. His dark eyes burned through the starless night, fastened on her with startling intensity. He was angry, hurt, confused, all emotions Jack wished she hadn't inflicted.

"I had to do something."

"And getting yourself killed was your chosen course of action?" he returned, voice cracking. He shook his head, returning his focus to the road. "We'll talk about it when we get home."