Jack This Heart, page 18
“You’re not going by yourself. That’s not how we work.” Drag had covered Jack’s pinky back up and set it to the side.
“I can’t possibly risk harm coming to anyone Jack loves.” She’d be devastated if she brought him more pain than she already had. He’d seen her, all of her, and still loved her. He’d even been coming to get her. Shit.
Hemi put a hand on her shoulder. “But you’re the one Jack cared about the most. Nothing bad can happen to you, either. Ultimately, Full Throttle’s involvement is not your decision to make. We can decide how we want to proceed.”
Tears gathered at her eyes again and Shannon blinked them away. She refused to cry any more at their kindness or at the realization Jack had tried to return for her. The others started to voice their agreement or opinions.
Then Gina’s surprising giggle brought silence to the room. The blonde woman had a knuckle in her mouth and was staring at the floor.
“Care to share, love?” Snapper asked.
Gina lifted her head, a wide grin on her face. “I have an idea, but it will still be dangerous. If Bridget really has assassins and bullies on her side, any plan could result in someone getting hurt.”
“As long as it’s not Jack, I’m good.” Shannon fingered the necklace, then gripped the charm in her palm. It’s not a curse.
No, this necklace…her faith in it had kept her alive all these years. She’d channel that into hope and the belief she could save him.
“All right, then this is what we’ll do…” Gina started to elaborate, and Shannon hunkered down, trying her best to pay attention.
Regardless of whatever they came up with, she’d learned today that Jack was right. Telling the truth got her further than hiding behind lies. These people surrounding her could have offered her nothing but hate. Instead, they were willing to take her help and give in return.
“You get that, Shannon…you’ll be the target.”
She nodded. “I’m good with that.”
Anything for Jack… Anything to save him.
* * * *
Jack blinked awake, aware of an aching pain in his hand that refused to go away. With each passing second as he came to, the pain increased, a searing agony as if he’d burned himself badly. The scent of scorched flesh lingered in the air.
“What the hell happened?”
“Your woman never showed, so I made good on my threat.” A smooth velvet voice washed over him. Jack gave a little shiver as the woman speaking came into view.
She was beautiful, of course—long red tresses piled high on her head, a tan vest covering an off-white blouse that accentuated her breasts. Her curves were clearly lined too, an enticing package meant to draw the eye and make men or women lose their minds. Of that Jack had no doubt, but her looks were it, because when their gazes met, his appreciation withered. Those green depths held the look of a woman who was dead inside. No emotion reflected back at him.
“You’re Bridget.”
She laughed, a little half-hearted two syllable sound. “How did you guess?”
“Red hair, heartless gaze…kind of hard to match that up with anyone else. I’ve heard plenty of stories.”
The amusement on her face disappeared in an instant. “Well then, I hope I live up to them. Your pinky has been sent off to Full Throttle. I’m happy to say I’ve claimed a piece of each one of you cybernetic idiots, one way or another.”
Jack schooled his features. “Bragging isn’t a trait most people enjoy.”
“Neither is weakness, but you and your Full Throttle family love to embrace frailty. According to my spies, Shannon will arrive today. Now the question is if your friends are going to destroy her before I get the pleasure, or has she done more damage attempting to get me what she promised?”
Jack lifted his hand and looked at the burnt, mottled flesh that rested in the spot where his left pinky had once been. “Debts aren’t promises.”
“Aren’t they?” Bridget motioned to Jack. “Come sit with me over at this table. I’ve kept you untied, but try anything and the Inncukai you can’t see will end you before you get out of the door.”
The room itself was awash in low light. There were layers and layers of sheet drapes in a variety of reds, purples and blues hanging from the ceiling, making it hard to tell who was in the room or where anyone was.
“Where am I?” Jack asked as he slowly stood up. He used his right hand to brace himself against the chair for leverage because the left still stupidly believed there were five fingers there.
For the last several days he’d been kept in some sort of storage hut, surrounded by dirt wood bits. They’d shoved swill and stale food cubes at him. No violence, until the day prior when the Inncukai that had hurt Shannon had come for his finger. He’d been helpless against the mercenaries graceful and debilitating moves. For that moment, he’d been able to relate to how Shannon must have felt.
Bridget chuckled. “You honestly don’t even have a good guess? I thought the members of Full Throttle were smarter. Though I guess not, since none of you detected that bomb we placed in your racer.”
The truth was now doubly confirmed. This woman was to blame for what had happened to Hemi. He wasn’t the only person she’d hurt. No, Jack personally was aware of how she’d hurt Drag and Rune, and would have killed Petal if allowed. Even Snapper had cause to despise her. She got off on hurting people, especially people he cared for.
“Maybe you’d like to help her out and play Judas, instead?”
Who the hell is Judas? Jack made a fist and his nerve endings raged anew in pain as he collapsed into the chair Bridget had pulled out for him. An octagon-shaped table was in front of him, covered in fitted, soft cloth. The Macintosh symbol was etched in gold in the center of the table, the intertwined knot with the unmistakable M in the center. Though near the bottom a symbolic B had been carved into the table, showing through the cloth.
“Silent, huh? Fine…you can listen then.” Bridget sat down in the seat next to him in an inelegant manner, spreading her clad legs wide and propping her head up on one palm. “Your gang is run by a hypocrite. One who has obviously never shared the stories passed down about the Macintosh, who first colonized the Wespero region, and all others who were late arrivals. We’re a bit more enlightened than other gangs—”
“A bit more insane,” Jack replied.
With lightning speed, Bridget lashed out with a strike. Her hand moved so swift he didn’t expect the heavy sting she laid against his cheek with the slap.
“You’re too much like him.”
Light flooded the room as the door opened with squeaky hinges. “Ma’am, we’ve got a hauler incoming. Shannon is on it.”
“Ah.” Bridget sat up straight and tugged at the sleeves of her shirt, the three-quarter length coming right past her elbows. “Appears you might be spared after all. Escort her in once she arrives and do the usual.”
Jack arched a brow. “I did hear stories, but none of them really conveyed how paranoid you are.”
“That’s preparedness, you mean? Paranoia is for those who act out of constant fear. I do what I do based on awareness. You’ve seen what I’m capable of, and even if Drag is stupid, I at least respect the fact my abilities can be replicated.”
This woman was delusional about a lot of things, but at least she didn’t appear to underestimate Full Throttle. He wondered what they’d said to Shannon, what she felt. Had she traveled to Frog Lick and survived?
The door squeaked open again.
“…Unbelievable, all the trouble I went through thanks to Bridget kidnapping…” Shannon glanced toward them, though those damn sheer hanging curtains kept a good view of her somewhat obscured. He saw her shake her arm to get her escort to let her go. Jack now realized why Bridget used the curtains—as a distraction and possible confusion if anyone tried to attack her.
She stomped toward them, words still flying. “You should have just given me more time, left Jack alone. Now you can’t claim any deniability in this. Drag and Full Throttle know you’re after them.”
Shannon brushed aside the sheer curtains, coming closer. Jack realized he was holding his breath, waiting to see her, like he was waiting for food or water. He’d been so desperate to have her face in his sight again.
The last curtain moved and slowly he exhaled as her visage became clear. Her curls were pulled back out of her face by a strip of cloth, and the top she wore was a V-neck shirt with the necklace he’d made clearly visible. He wanted to believe that was a sign, but couldn’t tell from her gaze, wholly focused on Bridget, if she cared about him.
“Who gives a shit? If my goals are achieved, that’s what mattered. Did you get them?”
Shannon glanced at him only a quick second, and Jack could have sworn the bravado she displayed was part of her ongoing act. He’d seen the cocky way she stood, the arch of her back, and the point of her chin whenever she challenged someone.
She replicated the same stance now as Bridget inquired again, “Where are the plans?”
Shannon frowned and pulled something small out of her pants pocket. “Right here. You’re lucky they didn’t kill me on the spot.”
“Hmm, I mean if they did, I would still have had Jack here as a bargaining chip.” Bridget snatched the little file drive Shannon held from her outstretched hand and immediately stood up. “Wait here while I check those. Remember there are eyes on you. So don’t try anything.”
As Bridget marched away, the curtains falling back in place behind her disappearing form, Shannon came to Jack’s side.
“How are you here?” Jack mused aloud, still baffled by this turn of events. He’d rebuked her, pushed her away. Hell, he hadn’t even begged for forgiveness yet.
“Don’t worry about that. Is the finger the only body part they took?”
Jack nodded, as he held out his hands to display the damage. “Nothing worth missing.”
She crouched in front of him and took his hands into hers, as she gently examined the damage to his left one. “All hell’s about to break loose. When I give the word, follow me,” she whispered.
A moment’s trepidation rushed through him. He wanted to ask about the Inncukai, the threat Bridget held over their heads of an assassin who had hurt Shannon already and had no restraint about violence and murder.
Then the room plunged into darkness. Shannon tugged on his hands. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Jack came with little resistance, something Shannon was thankful for. She wanted to kill Bridget and the Inncukai, who was no doubt the one who had actually cut off Jack’s finger. But revenge wasn’t on the agenda—rescuing Jack was.
With a good idea of the direction of the door, Shannon hunched low and hoped Jack stayed in tune with her as they made their escape, silently praying the Full Throttle crew followed through on their word. The Inncukai was still a concern for Shannon, but Gina had repeatedly stated not to worry about the assassin.
They passed the curtains and made it to the main part of the floor, where the door was in sight. Footsteps scrambled around them. Bridget’s shrill voice issued commands. “Secure the prisoners. Where’s my assassin? What do you mean no longer at their post?”
The other words, from whoever was speaking, were too low to make out, but they needed to move quickly.
“Secure the exits if they aren’t at the table. And don’t fire inside—we won’t…turn the lamps.”
Light started to illuminate the area in front of them. Only a couple feet from the door, but the lamps would make them targets.
Shannon stood up and Jack stumbled a bit as he tried to follow her move. She tried her best to stabilize herself against his strength so they both didn’t end up face first.
A single shot fired, and she briefly squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the pain to hit her or a groan to come from Jack. When nothing happened, she was ready to move.
“Run!” She let go of Jack’s hand and beelined for the exit. They had to get out that door then a ride would be waiting.
Better be there.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her ears. She could barely make sense of anything besides the fact she wanted to survive and wanted Jack with her. Another shot rang out and she ignored it, shoving her whole body against the door and willing with every fiber of her being it would open. When it did, she couldn’t stop the surprised, “Oh!” that burst from her mouth.
Jack barreled into her. They were a tangle of arms, brushed torsos and fumbling legs as they stumbled into the late afternoon sky. They both finally got upright and to a stop. Jack’s uninjured hand fisted in her hair, his other at her waist.
“You came for me,” he said in a low voice that melted into her skin.
“Of course…I love you.”
The sun was already moving past some of the buildings behind them, the low light setting a mood, sparking arousal amid danger. She should get her head checked out, but this hit all her high-risk preferred tendencies.
“You two care to save the declarations and smooching for when we’re out of danger and get in the damn hauler!” Drag’s voice cleared away her momentary lust and she stepped out of Jack’s embrace.
He frowned for a split second, then scooped her up against his body and carried her the rest of the way. She almost yelled at him to put her down, but the look of determination and devotion in his eyes, and the strength in his grip, kept her silent. Jack wrenched open the door to the hauler.
Only then did he set her down. She winked at him. “Your leg is feeling good, then?”
He smiled. “Get in the damn hauler.”
She hopped into the back seat and strapped a safety belt over her lap. The door to the building Jack had been held in burst open and Bridget stepped out. Her previously coiffed hairdo was in shambles, a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She had a gun trained on them.
“I’ll fucking shoot you all if you move. I’m a dead shot, won every quick-draw contest. You can ask your fearless leader.”
Drag’s loud obnoxious laugh echoed around her as he leaned back in the driver’s seat. “I’d love to see you try. My experience with you is that you’d rather someone else actually pull the trigger.”
“Oh, dare me do you?” She cocked the hammer back.
“Bridget, you’re so desperate, you’ve resorted to pointing guns at people. When you know damn well I like to fight other ways.” Drag winked at her and she pointed the gun at him this time. Before she could pull the trigger, an explosion rocked the ground. Flames erupted from the building they’d come from, then smoke.
“We’re out of here, folks.” Drag took off as a second explosion shook the vehicle. “Might need to tell Snapper and Gina to dial it back a bit next time.”
“Snapper? Gina?” Jack glanced back at her. “Why did you haul everyone into this?”
“Me?” Shannon pointed at herself. “I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was willing to turn myself over to Bridget, give my life up in exchange for yours. They wouldn’t let me. Outright refusal. They wouldn’t even hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” He repositioned himself in the seat and held out his hand.
She put her hand in his and he squeezed gently. “And I don’t hate you. I said some things.”
He shook his head. “Stop… Just give me a minute. I was coming back for you. I realized I had some expectations and issues I was forcing onto you. You’re great and maybe a risk now and then isn’t so horrible.”
“Just tell her you’re sorry.” Drag gripped the steering wheel tighter as they raced across the terrain, the sun reflecting off the horizon in front of them. “Apologizing is far better than excuses.”
“And you would know how to deal with women, Drag? Your last romantic entanglement was going to shoot you.”
Shannon giggled. “Wait…him and Bridget?”
“Let’s stop talking about me and you two figure this shit out before we get back to Frog Lick. Do you love each other?”
Jack stared at her. His gaze still held the devotion she’d witnessed earlier. Totally different from how he’d looked at her when he’d walked away at the Trading Post. “Yeah, I love her. I want to make you an offer if you’re willing.”
“Talk boring to me,” Shannon replied, scooting to the edge of the seat as best she could.
“My house, we share it. You stay in Frog Lick and from time to time we venture out. Visit other gang-towns, learn more about the people around us. Spread a friendly word.”
Drag groaned. “We don’t need friendly words.”
“We do if we’re going to war with Macintosh, which is what you just did.”
Shannon stroked Jack’s cheek, loving the scruffiness from his unshaved face. “They said the commission won’t do anything—”
“It’s the lack of interference we need to worry about,” Jack said as he turned to press a kiss to her fingers. “But…never mind that, back to us. A together cohabitation where we’re in it for the long haul. I can’t promise we won’t fight or disagree. But I’ll promise to do my darndest to give you the best sex you ever had.”
Shannon laughed. “I’d be a fool to say no then.”
“Seriously?” Drag asked. “All he has to promise you is sex?”
“No…I expect a lot more than that. But I know he’ll give it to me. He jacked this heart a long time ago.”
Jack grinned and kissed the back of her hand, nodding at the necklace. “I’m glad you kept it.”
“I won’t ever take it off. It brought me the most important thing in my life. You.”
“Get a room.” Drag groaned as they continued their journey.
“That’s the plan, as soon as we get back.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I don’t need a cybernetic pinky finger.” Jack slammed his empty mug on the table and wiped his chin.
“But you could have one.” Shannon was relentless, always, and he’d never been happier since returning to Frog Lick. Sure, the fact they were officially in a gang war with Macintosh didn’t ease anyone’s minds. In fact, there was a subtle discontent among the gang members, especially when Drag announced Jack wouldn’t race for the next regional.
