Hold on to Hope

How could I ensure that the ones I loved weren’t getting put in the path of a firing squad when I had no fucking clue what the sin had been?

Mind going crazy trying to figure out why the fuck someone would do this.

Unless it was Jack.

Violence skated the surface of my skin at the thought.

Still, my mind rejected it. I knew Frankie thought he was responsible, but hadn’t this been going on before I’d met him? That note in the diaper bag? The word on my car? Or were they separate? A coincidence?

Either way, knew the Jack was pissed.

I didn’t trust him for a second.

Second the text had come in, I’d rushed downstairs and asked my parents to watch Everett, told them something was going down at Frankie’s place, my fingers tapping out a quick message to Seth to let him know there had been another message.

He’d texted back that he would head over to check it out.

Didn’t matter that I knew he was going to be there. Couldn’t stop myself from speeding down the streets to get to her.

Needing to know she was okay.

That she was fine.

Squeezing the steering wheel, I took a right a little sharper than prudent, tires skidding through the curve, the vibration of the pull at the rear of my car filling my nerves with another shock of aggression.

The silence in my head screamed.

I had to get to her.

Had to.

I slowed only a fraction when I hit the neighborhood street, eyes scanning the house numbers that whizzed by.

Guessed I already knew which address was going to be hers, the way I was jerking the car to the left in a sharp turn, jamming on my brakes in the gravel lot in the front.

I hauled out of my car the second I put it in park, jumping out, noticing the black muscle car that was sitting at an angle in front of the duplex attached to Frankie’s.

Shit.

Frankie had said that bastard wasn’t there. That his car was gone. Told me she was fine, she just needed me there.

Fury lit. Hands in fists as I started up the two steps onto Frankie’s porch, vision going red when I saw the entirety of it covered in the two words. She was jerking the door open like she’d been standing on the other side waiting for me to get there, my heart nearly cracking in relief at the sight of her before I sensed the movement coming at me from behind.

I glanced over my shoulder to find that piece of shit charging for me.

Rage pumped out of control.

A shock of adrenaline to my system.

Before I could get turned around, asshole grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me back down the steps.

Jack was this beefy motherfucker.

Twice as wide as me.

I was too goddamn pissed to even consider that he might be twice as strong.

He dragged me backward down the steps, but somehow, I managed to keep my balance enough to whirl around and throw a punch that landed in his gut.

Hard enough that I could feel the air gush from his lungs, asshole bending at the waist.

Of course, he was throwing a fist at the same fucking time, clocking me on the jaw.

Pain splintered across my face. A ringing sort of pain. Like I could actually hear the crack of agony as it fractured through my brain.

Frantically, I blinked, fought to remain upright. To remain coherent.

I swayed to the left, staggered forward.

Was pretty sure it was only the surging anger I felt that kept me standing. The disgust that cleared my mind enough so I could focus on what I was fighting for.

What had me throwing a sidekick, sole of my shoe hitting him square in the chest. It sent him stumbling back, and I was moving his way, throwing another hit to the side of his head, trying to get a hold of him so I could take him to the ground.

He lurched forward. Rammed me in the chest with his shoulder.

Air bashed from my lungs.

Could feel the crazed energy rushing all over me, the dread and the fear and the horror. Frankie Leigh was suddenly a blur at the edge of my sight.

Could tell she was screaming, losing her damn mind as she clawed and kicked and tried to get in the middle of us.

“Frankie!” I yelled. “Get back, Frankie.”

That was right when Jack flung an arm out and tossed her out of the way. He sent her a scathing glare as she toppled to the ground.

He shouted something I couldn’t read.

Hatred howled, beat through my mind and thundered in my chest.

I flew for him, unprepared for the fist that struck me at the corner of my mouth. I barely even felt it. Barely felt the blinding pain or the blood that was gushing free. The only thing I felt was the fury. The desperation to end this.