The air left Nina’s lungs. She straightened. When her eyes filled with tears, she crossed her arms tight and looked away from him.
“Ah.” Jack motioned to her with his fork, waiting for her to shoot a teary, hate-filled look at him from the corner of her eye. He held that hate-filled gaze while throwing her a false smile that, in its falsity, fell in an instant. “Mind your own damn business.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself to mind your own damn business, so be it.”
“You must fit right in at Jones Day.”
“Sounds personal. Is Jones Day representing your husband?”
“Mind your own damn business.” She tightened her crossed arms while leaning over the table, wagging her neck as she threw his words right back at him.
“There it is, doll.” He smirked. “You’re a quick study.”
She pushed her hair out of her eye, averting her angry gaze.
The moment she did, Jack cursed under his breath. The smirk on his face vanished.
Nina snuck a look. “Don’t try to apologize now. You’ve been telling me what a jerk you are from day one, and I officially believe you, okay? So let’s just get to the train and go our separate ways already.”
“No.” Jack motioned to his eye with two fingers, the frown on his face deepening.
Nina mirrored him, bringing her hand to her eye and brushing it with the beds of her fingers. She winced when pain shot through her, and then pushed her hair back over it. “Yeah, man…” she whispered. “You got me pretty good after we fell off that train. Right in the eye.”
“Goddamn it.” Jack bent deep into the table on one arm and reached across with the other, pushing her hair away from her eye again. Without a word, he pulled his hand away, seeing her curls plop back over her eye.
He held both of his hands up as if surrendering, his eyes jamming shut as he shook his head.
“I’m fine,” she laughed when he covered his face with his hands.
“I kicked you in the face.”
“We, literally, went careening over the edge of a train. It’s not like you did it on purpose.”
Jack fell back against the booth. “It’s going to be the size of a golf ball by tomorrow.”
“I’ll consider it a fun souvenir. Something to remember you by, once we go our separate ways.”
“I can’t believe I kicked a woman in the face. You know I would never do that purposely right?” He motioned across the table, eyes still lowered. “I would never hurt a woman…”
“Aries… I have known you for two days, and we’ve already shared a bed. If I didn’t know you were a good man, that never would have happened okay?”
He lifted his eyes to hers. “You don’t have the first clue what kind of man I am.”
She blinked, stunned.
His eyes went over her shoulder, and he motioned to someone, mouthing a request.
She grinned at him. “I know you just asked the waitress to bring a bag of ice for my eye.”
He fell back in his seat.
“So, yes, I do have some idea what kind of man you are, Runaway, and I know you’re not a bad one.”
***
Moments after the waitress dropped the Ziploc back of ice down in front of Jack; he moved to Nina’s side of the booth, sliding in next to her.
Her spine tightened as the booth became warmer, sending a layer of moisture collecting on every part of her body that responded to one glance from this man in an instant. As she snuck a look at him, it occurred to Nina that this was the closest they’d ever been to each other without a near death experience being the cause.
From far away, his brown eyes looked black, but close up they were a warm copper. A bronze that could bypass gold without even trying.
“I’m fine, Aries.” She barely heard the words leave her own mouth.
Those bronze eyes vanished as his thick lashes lowered. He studied the thick mountain of curls shading her eye, reached up and moved it away.
His face curled the moment he got a good look at the shiner up close.
“Is it really that bad? Or are you this big a wuss—” She hissed around the gentle sting of the ice when he pressed it against her eye.
He winced with her. “Easy,” he purred.
She took a deep breath, and the unbearable chill grew less and less painful. Maybe it was her body becoming accustomed to the cold, or pacified by the gentle feel of his other hand caressing her chin.
“Easy,” he said, more softly this time.
Nina’s eyes fluttered shut, and she turned her head to his fingers. He slid them up and down her cheek, so slowly she could feel his touch on every pore as he moved them under her chin, down her throat.
She swallowed.
In the distance, the bell over the diner door chimed to life, but Nina couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes to see who’d arrived. How could she, when Jack’s warm touch was retracing its path, back up her neck, along her chin and into her hair, where they got tangled up in her curls.
She felt him tugging her in and let her eyes flutter open, unable to stop a coy smile when she found his own eyes gently shut, those thick lashes tickling his strong cheeks.
She took a deep breath in, and her eyes flew over his shoulder at the sound of a snicker. Four bikers had just taken up residence at the table across from them.
“Nigger lover.”
The words were whispered, hardly discernible to the naked ear, but somehow, seemed like they’d been spoken over a loud speaker.
Not only did Jack’s eyes open, but they flew open, and he craned his neck to shoot a look over his shoulder.
Watching the side of his jaw muscles rolling under his skin, Nina’s heartbeat picked up. She clutched Jack’s arm, immediately appreciating the strength she had to put in as he tried to turn toward the four men.
“It’s not worth it,” she said. “Jack…”
Jack lowered the ice, the condensation from the bag dripping down his golden forearm. He removed his hand from Nina’s hair, clutching it in a fist the moment it was free.
“What was that?” Jack asked, turning toward the bikers.
Nina’s wide eyes flew from the back of Jack’s head to the table.
The bikers, all pasty-skinned and drowning in black leather, chortled under their breath. Three of them had the good sense to avoid eye contact. The one in the seat closest to Jack, however, with a long blond ponytail and an even longer beard, matched Jack’s gaze, leaning forward between the tables.
“When’s the last time your girl took a comb to her hair?” he asked.
Nina tightened her grip, thankful when Jack didn’t immediately lunge like she’d expected. When she heard his voice, she jammed her eyes shut.
“You see,” Jack started. “She and I aren’t from around here, which I’m sure you could tell right away since we aren’t a couple of inbred…”
Nina’s eyes widened, and she tightened her grip, feeling his bicep flex to twice its size.
“Redneck…”
“Jack,” she begged, through clenched teeth.
“Ass backward Sons of Anarchy rejects with nothing better to do than harass a woman who hasn’t done a goddamned thing to you.”
“No one is harassing anyone here, sir,” the blond’s southern accent picked up. “I’d just like to know if your girl ever plans on taking a comb to her hair; that’s all.” The biker shrugged, turning to his cackling table of friends before throwing Jack his snow blue eyes; wide with the innocence he’d clearly lost ages ago. “Just a question.”
Jack leaned forward as far as he could get from the grip Nina still had on his arm and motioned to her. “You need to apologize to her right now.”
The biker chuckled.
“Apologize,” Jack said. “Right now.”
The biker’s beaming smile only went brighter when he looked back to his friends. Their laughter climbed to full on howls; so obnoxious they caught the eyes of e
very patron in the building.
He turned back to Jack with a blinding smile, but that smile was gone in an instant when Jack lunged out of the booth, taking the cuffs of his leather jacket in a fierce grip and ripping him out of his seat.
Nina screamed, her hands frozen in mid-air, shocked at how quickly Jack had just moved.
Already halfway across the room, Jack dragged the blond to the door as he tripped, kicked and clawed for every table they passed.
Nina barreled out of the booth and went after Jack, cursing under her breath.
Behind her, she could hear the biker’s friends leaping from their seats too, the legs of their chairs squeaking against the tile floors.
The bell above the door chimed as Jack threw the blond biker into it, sending him stumbling onto the dirt road outside.
7
Nina raced outside just in time to see Jack’s fist fly across the biker’s face, sending blood spattering out of his mouth and flying through the sky. To Nina, it looked like the blood was moving in slow motion. Like she was watching a Hollywood movie with the best CGI team in the business, she could’ve sworn that the blood froze and floated in mid-air, just to give everyone watching a chance to understand what the fuck was happening.
The biker hit the ground face first, sending dust billowing up from the dirt road. When he rolled onto his back, muck clung to the blood on his mouth, dripping from his lips like a batch of bad pancake mix.
Nina didn’t even have a moment to be disgusted by the sight before Jack bent down, snatched at his collar, and sent a second fist soaring across his jaw.
Nina screamed.
Jack went to his knees in the dirt, taking the biker’s jacket into fists and yanking him forward until they were nose to nose.
“People like you should be exterminated,” Jack spat.
A second later, all three of the biker’s friends raced passed Nina.
“Jack, behind you,” Nina cried out, screaming when she realized her warning came too late.
One of them got Jack around the neck from behind, forcing him to his feet. The other two took hold of Jack’s arms, opening him to the blond—who was struggling to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Nina broke into a run just as the blond reared back and caught Jack with a left hook square in the eye, then an uppercut straight in the gut.
“Stop!” she screamed, jumping onto the blond’s back and wrapping her legs around his waist. She wrapped an arm around his neck and locked it in place, tightening until she heard him gagging. He staggered and nearly took her to the ground, but she didn’t loosen her hold. “Don’t you dare fucking touch him, you… you… you…” She couldn’t even think up a worthy insult, too stunned that people like this animal still existed. Her heart seemed to be pummeling buckets of blood to every part of her body but her brain, because she couldn’t think straight. All she saw in her mind were slurs, expletives, and grade school insults she’d learned when she was five—insults that didn’t hold quite enough weight with this group.
Taking her arm, the blond leaned forward at the hip, deep enough to unseat her and flip her onto her back.
Nina went flying, and just before she hit the ground on her back, she saw Jack rip his arm from one of the bikers hold, digging his shoes into the dirt as he fought to get at the blond, his strength nearly overpowering the three men that held him back.
“Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her,” his scream was hoarse against the arm tightening around his neck, arms flexed against the fists holding his back. “You goddamn redneck piece of worthless shit, I’m going to fucking kill you!”
As Nina rolled onto her side, cringing against the hard fall, a loud crack nearly split her eardrums open. She fell to her elbows with a shriek, shielding her head with her hands, eyes flying to the diner just in time to find their waitress leaning against the door with a rifle pointed at the sky. Billows of white smoke puffed out of the barrel.
She fired another shot.
The second crack made everyone freeze, even Jack, as all eyes found the waitress.
“That’s enough,” she said, in an authoritative tone of voice that was a touch too calm for a woman who’d just fired two gunshots. “That is enough, Gret. What in tarnation is on your mind?”
Nina’s eyes went back to the bikers. All of them had released Jack and were now shuffling from one foot to the other, avoiding the waitress’s eyes.
“What have I told you about bringing this nonsense into my diner, boy?” the waitress spat out of the corner of her mouth, keeping her wide blue eyes on the blond biker.
“Sorry, Mama,” the blond biker, who they now knew as “Gret”, mumbled.
“Get back inside and stop harassing my customers. I raised you better than that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The blond shot Jack, who was bent over at the waist, another sour look before limping back to the door of the diner.
Nina watched him go, enjoying the sight of his limp growing deeper, more pronounced, with every step he took. She hoped his fucking leg was broken.
His friends followed, passing the wall where dozens of diner patrons had their noses to the glass, watching the entire exchange.
The waitress waited until all four of the men had passed her, looking at each of them out of the corner of her eye, daring them to make one false move or say another word. None of them did. Only when they were all inside did she lower her rifle, stepping out and letting the door swing closed behind her.
“Fuck…”
Nina’s eyes flew to Jack, who was cursing under his breath, still bent over at the ankle, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye. She pushed herself onto her feet and raced over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He was still stumbling as if he believed staying in motion would make the pain shooting through him a little less intense. When she locked her arms around him, his weight made her stumble along with him.
“Jack, you didn’t have to do that.” She pressed her cheek into his back, tightening her hold. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“Yeah. Well. I did. And it hurts.”
“Ice?” Nina cried, looking toward the door. She was stunned to find the waitress already approaching them, rifle still at her side, holding out a fresh Ziploc bag of ice. Nina snatched the bag away, glaring at her, before leaning over and handing it to Jack. She made sure he had it over his eye before looking back up. “That reject was your son?”
The waitress sighed. “I’ve worked hard to keep him on the right track, on the up and up. To get him the hell out of this town. But it’s hard to keep your kids from getting tangled up with the wrong crowd in a small place like this. I don’t believe what he believes.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m still happy to get y’all to the train. Matter fact, I’ll even make the three-hour drive to the airport if you’d like. To make amends for my idiot boy.”
Nina straightened only when Jack did, groaning, as he stood tall. “Yeah, well, you and your racist asshole son can keep your racist asshole ride.” She tugged at Jack’s arm, pulling him away. “And we’re not paying for your bullshit food, either. Shit wasn’t even good. Come on, Jack.”
Jack let Nina tug him away, still holding the ice to his eye. When they were out of earshot, he gave her a look. “How the hell do you expect us to get to a train now?”
“I don’t know. What I do know is that we’re not taking anything from those white devils. Now stop ruining our dramatic exit.”
A few hundred feet into their dramatic exit, the diner was nothing but a speck in the distance, but Nina was still on a rampage, kicking at the grass under her feet as she moved.
“Fuck her and fuck her ride,” Nina roared, jabbing her finger toward the diner. “That was her son back there. Who the hell do you think taught him to be that way? He wasn’t born with those inbred, redneck, mayonnaise monster tendencies. Someone taught him to be that way. Just because she says she didn’t doesn’t make it true.” Nina huffed as she retraced th
eir steps from earlier in the day, hearing Jack’s shoes crunching into the grass behind her. “Besides, I have a better idea.”
“All due respect, that doesn’t bring me very much confidence.” Jack made a face when she turned to him. “And did you just say mayonnaise monster?”
“You can keep that one,” she said, pointing to the smile he was trying to hide. “Free of charge. Now come on. I have an idea. Trust me.”
***
Minutes later, they sat at the edge of the train tracks with Jack’s long legs stretched out on either side of Nina, and Nina between them with her legs crossed Indian style. The high noon sun blazed down without relent, sending dots of perspiration collecting across their foreheads, the bridges of their noses and all over their bodies as they passed the rapidly melting ice pack, back and forth.
“Thanks for sticking up for me back there,” she said. “Guess he got you pretty good, huh?”
“I’ll be alright.” Jack winced around the ice as he readjusted it over his eye. “You should see the other guy.”
“Yeah, I saw the other guy. Hardly able to hobble away like the coward he is after you busted him right in his big fat mouth. I’ve never seen you so alive. No idea you had it in you.”
“Expect an invoice within the week.”
She howled. “If I’d known there was a charge for your services, I’d have clocked him in the mouth my damn self.”
He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, passing her the ice pack.
Nina watched him wince, concluding he’d found yet another injury.
“We look like a couple of goddamn degenerates,” Jack mumbled, shaking off the water that had dripped down his arm. “Like a domestic disaster.”
She pressed the pack her eye, squinting against the dull sting that permeated her skull the moment she did. “At least whoever sees the two of us will know not to fuck with us. They’ll assume you’re a man who beats his wife, and that I’m the wife who beats back.”
Jack’s lips tightened, and he looked away.
“It’s just a joke,” she mumbled, seeing his rapid change in demeanor.
Lightning Strikes (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy #3) Page 9