Page 12 of Rush Turner
The door splintered on the third kick. Cheap lock. Old frame. Didn’t matter — I was ready.
The instant that punk staggered through the busted threshold, I moved.
One hand slammed him face-first into the wall. He grunted, tried to twist out, but I pinned his wrist so high behind his back he squealed like a stuck pig.
“You must be the stalker,” I growled in his ear. My calm voice was long gone — replaced by something low and lethal. “Bad timing, pal. She’s busy.”
He thrashed. I cranked his arm higher. A muffled sob choked out of him. Good.
I didn’t bother glancing back — I knew Jessa was safe, curled under her bed just like I told her—smart, stubborn girl.
“You break into her place again,” I hissed, pressing my forearm into his neck, “and I’ll break every bone you’ve got twice. And trust me — no one’s gonna find where I bury the pieces.”
He squeaked. “You can’t—”
I slammed him harder into the drywall, cracking the cheap plaster. He squealed again.
“You wanna test me, Romeo?”
JESSA
I heardeverything.
The door. The crash. Rush’s voice — dark and cold and terrifyingly calm. Not the patient man who cooked me bacon or carried me to the couch. This was another side. One that made my lungs seize and my heart do backflips all at once. His Navy SEAL came out.
I crawled out just in time to see him drag my sister’s stalker — limp, whimpering — through the busted doorway like a sack of garbage.
Rush spotted me, standing barefoot in my hallway, tears drying on my cheeks. For a second, his eyes softened — just for me — before snapping back to lethal as he bent close to Joanie’s stalkers ear.
“Say goodbye to the lady, tough guy.”
The ex whimpered something pathetic. Rush yanked him out the door, one massive hand fisted in the guy’s hoodie like he weighed nothing.
RUSH
I dumped the idiot at the curb, pressing a knee to his chest as I dialed a buddy from the local sheriff’s department.
“Hey Ben, I got a restraining order violation and a break and entry,” I gave him the address. “Yeah, he’s all gift-wrapped for you. Better bring cuffs and a mop.”
He tried to squirm. Igentlyknocked his head against the gravel once. He went still.
When I shutthe busted door behind me, Jessa was exactly where I left her: frozen mid-hallway, staring at me like she’d never really seen me before.
I crossed to her, ignoring the ache in my knuckles and the fact that my pulse was still a drumbeat of kill-mode adrenaline.
“You okay?” I rasped, voice rough from growling threats into drywall.
She blinked at me — then launched forward, burying herself against my chest so hard I nearly staggered.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into my neck. “I should’ve told you. I was so scared he’d find me—or Joanie.”
I wrapped my arms around her tightly. One hand buried in her hair, the other pressed flat to her lower back like I could fuse us together if I held her hard enough.
“Shh, sunshine. It’s done. He’ll never touch you. Not while I breathe.”
She tipped her head back. Her eyes shone wet but steady. “You can’t promise that.”
I cupped her jaw, brushing my thumb over her lips. “On my life, I promise that.”
