Dawn of Forever (Jack & Jill #3) (30 page)

He met Preston’s eyes. The little penis in a suit smirked then held open his suit coat to reveal the gun in his inside pocket.

“I’d let me in, jerk-off.”

Christmas came early that year for Jackson Knight. He was wrong—the universe’s answer to his desperate need was not Luke. It was Preston Iverson.

Jackson opened the storm door and stepped back as Preston came inside, pulling his gun from his inside pocket and pointing it at Jackson.

“You think you can fuck my wife’s body and my daughter’s mind and get away with it? You think you can just waltz into town with no fucking past and take what’s mine?”

“What’s going on?”

Preston looked at Luke, moving the gun back and forth between them. “I didn’t know you had company. Who’s this guy? Your lover?” He laughed. “Buttfuckers.”

Jackson raised a single brow. “What are you going to do with our bodies after you shoot us?”

“I’m going to weight your asses down and dump you in the river.”

Jackson nodded. “Is that a good spot? Is the river deep? Has it frozen over yet?”

Preston pointed the gun back at Jackson. “Why the fuck do you care?”

It happened in a blink, less than a blink. Jackson grabbed the gun out of Preston’s hand like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

Preston’s eyes widened as he held his hands up. “Take it easy. I wasn’t really going to shoot you.”

“You were.” Jackson emptied the clip and tossed it left, then discarded the gun to the right. It skidded to a stop at Luke’s feet.

Preston eyed both the gun and the clip as if he stood a chance of retrieving both.

“You’re not going to shoot me?” Preston asked.

Jackson shook his head. “Sorry. I’m a bit more hands-on.”

“What does that—fuck!”

Jackson started with Preston’s nose, his knuckles relishing the feel of crushing bone. “I have a pressing need to attend to…” he landed a fist in his right eye, followed by his left, then a quick upper cut to his jaw that sent him crashing to the floor “…but after seeing that picture of Ryn, I think I can spare an extra sixty seconds to make sure you feel everything you ever did to her.” Jackson bent down and grabbed his head, ramming it into his knee, busting out several teeth. Preston gasped and groaned. A click sounded behind Jackson.

“That’s enough.” Luke pieced the gun back together and held it at Jackson’s back. “Let’s just call the police before you kill him.”

“You won’t shoot me, Jones.” Jackson broke several of Preston’s ribs with his foot.

“Argh! Fuck!”

“Stop!” Luke demanded.

Jackson retrieved the photo of Ryn from Preston’s pocket and handed it to Luke. “This is Ryn and this is Ryn’s ex-husband.” He grabbed Preston’s arm and twisted it around his back until it snapped. The tortured animal’s cries continued.

“He did that to her. If you need to pretend it’s Jessica, then go ahead. Just keep looking at it and tell me when to stop and I’ll stop.”

Bone after bone broke. It really wasn’t Jackson’s MO to torture someone unless he needed information from them. Preston was an exception. Luke never said another word. Even after Jackson gave the final blow that ended Preston Iverson’s life, Luke didn’t move. He stared in silence at the photo.

Jackson turned, slightly winded, but also a bit more relaxed. He rested a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Good news, buddy. Thanks to our unexpected visitor, I do believe you’re going to live.”

He brushed past Luke, pulled on a shirt, and grabbed his bag. “Let it go, Jones. I can hear your thoughts. Look at the picture again. I didn’t kill a man, I saved a woman.”

On his way to the kitchen, Jackson snatched the picture from Luke’s hands. They didn’t move—he didn’t move.

“Tell me, what would you do to save the woman you love?” He grabbed a Red Bull from the refrigerator and popped the top.

Peeling his gaze from the limp body, Luke focused on Jackson. “Anything.”

Jackson nodded then took a swig, content with Luke’s commitment to his sister. “I don’t know where she is, but I know she would not have missed AJ’s funeral. Knox isn’t answering me.”

“You think he has her?”

“No.”

“Do you think he knows where she is?”

“Maybe.”

“Then why do you think he’s not answering you?”

“I don’t think he has his phone. But someone does.”

“So where are we going?”

Jackson grinned at Luke’s
we
comment. “Are you willing to die for her?”

“Yes.”

Jackson finished his Red Bull then tossed the can in the sink. “Last question and don’t fucking hesitate. Just answer it.”

Luke kept his unwavering gaze on Jackson.

“Are you willing to kill for her?”

“Yes.” The darkness in Luke’s eyes mirrored Jackson’s. It was the need for revenge obliterating all conscience—all reason.

“Then let’s go get her.”

Luke seemed to snap out of the moment as Jackson grabbed the neck of Preston’s shirt and coat then dragged him toward the back door, leaving a blood-smeared trail on the wood floor.

“What are you going to do with the body?”

“I got a tip that the bottom of the river is a good spot.” He wasn’t used to being the hitman and the cleanup crew, but Knox was MIA. “Don’t step in the blood. Just … don’t move at all.”

*

“We’re going to
San Francisco?” Luke asked after Jackson requested two tickets at the airport ticket counter.

“Yup.”

“Is it safe for you to go home?”

“Nope.”

“You think she’s there?” Luke couldn’t imagine making the trip to Nebraska only to discover Jessica was in San Francisco.

Jackson handed Luke back his ID and ticket. “I think the answer is there.”

“Why not Portland?” Luke slung his bag over his shoulder and followed Jackson to security.

“Just a hunch.”

As they waited to board the plane, Luke stared out the window at the planes taxiing down the runway. He’d heard many first-hand accounts of murder, including Jessica killing Four, but watching Jackson take the life of a human being right in front of him was a life-changing experience. Jackson was right. He didn’t kill a man he hated, he saved the woman he loved.

Luke would do the same thing. He would die for Jessica. He would kill for her. He would end ten lives to save one, if that one was hers. It wasn’t sane. It was far from rational. But it was love, and true walk-through-the-fucking-flames-of-hell love was unconditional and completely insane.

“Here we go.” Jackson focused on the screen of his phone then he held it in front of Luke. “I’ve been expecting this.”

I have her. Don’t be late this time.

“I knew that fucker had her.”

Jackson shook his head. “It’s not Knox, just his phone.” He ran his hand through his hair then squeezed the back of his neck. “Fucking hell,” he said on a sigh.

Luke gripped the arms of the chair. “What does that mean? ‘Don’t be late this time?’”

He stared at the message. “I don’t know.”

“Well think, goddammit!”

Jackson flinched as everyone around them quieted. Curious eyes put them center stage.

“Calm the fuck down,” Jackson whispered. “The last thing we need is a scene.”

“What were you late for before? This message is a reference to something. It’s telling us exactly where she is.”

“I-I don’t know.” He typed in a response.

“What the hell?”

“Shut it. I know what I’m doing.”

I’m busy. Can we set something up for next week?

“This could backfire.” Luke grimaced at the screen.

Jackson nodded. “It could.”

His phone vibrated with another message.

I’m afraid she won’t last that long.

“Jesus …” Luke closed his eyes as Jackson typed another response.

She’s stronger than you think. Next week. See you then.

“And now we wait.” Jackson stood, slipping his phone into his pocket as they made the first boarding call.

“Wait? Are you crazy? For what?”

“Her location. If they really want me there, they’ll give me more than ‘don’t be late this time.’ But I’m fairly certain I’ve just pissed them off and they’ll need to regroup before sending another message.”

“What if she’s here? Why are we getting on the plane? We should wait until they message you back.”

Jackson shook his head. “This isn’t about Jackson Knight. Jude Day was late for something, but he’s never been to Omaha, so she isn’t here.”

T
he arctic splash
brought Jillian and Knox back to life.

“Rise and shine. Aw, don’t look so agitated. Think of it as a bath. You both stink.”

Knox glared at Irene as she took a hit from her inhaler. It was his first time experiencing her favorite form of torture. The water wasn’t just cold. It felt like a bucket from a snow-fed river high in the Rockies—a heart-stopping jolt. Jillian still preferred it to the heat or even worse, the talk of bringing Luke and Jackson to her immediate depth of Hell.

“Breakfast, darling?” She set a dish of canned dog food next to Knox.

His glare didn’t falter.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged then stacked the four empty five-gallon buckets together and carried them up the stairs.

It must have taken her an hour to bring them downstairs, stopping for inhaler breaks. What did it say about Jillian and Knox’s physical state that they didn’t wake until she heaved them at their face?

“Your shoulder looks infected.”

Jillian’s gaze shifted to Knox’s shoulder. “Yours probably is too, but I wouldn’t know. Apparently only
I
need to be naked. I think she’s a lesbian.”

“I was married to her.”

“Let me repeat, I think she’s a lesbian.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to make you feel vulnerable, weak.”

“Maybe. The lesbian scenario is more flattering.”

Knox chuckled. “You
are
dying. You’re in the hallucination phase, falling in love with your captor.”

“Stockholm syndrome. It’s not hallucinating and I don’t have it.”

He eased onto his side. Jillian winced then closed her eyes. Knox ate the dog food, just like Claire had done.

“She probably poisoned it.”

He continued eating it. After wriggling and grunting back to sitting, brown food stuck to his face, he burped. “She didn’t poison it. That’s not her style.”

“What’s her style?”

“She’s going to make you choose between saving your brother or Luke. Then she’s going to make the one you saved kill himself, threatening to kill you if they don’t. For the grand finale she’s going to convince you this is all my fault so you kill me and of course … you will die last.”

His words settled like the credits at the end of a tragic movie.

“Maybe that’s too predictable. She hates being predictable.” Jillian smirked.

“She hates you more than me. She’s going to make you kill me then she’s going to watch Jackson torture and eventually kill you.”

“And Luke?” Knox asked.

“Luke lives.”

“Why?”

“Because she knows he’s the only innocent one. She’s not a monster by nature, Edgar did this to her. You did this to her. The only way she can justify her actions is if she feels like she’s somehow ridding this world of sin. Luke walks. It’s the only way.”

A silent exchange took place. Jillian’s meaning was in what she didn’t say. Luke was to live … no matter who had to die to make that happen. Everyone else was expendable.

“Now … my father. How did he win my mother’s heart?”

Knox chuckled. “He didn’t.”

*

Sunny

Life and death
sent Sunny and Mickey in different directions, but their love never wavered. Knox committed to serving his country in exchange for an education. They had limited time together. She worked full-time at the hotel tending bar and even picked up extra shifts cleaning rooms.

Knox got his degree in four years, serving on the weekends. He took two consecutive tours after graduation. When he came home between tours he promised her “one more year.” The broken promises went on for four more years as he worked his way up in rank. Letters, phone calls, and the rare stolen weekend kept them together. He knew she hated him, she said as much in her letters. But the moment he had her back in his arms the hate faded and their love came back as strong as ever.