My heart punches hard against my ribs. Too loud. Too fast.
“Stop,” I whisper, but neither of them even looks at me.
“You think she wants a boy hiding behind guitars and daydreams? A boy that only came back here because mommy is dying and he wants to cash in her insurance?” Jacob goes on. “Or a man who’d bleed before he ever let her go?”
Benny shoves out of the booth. Heads swivel. Forks hang over plates. The whole room exhales and holds it.
“Let’s take this outside.” Fury sits under Benny’s words, controlled but ready to break.
Across from him, I freeze. “No,” I whisper, but it’s too thin, too weak. Too late.
Jacob rises, slow as smoke curling from a fire. Every movement deliberate. A man not only unafraid of a fight, but hungry for one. He drains the last of his glass, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and drops two hundreds onto the table without even looking.
“You sure that’s what you want?” His gaze flicks to Benny, “Because once we step outside, the game’s over. No badge, no polite warning. Just me—and trust me, you don’t walk away from that.”
Adelaide clamps onto Benny’s arm; her nails bite into his skin. “Don’t,” she hisses. “He’s baiting you.” Constance is already moving, urgent and panicked. “You’ll get arrested, Benny.”
But Benny’s not listening. His eyes are locked on Jacob, unblinking, reckless. Like the rest of the world has fallen away.
“I’m not scared of you,” he spits.
Jacob’s laugh is quiet. Deadly. He tilts his head, a wolf scenting blood. “You should be.”
“Outside,” Benny growls. “We’re finishing this now.”
Constance edges toward the door anyway, muttering under her breath, “This is gonna get someone killed.”
Panic claws through my chest. “Don’t Jacob. Please—don’t do this.” I call after him.
But he doesn’t look at me. He moves slow, his boots echoing against the tile. When he pushes open the door, the bell above it jingles.
We spill into the gravel lot behind the restaurant. The air is thick and hot, buzzing with cicadas, tainted with oil and dust. My lungs can’t seem to hold enough of it. Jacob stops dead center, then reaches to unclip his badge from his belt. The metallic snap is too loud in the quiet. He doesn’t look at me when he tosses it, but his aim is perfect. It slaps against my chest, heavier than it should be. I clutch it in both hands, breath stuttering.
“I ain’t the sheriff right now,” he says, voice low, dark. “I’m the devil. And you just invited him out to play.”
From his pocket, he pulls his sunglasses and slides them on, as casual as if he’s stepping out for a smoke. He places a cigarette in his mouth and lights it before gesturing for Benny to come at him.
Benny’s look is feral, he appears even bigger out here, broader, like the night itself is wrapping around him. He lunges, swings with everything he has, a blow that could flatten most men.
But Jacob isn’t most men.
He shifts aside like it’s nothing—like Benny’s charging through molasses. His fist lashes out once, clean and vicious, landing square against Benny’s throat. The sound is muffled, wrong. Benny collapses instantly, choking on air that won’t come. He hits the gravel hard, hands clawing at his neck, legs kicking.
Adelaide gasps, covering her mouth. Constance curses under her breath, frozen on the spot. And Jacob? Jacob laughs and takes a drag of his cigarette.
He drops to one knee, planting it against Benny’s chest, pinninghim like a lion pressing down on prey. He leans there, unhurried, and finally turns his head toward us.
That smile—God, help me—it’s pure violence dressed up as charm.
My stomach twists with guilt, pity burning hot for Benny sprawled beneath him. But at the same time—shame coils through me, pungent and unbearable—because my pulse is racing for an entirely different reason. Because watching Jacob dismantle a giant of a man with one effortless strike lights up something dark inside me.
Something that feels too much like desire.
Chapter 14
The Devil Unclipped
Jacob
