Page 33 of Betting Blind
Jack!
“Your brother owes our boss a lot of money,” the big guy says, drawing out the words with enjoyment. He’s like a panther playing with his prey as he circles Jack, who is breathing heavily.
The walking chimney squats right in front him. From where I’m hiding, I can barely make out the roughness of his voice. He says something to Jack quiet enough that I’m unable to hear and pauses to stand before he speaks again. “I don’t want to see your face in this establishment again unless you have every single cent Ben owes us. Got it?”
Jack lifts himself up on his knees, and I can see speckles of blood scattered across his shirt. My heart pounds so hard that I may pass out. Jack leans his head back, opening his eyes slightly as if he’s too weak to keep them open for long. “Fuck you,” he says with a bloody smile.
The big guy growls, planting his big foot in the center of Jack’s chest, forcing him to fall back flat. When he doesn’t get back up, the two men snarl at him and turn back toward the door where I’m currently eavesdropping.
Shit.
My mind races a hundred miles an hour. As quick as my feet will carry me, I sprint back toward the bathroom and just as I open the restroom door, I hear their laughter echo down the hall. My chest is heaving and I’m sweating profusely as I lean my back flat against the bathroom door and close my eyes. I hear their heavy footsteps pass where I’m trying to calm my racing heart, and I pray they continue walking.
“Please, please, please,” I chant on a breath. After several minutes, I carefully pull the bathroom door open and poke my head out into the empty hall. They’re gone.
My body thrumming with adrenaline, I sneak back toward the door that leads to where they left Jack. Regardless of my feelings about Jack’s involvement with this, I choke back tears at the sight of his limp form on the cold concrete. The wind is blowing lightly, giving the air a chill, and when I kneel next to him on the pavement, my arms break out in goosebumps.
His chest rises and falls gently as I look over his current condition. There’s blood lining his lips, and his upper body will likely be peppered with bruises. I lift his shirt and trace my fingers along his abdomen, searching for any serious injuries.
“Hey,” I whisper. Rolling his head toward me, he opens his eyes slightly. My voice wobbles. “Oh, Jack, I can’t believe they did this to you.”
“Don’t worry about me…” he croaks. “I’ve been through worse.”
I shudder to imagine. “We will make them pay for this. I swear it.”
He winces as I help him sit up, breathing unsteadily. “Easy, killer. Let’s handle… one problem… at a time.”
“I’m serious, Jack. I’m gonna kick their asses.”
“Don’t… make me laugh. Hurts.”
I shake my head. “How are you smiling right now?” He motions for me to help him stand, and I oblige. “Where’s your phone? I need to text Derrick to come help, and I don’t have his number. I want to get you out of here before those idiots come back.”
I gently pat his pockets, looking for the device, and he smiles faintly. “Trying to… make a move there, Cass?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
I text Derrick with Jack’s phone and as I’m waiting for his reply, the back doors fling open. Gasping, I attempt to lead Jack down part of the alley, but I’m unable to support his full weight. I pray for the second time tonight that we are lucky enough to escape these guys.
“Cassidy, wait!” I hear Derrick call after us.
“Oh, thank God!” I rush out on an exhale. “Here, help me carry him.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got him,” he says, but when I try to remove his arm from around my neck, Jack grunts, pulling me closer and shaking his head. The little action warms my heart a touch.
Derrick moves around to his other side. “What the hell happened, man?”
“Do you remember the guys Juliana and I told you about? They’re the assholes who jumped him. I don’t know how they knew he was here, but maybe one of the doormen told them,” I explain, knowing it’s difficult for Jack to speak. “They said Ben owes them money, and it sounded like it was a lot.” I nervously glance to Jack, but he neither confirms nor denies what I’ve said.
“Shit,” Derrick breathes as we make the trek to Jack’s truck. It feels like an eternity before we finally get there and when we do, I help Derrick get Jack into the passenger seat before settling myself in the back.
Derrick drives us back to The Pound, and I rub my nervous hands together as the scene plays repeatedly in my head. The images of them beating the hell out of Jack shake me to my core. I don’t know how to channel the direction of my thoughts or feelings, but I do know that I can’t abandon Jack now that I know these guys are after him and Ben.
I decide that I hate Ben. I don’t care that he’s Jack’s only brother or what a great guy he used to be. I hate him for doing this to Jack.
“I’ll take him home, Derrick. I’d like to make sure he’s okay,” I tell him when he steers off the highway into the parking lot.
Derrick’s gaze slides from the rearview mirror to Jack, who is resting his head against the glass with his eyes closed. “Alright,” he reluctantly agrees and gives me directions to Jack’s home. He gets out so I can trade places with him but stops me before I can take a seat.
