Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(22)
“Watch him now. See how he don’t let Jimmy in close? He’s seen Jim fight, he knows he can’t go in close. Jimmy will tear him like paper if he lets him get his arms on him, but Jackie’s got the longer reach, so he stays back, fights smart. THERE! Get him! Use your LEFT, Jackie!” Séan was standing up and shouting now, and Miriam looked from Séan to the crowd, and back, not quite understanding. Jack was bleeding from his mouth and nose, but he didn’t seem much slowed, and Jim was shaking his head like a confused bear, not bouncing on his toes as much as he had been at first. Jimmy charged again, and this time Jack swiveled out of the way and hit him on the cheekbone with a hard right, and Jimmy went down. Jack slumped back against the fence, and Miriam rushed over to him, a napkin in her hand, dabbing at his face. Jack stripped off his shirt, pressing a palm to his ribs. Miriam couldn’t help admiring his physique, shining with sweat and still heaving from exertion.
“What the hell was that, Jack?” she demanded.
Jack shook his head, too winded to speak. He leaned over and held a hand out for Jim, who took it and let Jack pull him upright. The brothers exchanged a glance, and Miriam could tell it was fraught with unspoken meaning, though she couldn’t tell what it meant. Jimmy nodded, dabbing at his lips with his wrist, and then he went in the house.
When he had caught his breath, Jack said, “That’s just my * brother being an *. It’s an old story that’s not worth telling. It happened a long time ago, and now it’s over.”
“But you had to fight him over it?” Miriam asked.
“Well, yeah. He’d have hit me, so I had to hit him first.” Jack said this as if it were obvious, like two plus two equals four. Miriam pressed the napkin to his nose, standing closer to him than she should if they were supposed to be just friends.
“Are you okay?”
Jack nodded, straightening. He hissed, though, and put his palm back to his ribs. “I think he bruised one of my ribs, but I’ll be fine.” Miriam watched him trying to ignore the pain, and she felt the coil of power in her belly unfurl, a feeling that was becoming familiar. The energy rushed through her body to her palm, and she pressed her hand against Jack’s side. She felt the heat buzz from her hand to his ribs, felt the break under her palm knit back together, the bruise fading and vanishing. His nose stopped bleeding, and his split lip healed. Jack looked from Miriam to his side, pressed a finger to his nose and lip, and looked back to Miriam. His eyes held a thousand questions, and Miriam didn’t have answers for any of them.
“I don’t know,” she whispered to him, although he hadn’t said a word.
Walking back into the house, Jack finally asked a question, although it wasn’t the one she had been expecting: “Did Gramps say anything…odd to you? Anything that…didn’t make any sense at all, but yet made perfect sense?”
“Actually, he did. He came over and sat down next to me, and said I didn’t have to hide the truth. He told me you love quick and hard, and that the mean one—which is Ben, obviously—was trouble, and that I should make my move soon or I wouldn’t be able to.” She turned and caught Jack’s arm, searching his eyes. “You didn’t say anything to him?”
Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Of course not. Gramps…sometimes he just knows stuff. He calls it ‘the second sight,’ and don’t ask me what that means. Some old Irish legend, I think. But he really does know things that he shouldn’t be able to know. He had the look on his face that he gets when he’s had the second sight. However he knew it, what he said was right. You need to do something soon, or it’ll just get worse.”
Miriam knew it, too, but she wasn’t sure what she could do. Thinking about it only made her realize even more how completely trapped she was, and how much she was risking just by being at this party with Jack. He must have picked up on her thoughts, because he introduced her briefly to his parents and the rest of his family, and then took her home.
He was as good as his word, dropping her off at her apartment and giving her an awkward goodbye hug, brushing the side of her face with his hand. “Be careful, Miriam,” he said.
Miriam gave him a long, sad look. “You, too.”
Chapter 8
Miriam
One week earlier
Jack showed up at her door a little before noon on a Saturday a week after the party.
Miriam had just woken up, having closed the night before, so she was wearing nothing but an extra-large Red Wings T-shirt and panties.
“Do you work tonight?” he asked, looking her up and down with an admiring grin.
“Jack! What—what are you doing here?” She pulled the edge of the shirt down, but no matter how she tugged it, the shirt still barely covered her thighs.
He held up two tickets. “I’ve got a pair of tickets to tonight’s Tigers game. Thought maybe you’d like to go with me.”
“Tigers?”
“Yeah, like, baseball?”
Miriam slapped his arm. “I know who the Tigers are.”
“Have you ever been to a game? It’s a lot of fun.”
“I haven’t, actually, and I’m off today. When is it?”
“The game starts at four. I thought we could grab some lunch in Greektown before the game.” Jack came in and hopped up on the kitchen counter, peeling his jacket off and setting it beside him. Miriam fought the urge to run her hands over his chest, his toned physique visible through his thin, black, skintight Led Zeppelin shirt.