Savor the Danger
Page 54
“Right.” Eyes narrowed, Tobin turned his face away.
So pathetic. Jackson drove his fist into Tobin’s gut. He doubled over, wheezing, one hand reaching out for support against the wall. “Next one will break your nose.”
Tobin gasped, “I wanted to impress her, that’s all.”
“Yeah, squashing her flowers ought to do it.”
Stupidly, Tobin looked at the crushed landscaping. “I’ll buy her new flowers.”
“The hell you will.” No way would Jackson let Marc Tobin anywhere near Alani. He grabbed Tobin’s hair and pulled his face up for emphasis. “You’ll never see her again, you moron. You’re going to be rotting in jail.”
“I only wanted to scare her, okay? That’s all.”
Jackson released him with a shove. “No, it’s not okay.”
Marc rubbed his face, eyeing Jackson warily.
“Should I kill you now, or beat the answers out of you?”
He must’ve sounded convincing, because Tobin rushed to say, “I disabled the meter, and then I was going to heft a rock through the window. I figured you were in bed, but I was looking in to make sure. I assumed if you were asleep, and with the house dark, it’d take you a few minutes to even think to check the meter.” And with accusation, “Why the hell didn’t you check the fuse box first?”
“Because I’m not a numb-nuts like you.” Jackson studied him. “How was this going to help you any?”
Like a rat, Tobin’s gaze searched everywhere. “Shouldn’t we talk inside?”
The fine hairs on Jackson’s nape tingled. Trouble. Trouble beyond what Tobin brought.
No way in hell would he bring danger into Alani’s home.
Grabbing Tobin by the shoulder, Jackson turned so that Tobin’s back faced the blackness beyond the yard, and shielded his body. That afforded him a little protection, and an opportunity to grill Tobin.
Alarmed, Tobin said, “I know what happened to Alani.”
Jackson said nothing; he found it very hard to believe that Alani might have confided in him.
Tobin nodded frantically. “She told me. I know that’s why she couldn’t—wouldn’t—get physical with me. But I figured if bad shit followed you, she’d get tired of you and your redneck manner, and come back to me, where it’s safer.”
A red haze filled Jackson’s vision. Alani had been through enough. “So you were going to do more of this shit?”
Pained, squirming in nervousness, Tobin nodded. “Yes, sure. That was the plan, yes.”
Slowly, Jackson put the gun back in his hand, his finger on the trigger. Low, mean, he asked, “That’s the best you could come up with?”
“What?”
“Not buying it, Tobin.”
“It’s true!”
“Part of it, maybe.” There was a rock on the ground by Tobin’s feet, and he had no weapons on him. But he was rich enough that if he’d wanted to terrorize Alani he’d have hired some grunt to do it for him.
Jackson pressed the tip of the knife to Tobin’s windpipe and leaned down to growl right into his face, “I should have done more to you earlier today. I should have broken your damn nose at the very least.”
“No.” Tobin flinched back, ready to run if it came to that, though even he knew he wouldn’t get far. “What will you do?”
Knowing he needed more answers, Jackson tamped down his rage. “Undecided.” He sawed his teeth together. “The least you deserve is for me to beat the shit out of you.”
Tobin quickened with regained dignity. “A fight, mano a mano? No police, and without the knife or…” He flicked his gaze to the Beretta. “The gun?”
“We’ll see.” Shooting Marc, just once, would feel real good. Course, using his fists on him would be nice, too.
“I’ll accept a fight.” Urgent, Tobin straightened to his full height, which was a few inches shorter than Jackson.
“You’ll do as you’re told.” Jackson lowered the knife. “First, plug the meter back in.” He needed the yard lit, to help ward off any other threat.
Tobin tried to put distance between himself and Jackson, but he wasn’t successful. Jackson stuck close, dividing his attention between Tobin and the wide-open yard.
“This is partly your fault.” Annihilating more flowers, Tobin stomped over to the meter box, his attitude defiant but wary. “She cares about me, you know. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have left me.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jackson prickled under the growing sense of menace. Not from Tobin—but then, who? Come out, you cowardly bastard, Jackson thought. Come out and show yourself.
“It was only because of what she went through, the kidnapping and everything, that she didn’t want to pursue our relationship.”
“You’re history, end of story.”
Marc jammed in the meter. “You’re probably the reason she got kidnapped.” As the house hummed back to life, Tobin continued to prattle and turned to Jackson. “Anyone can see that you’re dangerous. Look at your weapons! Do you even have permits for that—” Suddenly sidetracked, Tobin went mute and froze.
Ready to engage any threat, Jackson followed Tobin’s line of vision and saw Alani standing in the open sliders. His mouth went dry.
Rather than stay in the bedroom—in the bed—as he’d ordered, she’d pulled on a sleeveless white nightgown and followed him. She’d also flipped on the kitchen ceiling switch, leaving her slim, shapely form backlit, rendering her gown all but transparent.
So pathetic. Jackson drove his fist into Tobin’s gut. He doubled over, wheezing, one hand reaching out for support against the wall. “Next one will break your nose.”
Tobin gasped, “I wanted to impress her, that’s all.”
“Yeah, squashing her flowers ought to do it.”
Stupidly, Tobin looked at the crushed landscaping. “I’ll buy her new flowers.”
“The hell you will.” No way would Jackson let Marc Tobin anywhere near Alani. He grabbed Tobin’s hair and pulled his face up for emphasis. “You’ll never see her again, you moron. You’re going to be rotting in jail.”
“I only wanted to scare her, okay? That’s all.”
Jackson released him with a shove. “No, it’s not okay.”
Marc rubbed his face, eyeing Jackson warily.
“Should I kill you now, or beat the answers out of you?”
He must’ve sounded convincing, because Tobin rushed to say, “I disabled the meter, and then I was going to heft a rock through the window. I figured you were in bed, but I was looking in to make sure. I assumed if you were asleep, and with the house dark, it’d take you a few minutes to even think to check the meter.” And with accusation, “Why the hell didn’t you check the fuse box first?”
“Because I’m not a numb-nuts like you.” Jackson studied him. “How was this going to help you any?”
Like a rat, Tobin’s gaze searched everywhere. “Shouldn’t we talk inside?”
The fine hairs on Jackson’s nape tingled. Trouble. Trouble beyond what Tobin brought.
No way in hell would he bring danger into Alani’s home.
Grabbing Tobin by the shoulder, Jackson turned so that Tobin’s back faced the blackness beyond the yard, and shielded his body. That afforded him a little protection, and an opportunity to grill Tobin.
Alarmed, Tobin said, “I know what happened to Alani.”
Jackson said nothing; he found it very hard to believe that Alani might have confided in him.
Tobin nodded frantically. “She told me. I know that’s why she couldn’t—wouldn’t—get physical with me. But I figured if bad shit followed you, she’d get tired of you and your redneck manner, and come back to me, where it’s safer.”
A red haze filled Jackson’s vision. Alani had been through enough. “So you were going to do more of this shit?”
Pained, squirming in nervousness, Tobin nodded. “Yes, sure. That was the plan, yes.”
Slowly, Jackson put the gun back in his hand, his finger on the trigger. Low, mean, he asked, “That’s the best you could come up with?”
“What?”
“Not buying it, Tobin.”
“It’s true!”
“Part of it, maybe.” There was a rock on the ground by Tobin’s feet, and he had no weapons on him. But he was rich enough that if he’d wanted to terrorize Alani he’d have hired some grunt to do it for him.
Jackson pressed the tip of the knife to Tobin’s windpipe and leaned down to growl right into his face, “I should have done more to you earlier today. I should have broken your damn nose at the very least.”
“No.” Tobin flinched back, ready to run if it came to that, though even he knew he wouldn’t get far. “What will you do?”
Knowing he needed more answers, Jackson tamped down his rage. “Undecided.” He sawed his teeth together. “The least you deserve is for me to beat the shit out of you.”
Tobin quickened with regained dignity. “A fight, mano a mano? No police, and without the knife or…” He flicked his gaze to the Beretta. “The gun?”
“We’ll see.” Shooting Marc, just once, would feel real good. Course, using his fists on him would be nice, too.
“I’ll accept a fight.” Urgent, Tobin straightened to his full height, which was a few inches shorter than Jackson.
“You’ll do as you’re told.” Jackson lowered the knife. “First, plug the meter back in.” He needed the yard lit, to help ward off any other threat.
Tobin tried to put distance between himself and Jackson, but he wasn’t successful. Jackson stuck close, dividing his attention between Tobin and the wide-open yard.
“This is partly your fault.” Annihilating more flowers, Tobin stomped over to the meter box, his attitude defiant but wary. “She cares about me, you know. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have left me.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jackson prickled under the growing sense of menace. Not from Tobin—but then, who? Come out, you cowardly bastard, Jackson thought. Come out and show yourself.
“It was only because of what she went through, the kidnapping and everything, that she didn’t want to pursue our relationship.”
“You’re history, end of story.”
Marc jammed in the meter. “You’re probably the reason she got kidnapped.” As the house hummed back to life, Tobin continued to prattle and turned to Jackson. “Anyone can see that you’re dangerous. Look at your weapons! Do you even have permits for that—” Suddenly sidetracked, Tobin went mute and froze.
Ready to engage any threat, Jackson followed Tobin’s line of vision and saw Alani standing in the open sliders. His mouth went dry.
Rather than stay in the bedroom—in the bed—as he’d ordered, she’d pulled on a sleeveless white nightgown and followed him. She’d also flipped on the kitchen ceiling switch, leaving her slim, shapely form backlit, rendering her gown all but transparent.
