Page 84 of Until Forever

He turns toward me, and I swing, cracking the side of his head against the cold metal.

“Ahh,” he cries out, holding his head.

He’s stunned but tries to reach for his gun anyway, but the blow slows him down. I hit him one more time, sending him crashing awkwardly to the ground, the top of his body slumped against the door.

I remove his gun and check the clip, finding that it’s full. Dropping the bat next to the tire, I glance around once more, then make my way toward the warehouse. There are several large barrels lining the front with vines growing up the length of the building.

I inch the door open, peeking inside. There’s talking in the distance, but only coming from one person. Then comes JJ’s voice, and I rush inside.

“I want my mommy,” he cries.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Scar yells, and JJ whimpers.

I cock the gun, this time standing up straight and stomping to the back of the room. My footfalls are loud on the concert floor, but he doesn’t suspect me. My guess is Scar thinks I’m his partner because he never peeks his head out to check.

There’s an office of some sort toward the back. The door is cracked, and through it, I spot JJ sitting in a chair in the corner. Scar’s back is to the door, and he’s messing with something on the rusted metal folding table. JJ’s eyes grow wide the moment he sees me, but I raise a finger to my lips to quiet him.

“Close your eyes,” I mouth and gesture to my own so he understands.

He does and squeezes his lids shut. One large step forward, and I have the barrel of the gun pressed to the back of Scar’s head.

“What the hell,” he curses and tries to turn to look at me.

“Don’t move,” I order.

He’s still for a moment, his arms out at his sides, but then he throws his elbow back, catching me by surprise. I balance myself in time to block his punch, landing one of my own with my non-dominant hand.

I back out of the room, wanting to put as much distance as possible between JJ and us. I plan to kill this bitch, and my boy doesn’t need to see that.

“Guess you’re smarter than I thought,” Scar teases while checking his lip for blood. “Stupid, but smarter than I expected. You’re brave showing up here by yourself.”

“You took my kid, and I’ll always find him.”

He chuckles. “It didn’t even have to be like this. All you had to do was pay, and I would have never touched him.”

Scar reaches behind him, but I don’t wait to see what for and ram into him. We hit the floor, and both guns fly across the room. Shoving my elbow into his neck, I pin him in place while slamming my fist into his nose.

He roars in pain then brings his knee into my spine hard enough for me to buckle and flip our position. I block his punches until he hits me in the rib. I flinch but throw my next blow to the side of his face. He falls off of me, and I kick him in the chest to give me enough time to get back to my feet.

I sway a little, my chest pumping hard from the adrenaline. I draw my foot back and crush the tip of my shoe to his face. Blood splatters over the bottom of my jeans. Scar grabs his mouth, shuffling around on the dust-riddled floor.

I spot one of the guns and make for it, but as I bend down to pick it up, he runs into me. I hit the steel beam in the center of the room, feeling the skin above my eye split. Blood trickles down my face, blurring my vision, but I stand tall despite the pain.

Scar rushes me again, stumbling into the beam after I move out of the way. A loud thud vibrates through the space as he drops to his knees. My balance is off, but I sway to him, hitting him at the nape of his neck.

He splats face-first into a pile of dust, groaning and twisting. I wobble my way to the Glock that’s only a few feet from where we are and grip the handle tight. I force Scar on his back, and he laughs then grunts when I put my weight on him.

“Look at me,” I demand.

He spits blood into my face, and I seethe.

“You threaten and put your hands on my son,” I grit out. “I’m going to kill you.”

He laughs again, which stops when I connect the butt of the gun with his temple. He doesn’t move, but I continue to hit him, over and over until all I can see or hear is his blood-soaked face and the sound of my blows.

“Jasper,” I hear my name in the distance, but I don’t stop.

It’s not until I’m yanked away from his limp frame that I snap out of my daze.

---