Better Off Dead: A Jack Reacher Novel Novels & Stories

Is there even a way how? Moreover, I sense like I wanted to throw up and smack my head multiple times. Everything I saw is making me insane in a hardcore way. "How did you survive?" What the hell?! So, he's fucking speculating that I should be a frigid cadaver right now? "I don't even know how the hell this world ends up like this." I hissed and gritted my teeth as I looked away. I jerked off when the other military wagon behind us is currently shooting those people with a body of a dead.

“Whether or not you choose to have a relationship with him after everything—that’s your decision. But don’t stand here pretending you’re some instrument of divine vengeance.” I pointed toward the box still sitting inside the car, horror sealed in wood. “You slaughtered three vile pieces of trash. Good. They deserved every ounce of pain you gave them.” My voice dropped to a whisper, but it hit harder than any scream. “So why didn’t you finish the job? Reed was the mastermind, they were only doing what they were paid for. Shouldn't he have been the first one to die?” Rayne went still. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

I growl as he tries to shake me off, so I bite down into the warm flesh in my jaws and feel and taste his disgusting blood fill my taste buds. With one quick pull, the entire back part of his neck is ripped clean off; I spit it to the floor and feel Jack slump to the floor and shift back. The limp fragile figure of Jack is on the floor as he bleeds out from a deep wound from just under his hair line to mid back. "Goodbye Alpha Jack." I whisper once I shift back, wiping the blood from my mouth, "good riddance." I hear as his heartbeat slows and eventually stops. Alpha Jack is dead.

Like he was pulling up files, cross-referencing information. "This is good," he continued. "Actually, this is very good. It gives us a link, and maybe a concrete connection between the kidnapping and these deaths." "But they're dead," Jack said quietly. "Doesn't that make things harder?" "Yes and no," Officer Adebayo replied. "Dead men can't talk, that's true. But their deaths tell a story. And right now, that story is screaming at us." I leaned closer to the phone. "What do you mean?"

Then he turned to Casey. "Casey! Say something! You know me best! I'm getting framed!" I drifted above the room, quietly watching it all. The pain and suffering in those videos—now that I recalled them, I could no longer feel it. The system's notification sounded on time in my mind. [Detention time ended.] [World passage opening.] [Host, welcome home.] At that moment, Casey was staring at Roger. Her gaze grew colder by the second, like ice forming over frozen water.

“He was trying to flee the city, and got hit by a truck. He was rushed to the hospital but unfortunately he didn’t make it” “F*ck”, Charles cursed, slamming his phone on the desk. A crack sound as the screen shattered, probably spoilt beyond repair. Jack arched a brow beside him, “What happened?” “The culprit. He is dead”. He let out a frustrated grown, running his hand through hair. How was he to interrogate a dead corpse? “You want me to look into it?” Jack asked beside him. A knock on the door interrupting them.

“Glad you reconciled with your fate.“ He smiled, his brows furrowing once again. “What are you leaning against?“ He asks, keeping his gun in a straighter position. “Xander.“ Lena replied, her chest pounding quite hard, she felt fingers drawing soothing circles on her back. “Don't be ridiculous. I understand you are in shock and delusion right now but I killed your lover.“ Xander pushed Lena behind him, moving towards the starlights illuminating the night. “Or maybe you are the delusional one, Jack.“ Jack paled up immediately, his cocky expression slackening. Xander readied his gun, releasing the trigger. “It can't be possible, I killed you.“

Jack walked up to me with a cup of coffee in his hand. “It’s done, he’s dead.” I whispered and angrily walked away, not sparing him any chance to say anything. Jack had a smug on his face the entire time. I slumped onto the bed immediately I got to my room trying to fight away the guilt that was threatening to quash insides, I just killed someone, I had a body on me and I was totally freaking out. As I lay there staring at nothing in particular, I wondered how my life crumbled right in front of my eyes. A knock that pulled me out of my misery came from the door. I stayed mute hoping whoever it was will go away, I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

"Eve, can you stop being so stubborn? I've apologized, and I'm willing to pay. What more do you want? Will you not let it rest until I'm in prison?" David nodded. "Exactly. The dead can't come back to life. You need to move on. 20 grand is a lot. A life isn't even worth that much in rural areas."

He doubles over, and I take the opportunity to land an elbow to the back of his neck making him drop to the floor. “Are you ready to die like your friend?” I ask. “Fuck you bitch. You can’t win against our army. Scàthach will triumph and you will all die.” “Ew, can we not do the villain monologue? It’s so annoying and cliché.” I say before I extend my claws and rip his heart out through his back. That was seriously badass and gross, all at the same time. Hey, he’s dead, his friend is dead, and Wyatt is dead. That’s all that matters.