Chapter 66
Justice
Asurge of hope rushes through me as my foot connects with Marcus’s privates. I know that you don’t hit a guy once, and he’s down. I’m clamoring to bash his face with my fist when he knocks all the air from my chest.
“You were a little off the mark,” he snarls, slamming me back into the glossed stone.
In a frenzy, his fists clobber at my chest. One forearm shields my face. My arm lifts in a hook that collides with his chin. Marcus wriggles his jaw, catches my hand, and pins my wrist down with his knee.
“Fuck you,” I manage before his hands grip my throat. Head spinning from the pain, I panic. It’s only a matter of time before I’m knocked unconscious. I wiggle my left arm, freeing it from being held down. My fingertips brush across his prickled cheek.
C’mon, Justice. Gouge his eyes! You came out here without a damn gun. That’s on you.My thumbnail hooks into Marcus’s eyeball. He lifts one hand, and the pressure in my brain subsides for half a second. His fist rockets down into my nose.
“Sh-shit!” I scream, twisting my thumb into his eyeball. His hands flap around, and he’s tearing off me. Now, I climb onto him.
“You messed with the wrong bitch today, baby.” Like anchored bricks, my punches rain down on his face. I’m lifted from my straddling position as Marcus puts all his weight into rising. My eyeballs bug. Oh shit!
Though I’m jostled in my straddled position over him, his attempt to rise is thwarted. A baseball bat slices the air a fraction from my face. The smooth wood swooshes through the air again. It thunks onto Marcus’s forehead. Again, and again the bat comes down. I’m frozen, still mounted over his waist.
“Leave me the feck alone. Get outta my house. I’ll not let ya take me again!” Jamie screeches, his brogue backed with bite. “I hate ye! I hate ye! Ye can’t have me anymore!”
I’m still straddling Marcus as blood and wooden splinters from the Dodgers bat fly in all directions. Rooted on Marcus, I watch as Jamie goes apeshit on him. The tall, skinny kid is seized by a possession from long ago. It’s clear that he sees something, or someone, I don’t.
“I hate ye!”
Crunch and mushing sounds emit from the bat. Beneath me, I can no longer feel the intense hatred radiating from Marcus. His taut muscles have stilled like an ice-covered lake. I slide off what I know is a dead man, hand slicked with my blood, which runs down the side of my arm.
“Jamie . . . Jamie,” I croak. “We’re okay. You’re okay, baby. You did well, sweetheart. Marcus isn’t one of the . . . people who hurt you. Nolan brought you home, baby. Remember? Your family took care of those people, sweetheart.”
Splatters of crimson are all over his hands and shoulders. His dark blond hair falls into his face. He’s kneeled over Marcus’s bludgeoned, unidentifiable head. Jamie’s smooth face is like a canvas of splotched art. His prey’s blood drips from his chin and nose. Lips set in determination, his powerful forearms ascend in precision.
“Jamie, please stop,” I let out a ragged breath, fingertips shaking as I hold out a hand. “He can’t hurt you.”
And Jamie MacKenzie can’t hear me. He is somewhere else.
The bat touches down left of his mark. A good chunk of it fragments off. Splinters clash off the marble floor, and he’s left with wood digging into his palms. Jamie drops the bat and hops up.
“You’re okay, honey,” I tell him. My hand trembles. His arms swoop around me, chin settling on top of my head. With him embracing me so closely, I feel his heart slamming against the side of my cheek.
Out of the blue, Jamie intones, “I like your name . . . Justice.”
My heart turns into warm mush in my chest and melts away. Embracing him tighter, I say, “Well, I not only like your name, Jamie, but I love you. You saved my life! You saved us all.”
The French doors fly open. Brody’s puffed chest deflates as his eyes land on us. Behind him, Camdyn and Leith come barreling in. Bringing up the rear is a stranger whose long hair curtains his piercing eyes. The alluring stranger gives an audible sigh. They’re all visibly relieved.
My steps wobble backward as Brody snatches me up into his arm. The other brothers surround Jamie.
“Ye are good, bràthair,” Leith tells Jamie, tipping his chin.
“I did it!”
“You fucking did that, bro,” Camdyn says. “Didn’t I tell ya, nobody fucks with Jamie, yeah?”
While Brody crushes the side of my face, I watch Jamie’s head bobble. His brother’s championing him penetrates his steel exterior. An easy smile blooms as drops of blood continue to drip from his face.
“Yeah, I did it.” His Scottish accent is a little less menacing than before. With a confident smile, he nudges his chin to the bat. “Brody, Leith, Uncle Kieran, look. I did it.”
There are more hurried steps. Nan pops her head inside. The gun in her hand clatters to the ground.