Serial Story: Jasmine Betrayal, Part 3
This story is presented weekly in draft (that means unedited)
format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is
done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your
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Part 1 | Part 2 |
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 3
Genevieve crouched just to the side of the open door of the dark office, watching her dubious rescuer run into the kitchen and glance at the freezer entrance on the opposite wall. Was he coming to let her out? The risk of being locked there indefinitely had been too much, and she’d chosen the office instead, arming herself with her father’s old shotgun. He’d always kept it loaded, and while it probably hadn’t been fired in many years, she figured it would still cause a decent amount of pain if she bludgeoned someone with it.
The back door creaked, a loud pop made her cringe and then the man was on the floor, arms outstretched with his gun trained on another man with a gun.
She didn’t think. Just leveled the rifle with the butt against her shoulder like she’d seen her dad do, aimed high, and pulled the trigger.
The next few seconds were a chaotic melange of sound, pain, motion and more pain before everything around her went black.
***
“Ms. Morano? Can you hear me? You need to wake up now...”
Genevieve opened her eyes, then groaned, squeezing them shut again as light lanced through her head like a lightening bolt.
“God that hurts. What happened?” Rolling to the side, she cautiously opened her eyes again, shielding the light with one hand as she met the mystery-man’s concerned gaze. “And who the heck are you? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to help you,” he said, reaching out a hand to help her sit up. “My name is Max Westlake, and you just shot one of the bad guys and saved my life.” The corners of his full lips turned up slightly, and she reminded herself not to stare. He was probably a great kisser.
“The recoil from that old rifle sent you flying into the side of a desk. You’re lucky the gun didn’t blow up in your face...and somehow you’re not bleeding, though I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a crack in your thick skull. You really should go to a hospital.”
She felt the back of her head, trying not to panic at what felt like a gigantic goose egg under her fingers. Lumps always felt bigger than they were, right?
“I should get some ice.” Moving carefully, Genevieve reached up and grasped the edge of the desk with one hand, and propped the other on a nearby chair. She managed to get a couple inches off the floor before everything started spinning and her stomach turned.
“Whoa...easy there.” Max caught her under the arms and lifted her into the chair as if she weighed nothing - which would be a blatant lie. He squatted down in front of her and she focused on his face, staring into those emerald eyes of his until everything around her stopped moving.
“I’m sure you saw the freezer,” she said, leaning back against the wall, careful not to let her head make contact. “Make yourself useful and grab a smaller bag of something frozen for me, would you?”
He didn’t say a word, just stood up and walked out. The man had a fine ass, she thought, smiling slightly as she watched him walk away. Broad shoulders too. Not that she had any business noticing. Trusting anyone at this point would be a foolish endeavor.
He came back and handed her a small bag of frozen french fries, and she held it gingerly to the back of her head. Staring past him, she saw the man on the floor laying in a thick, red lake.
Her stomach churned. “I killed him. Lord help me, I killed a man. That’s bad. That’s very bad.” She shook her head, each movement sending another painful throb through her skull as Max moved to block her vision.
“If you hadn’t, I would have,” he said, his tone hard. Confident. “And he would have killed me. You made the right choice, Ms. Morano. Your dad would agree.”
Genevieve blinked, frowning at him as the words sunk in. “How would you know that? Did you know my father? Is that why you’re here?”
Max nodded. “Your dad helped me once. Saved my life. I’m here to pay back that debt.”
“And him?” She pointed over Max’s shoulder. “The others I heard out front? Why are they here?”
“To kill you and take the diner. Charlie Jenkins doesn’t want your money. He wants this diner. More specifically, he wants the deed to this land.”
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is
done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your
favorite online retailers.
Part 1 | Part 2 |
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 3
Genevieve crouched just to the side of the open door of the dark office, watching her dubious rescuer run into the kitchen and glance at the freezer entrance on the opposite wall. Was he coming to let her out? The risk of being locked there indefinitely had been too much, and she’d chosen the office instead, arming herself with her father’s old shotgun. He’d always kept it loaded, and while it probably hadn’t been fired in many years, she figured it would still cause a decent amount of pain if she bludgeoned someone with it.
The back door creaked, a loud pop made her cringe and then the man was on the floor, arms outstretched with his gun trained on another man with a gun.
She didn’t think. Just leveled the rifle with the butt against her shoulder like she’d seen her dad do, aimed high, and pulled the trigger.
The next few seconds were a chaotic melange of sound, pain, motion and more pain before everything around her went black.
***
“Ms. Morano? Can you hear me? You need to wake up now...”
Genevieve opened her eyes, then groaned, squeezing them shut again as light lanced through her head like a lightening bolt.
“God that hurts. What happened?” Rolling to the side, she cautiously opened her eyes again, shielding the light with one hand as she met the mystery-man’s concerned gaze. “And who the heck are you? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to help you,” he said, reaching out a hand to help her sit up. “My name is Max Westlake, and you just shot one of the bad guys and saved my life.” The corners of his full lips turned up slightly, and she reminded herself not to stare. He was probably a great kisser.
“The recoil from that old rifle sent you flying into the side of a desk. You’re lucky the gun didn’t blow up in your face...and somehow you’re not bleeding, though I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a crack in your thick skull. You really should go to a hospital.”
She felt the back of her head, trying not to panic at what felt like a gigantic goose egg under her fingers. Lumps always felt bigger than they were, right?
“I should get some ice.” Moving carefully, Genevieve reached up and grasped the edge of the desk with one hand, and propped the other on a nearby chair. She managed to get a couple inches off the floor before everything started spinning and her stomach turned.
“Whoa...easy there.” Max caught her under the arms and lifted her into the chair as if she weighed nothing - which would be a blatant lie. He squatted down in front of her and she focused on his face, staring into those emerald eyes of his until everything around her stopped moving.
“I’m sure you saw the freezer,” she said, leaning back against the wall, careful not to let her head make contact. “Make yourself useful and grab a smaller bag of something frozen for me, would you?”
He didn’t say a word, just stood up and walked out. The man had a fine ass, she thought, smiling slightly as she watched him walk away. Broad shoulders too. Not that she had any business noticing. Trusting anyone at this point would be a foolish endeavor.
He came back and handed her a small bag of frozen french fries, and she held it gingerly to the back of her head. Staring past him, she saw the man on the floor laying in a thick, red lake.
Her stomach churned. “I killed him. Lord help me, I killed a man. That’s bad. That’s very bad.” She shook her head, each movement sending another painful throb through her skull as Max moved to block her vision.
“If you hadn’t, I would have,” he said, his tone hard. Confident. “And he would have killed me. You made the right choice, Ms. Morano. Your dad would agree.”
Genevieve blinked, frowning at him as the words sunk in. “How would you know that? Did you know my father? Is that why you’re here?”
Max nodded. “Your dad helped me once. Saved my life. I’m here to pay back that debt.”
“And him?” She pointed over Max’s shoulder. “The others I heard out front? Why are they here?”
“To kill you and take the diner. Charlie Jenkins doesn’t want your money. He wants this diner. More specifically, he wants the deed to this land.”
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