French Quarter by Lacey Alexander (small books to read .TXT) 📕

She shook her head furiously. “Todd’s upstairs. He was waiting in my closet. He came out when I was changing clothes.”

Jack’s eyes turned instantly hard and black as he absorbed her words. His stance grew rigid and his hands curled into fists. “Did he hurt you?”

She thought vaguely about her sore arm, but knew she’d gotten off lucky. “No. Not quite. I mean…I think he was going to…but then I…” She couldn’t get anything sensible out of her mouth.

Yet it didn’t matter because Jack stepped inside, shut the door and headed to the stairs. By the time he reached the top, Todd was yelling, “Come back here, you bitch! I’m not done with you yet!”

Jack headed straight toward the voice and Liz frantically followed.

When she stepped in the room, Jack was hovering over Todd’s crumpled form. He looked back at her. “What happened to him, chere?”

“I kneed him in the balls.”

Even through his anger, she saw the admiration in his eyes. “Nice job. But it’s not half as bad as the little shit deserves.”

Jack reached for a robe on a nearby hook and tossed it to Liz, reminding her she wore nothing but a pair of white undies. She slid the silky beige robe on, cinching the tie tight in front.

“Get the hell out of here,” Todd suddenly spat at Jack from his place on the floor. “She’s mine and we don’t need an outsider interfering in our business.”

Jack looked from Todd to Liz and said in a surprisingly calm tone, “Darlin’, why don’t you give me just a few minutes alone with Todd here.”

Liz had no idea what Jack intended to do to Todd, but she hardly cared. This had been the scare of her life and she was more than ready to exit the room and leave the decisions in Jack’s hands.

* * * * *

Once she was gone, Jack looked down on the little creep and thought about what to do. He wanted to beat the shit out of him, wanted to pound him to an unrecognizable pulp. Given the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he thought he could do it with ease.

But he had to play this smart. Todd was the sort of “upstanding” guy who could sic the police on him, all the while seeming totally aboveboard with his suit and tie life of high finance. And even though a lot of the New Orleans police knew Jack—by reputation if not personally—some of them didn’t like him. They didn’t like a guy who could solve the cases they couldn’t, who could make them look bad at their profession.

He wanted to teach Todd a hard lesson, but he also didn’t want to go to jail for assault—not the least of which reason was that if he was in jail, who would keep Todd away from Liz?

Even so, as he stood there watching Todd slowly rise to his feet, he just couldn’t help himself—he pulled back his fist and slammed it squarely into Todd’s jaw. The blow knocked him back to the floor and again Jack thought of all the things he’d like to do to a guy who attacks women—his woman especially. When Todd once again stumbled to his feet, muttering, “You better back off, buddy, or you’ll be sorry,” Jack said, “No, Todd, you’re the sorry one,” and belted him in the gut.

Todd doubled over and Jack felt damn good as his fist began to ache from the contact with Todd’s jaw. It was satisfying to inflict pain on the asshole.

But he had to stop before he got carried away. So he simply dropped to one knee, hovering over Todd, and lifted him by his shirt collar. “Listen to me, you shithead. You’re gonna stop botherin’ Liz right now. In fact, you’re gonna do more than that. You’re gonna stay as far away from her as you physically can. ‘Cause if I find out you’ve so much as looked at her, let alone talked to her or touched her, I promise you’re gonna hurt a lot worse than you do right now. Got it?”

The man on the floor looked as if he might break into tears, but then he seemed to regain a bit of his usual pompous air. “Are you threatening me?”

Releasing Todd’s collar, Jack shrugged. “No, not me. You must have misunderstood. And if you bother tellin’ anyone about this, I guarantee that’s how it’ll come out. I’m pretty convincin’ when I need to be.” Jack leaned a little closer to Todd, tried to look a little more dangerous. “Now, do you get the message here? Do you understand that you’re gonna leave her alone?”

Todd still looked defiant, and Jack mentally dared him to disagree—it would be all the incentive he needed to rip the man to shreds, jail or no jail. But Todd finally said, “Yeah, sure, I got the message.”

 “Good. ‘Cause you know those balls Liz just kicked? Give me a reason and I’ll tear ‘em off and feed ‘em to you with a spoon.”

With that, he yanked Todd to his feet, handily bending one of the dickhead’s arms behind his back so he couldn’t break free of the hold. Without wasting anymore words on the little shit, Jack escorted him from the room. Liz stood by the stairs, eyes wide.

“This asshole won’t be botherin’ you anymore. Right?” He jerked hard on Todd’s arm.

“Yeah. Right.”

Accompanying Todd down the stairs, his arm still locked behind his back, Jack opened the big front door and gave the creep a shove. Todd stumbled down the front steps, landing on the walk. “Get the fuck outta here,” Jack said, “and don’t even think about comin’ back.” He slammed the door and locked it, looking up to see his sweet Liz padding down the steps on bare feet, the satiny robe hugging her curves.

He met her at the bottom and swept her into his arms in a huge, protective bear hug.

“Thank God you showed up when you did,” she whispered against