Page 47 of Hook

I’m clenching my teeth so hard that I swear they are about to pop out of my mouth.

“You’re not going to touch her. I won’t let you get near her.” I snarl.

“You’re right. You won’t be alive by the time I get to her. I hope she’s in there watching. I want her to see you beg for your life as I bash your face in.” Lance smirks and just as I hoped he tosses his gun to the side and tells his cronies not to jump in.

Lance charges at me, his face contorted with rage. I brace myself, ready for the impact. As he gets close, I sidestep, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to slam him into the side of a nearby junker. The metal creaks and groans under the force.

Lance recovers quickly, spinning around and landing a solid punch to my jaw. Pain explodes through my face, but I shake it off. I've taken worse hits before. I counter with a quick jab to his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.

We dance around each other, trading blows. The gravel crunches beneath our feet, kicking up dust that shimmers in the harsh light. Sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes. I can taste blood in my mouth, metallic and warm.

Lance manages to get me in a headlock, his arm crushing my windpipe. Black spots dance in my vision as I struggle to breathe. With a burst of strength, I drive my elbow into his ribs, once, twice, three times. I hear a satisfying crack, and his grip loosens.

I break free, gasping for air. Lance stumbles back, clutching his side. I don't give him time to recover. I rush forward, tackling him to the ground. We roll in the gravel, each trying to gain the upper hand.

I end up on top, raining down blows on Lance's face. His nose breaks under my fist with a sickening crunch. Blood sprays,coating my knuckles. Lance bucks and twists, trying to throw me off.

Suddenly, I hear shouting. Lance's friends are trying to intervene. But before they can reach us, I see Brick and the rest of the BCMC form a wall around us. They push back Lance's crew, keeping them at bay.

"This is between them!" Brick roars, his voice carrying over the commotion.

With the distraction, Lance manages to knee me in the groin. Pain explodes through my body, and I roll off him, groaning. Lance scrambles to his feet, kicking me in the ribs as I try to get up.

I force myself to stand, ignoring the agony coursing through me. Lance is breathing heavily, his face a bloody mess. But there's still fight in his eyes.

We circle each other again, both of us battered and exhausted. Lance lunges forward, trying to grapple me. I dodge, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to throw him over my hip. He lands hard on his back, the air whooshing out of his lungs.

Before he can recover, I'm on him. I straddle his chest, pinning his arms with my knees. My fists rise and fall, pummeling his face. Lance's head snaps back and forth with each blow, blood and spittle flying.

I'm lost in a haze of rage and adrenaline, my fists rising and falling like pistons. Lance's face is a mess of blood and bruises, barely recognizable. But still, he won't stay down. He bucks and twists, trying to throw me off.

In the struggle, my eyes catch a glint of metal nearby. The tow hook. It's lying in the gravel, just within reach. Without thinking, I lunge for it, my fingers closing around the cold steel.

Lance sees what I'm doing and panic flashes in his eyes. He tries to scramble away, but he's too slow, too beaten. I bring the hook down hard, feeling the sickening crunch as it connects with his skull.

Time seems to slow. I can see every detail with crystal clarity. The way Lance's body goes limp, his eyes rolling back. The splatter of blood on the gravel, looking almost black in the harsh light. The way the hook vibrates in my hand from the impact.

I raise the hook again, ready to finish this once and for all. Lance lies motionless beneath me, defenseless. This is it. This is the moment that will change everything.

But then I hear it. A scream that cuts through the fog of violence surrounding me.

"STOP! HOOK, PLEASE STOP!"

Bea's voice. It's like a bucket of ice water, shocking me back to reality. I freeze, the hook suspended in mid-air. My chest heaves as I pant, every muscle in my body trembling with exertion and adrenaline.

I turn my head slowly, seeing Bea standing there, her face streaked with tears. She's shaking, her hands clasped over her mouth in horror. Our eyes meet, and I see the fear there. Not fear of Lance, but fear of me. Of what I've become in this moment.

It takes everything in me to lower the hook. Every instinct screams at me to finish the job, to make sure Lance can neverhurt Bea again. But I can't. Not with her watching. Not with her begging me to stop.

I let the hook fall from my grasp. It lands in the gravel with a dull thud that seems to echo in the sudden silence. I start to stand, my legs shaky beneath me.

But before I can fully rise, the night erupts into chaos. Blinding lights flood the yard, even brighter than before. The air fills with the wail of sirens and the barked commands of multiple voices.

"POLICE! EVERYBODY FREEZE!"

Cops swarm the yard, their weapons drawn. They move with precision, quickly surrounding us. I raise my hands slowly, knowing it's over. To my right, I see Lance's men being tackled to the ground, cuffs slapped on their wrists.

An officer approaches me cautiously, his gun trained on my chest. "On your knees! Hands behind your head!"