JILLIAN
Panicked, my fingers stiffen and the bowl slips from my hands and crashes to the floor.
Jinx hisses and runs out of the room.
My heart slams against my chest in slow motion, that mere act of breathing painful.
“Jillian?” Zeek questions, concerned.
“Don’t answer.” The cold steel presses into my jugular, every swallow stinging. I close my eyes, a tear slipping from my left eye. I lift myself on my tiptoes to keep the sharp edge from pushing into my skin, but it’s doing no good with the way the man is breathing so harshly. Every pant causes the cold blade to press into my skin.
The man starts shuffling backward, heading toward my back door.
“Please, no,” I whimper.
Applying pressure to the knife, my neck floods with pain, making me regret my decision to speak.
“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts.
“Babe?” Zeek steps into the kitchen, and relief floods my limbs, an uncontrollable sob leaving my mouth.
In one quick move, Zeek draws a gun from his back, pointing it at the guy. The man behind me suddenly points a nine millimeter at Zeek, a tattoo of a crow or something on top of his hand.
My eyes widen. That tattoo.
“Jacob Gentry. Brown hair, green eyes. Six foot, three inches. Has a tattoo of a crow on the back of his right hand.” Alessandra’s description of the guy with the warrant out floods my memory. He’s the man she was looking for today.
“You’re dead,” Zeek rasps, his eyes dark, that animalistic look taking over his whole body. “You were stupid to try and kill me, but now, you’re just committing suicide by touching my girl.”
“I think you tried to kill me once already,” the man sneers, stepping in front of the back door.
“You’re mistaken. I didn’t put that bullet in your chest, ‘cause I don’t miss. But I’m going to enjoy being the one to rip that last pathetic breath from your lungs.”
The man laughs and throws his head back.
A shot rings out, and Jacob falls to the ground behind me. I jump forward, falling into Zeek’s arms, tears springing to my eyes. My ears ring, and my head pounds. My vision is so blurry, I squeeze my eyes shut to make it stop.
Zeek cups my cheeks and looks me all over. My lips tremble, my hands shaky as I try to hold onto him. His lips are moving, saying something, but I can’t make it out.
“Jillian, are you okay?” Sound finally fills my ears, and I nod frantically, clinging to him like a lifeline. This was my first near-death experience. They say you have many when you’re a sheriff, something I eagerly agreed to when I signed up, but now I’m not so eager.
Lowering his hand, he thumbs my neck.
“You’re bleeding.” His face goes hard, his eyebrows slowly pinching together. His eyes cloud over with that look he gets when he’s unstoppable. Much like the Hulk, but instead of turning green, Zeek, turns dark. His eyes mimic his train of thought—there is none. His only focus is releasing his fury, and drawing blood.
Looking over my shoulder, he steps around me and marches angrily toward the body on the floor. He aims his gun at the guy, shooting another bullet into his skull. I jump and look away, my heart resuming its panicking pace.
“I’m sorry this happened, Jillian,” he mutters. Balling my hands under my chin in an act of security, I look back at him. His eyes are trained on Gentry, willing the guy to come back to life so he can take it away again.
“I’m sure you’re used to this kind of thing, though.” He inhales a large breath and shoves the gun in the back of his jeans.
“No-no, I’m not,” I stutter, my eyes falling on the head that is exploded across my kitchen floor. “They prepare you for this kind of thing, yes, but I just froze when he grabbed me. I should have fought back. I’ve never—”
Cool hands grip both side of my head, Zeek’s concerned face coming into my line of sight.
“Breathe. I’m here, Jillian. I’m always here, and I will never let someone hurt you. Ever. You reacted perfectly. If you had tried to fight him, he would have killed you. Then I would be dead, because I would have turned him inside out, along with anyone who came in sight. My guilt would never ease if I lost you because of who I am. ”
I lick at a tear sitting on my lip and just nod, not sure what to say or do. My emotions are running rampant to the point I can feel myself shutting down, trying to regain control.
I knew being a sheriff I would see a life taken right in front of me. I just never expected it to happen in my own home, or by the hands of someone I care about.
My kitchen just became a crime scene.
ZEEK
“That’s the guy Alessandra said they were looking for today,” Jillian states, her back turned toward me.
We couldn’t find the fucker, so I resorted to my resources—the dirty cops in my pocket. I ball my fists, wishing I could have taken the life from this fucker a whole lot slower.
“I need to call this in, explain what happened. It was self –”
“No!” I interject.