A desperate shout echoed from the entrance of the alley.
"Stop! Please, just stop!"
John came running in, chest heaving, not caring about anything except getting there in time. He threw himself in front of James, arms wide, trying to shield him from the gang.
"Don’t touch him! It’s me… I’m John! You can’t hurt him!"
Right then, panic and regret crashed into John all at once. That afternoon, he’d watched James push Emmy around. Acting on impulse, John had jumped on some shady forum and hired a local gang to teach James a lesson. He’d gotten busy and forgotten all about it—until now, with everything spiraling out of control. If anything actually happened to Emmy’s husband because of him, how would he ever explain it to her?
But the bald leader just laughed, a nasty grin spreading across his face.
"I don’t care if you’re John or Jack. Around here, it doesn’t matter. Anybody who gets in our way pays up."
They didn’t care who he was—or who anyone was, really. Money was the only thing that mattered to these guys.
John’s heart pounded like crazy. As the bald man raised a steel pipe, John tensed up. In a split-second burst of courage, he turned and pushed James.
"Go! Just run! This is all my fault—I’ll deal with it!"
But James didn’t budge, not even a little. The shove just sent John stumbling off-balance.
"Run?"
The bald guy smirked, swinging the iron pipe at John. It was heading right for his head.
"If you’re protecting him, you’re both going down!"
John flinched, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing up his arms in panic. He waited for the pain.
But it never came.
Suddenly, a strong hand shot out from behind him and caught the pipe. Just caught it, like it was no big deal.



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