Page 84 of Hard Knock Hero

“Probably. But I’d rather be stupid than sell out Jessi to buy my freedom. I care about her. I—”

“You what? You’d throw your life away for her, just on principle?”

I turned around and went back to the metal bench. Sat my weight heavily on it. “Yep. That isexactlywhat I would do.”

I was right on the edge of something. Some big realization. A decision. Things were swirling around in my head. A storm that wouldn’t settle.

I’d been the same guy for thirty years. My siblings would’ve told you. Jake used to call me an ornery little shit. I was being one right now. But I was also different. These past several days with Jessi had done something to me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. All I knew was that I would never choose my own wellbeing over hers.

Jessi.My Jessi.

It was worse than Sawyer even knew.

“This is your one chance,” Sawyer said. “I can’t account for what might happen next. Or what else my nephews might do.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold cinderblock. “Guess I’ll just have to wait and find out.”

* * *

I knew something would happen. I just didn’t know when.

After a while, the long night caught up with me. I dozed. The officer guarding me binge-watched some TV show on his phone. Episode after episode played in the background, accentuated by the guy sniffing his nose or coughing.

Then the noise suddenly stopped, and that’s when I woke. A second later, the lights shut out, plunging the entire cell block into darkness. That made me sit bolt-upright. Shit was about to go down.

A hinge moved. Someone had just opened the door into the cell block.

I got off the cot and crouched behind the end of it. Footsteps padded toward me. Stopped outside my cell. I saw a faint shape behind the bars, and a flashlight flipped on, the beam fixing on me. Beyond the bright light was Chester Rigsby’s face, bandage and all.

He pointed a gun at me.

This was not good.

“Look what we have here. Not so big and brave now, are you?” Chester stood close to the bars. I would have to rush him.Fast. Try to get the gun away. He’d probably get off a shot or two, but it was also probable he would miss unless he was an excellent shot against a moving target. And the truth was that most people weren’t.

He opened his mouth, probably to spout more triumphant nonsense. I tensed my muscles to spring at him. But before I could make a move, the flashlight beam abruptly lurched upward to the ceiling, then fell to the ground and winked off.

There was a choked-off gasp. A rapid clicking sound. A crash.

Then another flashlight flicked on. Trace stood outside of my cell with a taser in his hand. He tossed the taser onto Chester, who lay in a heap on the ground.

My pulse thudded. “Thanks,” I said.

“No problem.” He bent to pick up Chester’s gun. “I’ll be right back.”

When Trace turned around, I caught a glimpse of another handgun in a holster at his lower back. He hadn’t even drawn it. I approached the bars, and Trace returned a moment later with a set of keys and a pair of handcuffs. He opened my cell with the keys, then used the cuffs to secure Chester’s wrists.

“Give me a hand?” he asked.

Together, we dragged Chester into my cell.

I had many questions, but only one was pressing. “Where’s the officer who was guarding me?”

“He stepped outside the jail just as Chester came in. I was watching from the roof of the building across the street. I’d expected Chester would wait until the shift change, but having an inside man worked even better. The guy switched off the cameras and everything. Very convenient. For Chester, and for us.”

We went into the small lobby. The guard lay on his back on the floor, passed out, hands cuffed behind him. His taser holster was empty.

“You used a submission hold on the guard?” I asked. I could just imagine Trace sneaking up behind the guy and cutting off his airway until he passed out. I bet Trace hadn’t even broken a sweat.

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