Page 83 of The Beauty and the Boxer
Without giving the man a moment to reply, oreven think, Jack pulled his arm back and, in a blink, knocked himout cold.
A scuffle nearly broke out, as it usuallywould when the prospect of violence reared itself in publicdrinking houses. Luckily, the brawl was large enough for Jack’stask to go unnoticed as he grabbed the unconscious man and draggedhim to the back of the bar, down a narrow hallway that led out intothe back alley. Seeing as the man who owned the bar used to be asparring partner of Jack’s, he was able to pull the man out of thepub without much notice. He tossed Clyde’s body into the brick wallof the neighboring building just as he began to wake up from hisstupor.
“I’m-I’m being robbed,” he said weakly ashis head lolled back.
“You should be,” Jack hissed at him. “Butno. I’m going to let you keep all your money.” Jack pulled a wad offolded bills from his pocket and tossed at him. “But not fornothing.”
“Wh-what?”
“You’re no longer allowed in the city limitsof Bristol, Clyde Peterson,” he said as a large, bald man came intothe room. It was Bishop. He nodded at Jack, who crouched down infront of Clyde’s face. “In fact, you may wish to leave England alltogether.”
“Why—”
“But that won’t do, either. What if you goto France or Italy? Too close, I feel. No, I think the other sideof the world would be the best place for someone like you.”
“Excuse me?” Clyde said, struggling to standas Jack threw him bodily against the side of the hackney. “Why areyou doing this?”
“To spare your life,” he said, his voicedangerously restrained. The memory of Meredith’s words echoed inthe back of his mind and he longed to end him. To squash him like abug. Instead, he leaned closer and made his voice low. “Because ifI see you again, hear from you again, I’ll kill you.”
Unadulterated fear and confusion shone inClyde’s light eyes.
“But why—”
“This here is Bishop. He’s a friend,” Jacksaid, ignoring him. “He’s going to take you to the law offices ofCompton and Andrews. They’re going to have you sign a few papersand then Bishop here is going to escort you to the docks. You’regetting on the first cutter headed for Australia.”
“Australia?” Clyde repeated in a daze. “Ican’t possibly go to Australia.”
But that was the wrong thing to say, becauseJack’s hand was on his throat in an instant, tempted to choke thevery life out of this vile man who had once laid a violent hand onhis Meredith.
“But you will,” he snarled through grittedteeth. “Because if you don’t, I’ll take an insurmountable pleasurein breaking your bones and burying you in a shallow grave.”
Clyde shook his head, trying to comprehendeverything that was happening to him.
“W-who are you?”
“Your saving grace,” Jack answered as heshoved him back, standing up. He nodded at Bishop. “If he tries torun, kill him.”
“Right,” Bishop said as he grabbed Clyde andpulled him to his feet.
Jack followed Bishop as he unceremoniouslythrew Clyde into the vehicle. With a final glare at Jack, he noddedand climbed in, slamming his fist onto the side of the vehicle asit pulled away.
Jack took a deep breath, exhalingerratically as he spread and flexed his fingers at his sides. Hewatched the hackney disappear out of sight before turning back tohead towards the tavern’s stables to find Drachma. He hadn’tphysically laid his hands on anyone like that outside of the ringsince his attack. Unconsciously, he touched the corner of hismouth, grazing his fingertips over the raised, unnaturally smoothmutilation.
Meredith’s husband would no longer be atrouble for her and as much as he wanted to tell her, he knew to doso would make her feel indebted to him and he didn’t want that.Perhaps he should have spoken to her before his actions, but heknew she would have stopped him, hoping to believe Clyde in amisguided attempt at civility. But Jack knew the kind of manMeredith’s husband was, regardless of his station of birth. Hewould never stop unless he was managed properly and Jack was morethan willing to handle the bastard.
Jack rode fast and returned to the officeswhere he spent the rest of the afternoon alone behind his desk. Hewas agitated and confused. The longer he stayed alone, the moreuncomfortable he became and unsure what he was waiting for, he hada drink and then another and another until he was stinking drunk.Sometime after the sun went down Bishop showed up.
“He’s gone,” he said, coming into the roomto pour himself a drink. “I watched until the light of the ship wasover the horizon and told the captain that he would be compensatedto make sure that he made it to Australia.”
“Thank you, Bishop.”
He handed him a folded punch of papers.
“These belong to Miss Taylor, I suppose,” hesaid as Jack took them.
“They do.” Jack took the unopened documents.“Thank you.”
“Not at all,” he said, taking a sip of hisscotch. “I’ll tell you, he didn’t want to go, but he went.” Hefinished the drink. “So, what do you say about a round nextThursday?”
