Better Off Dead: A Jack Reacher Novel Novels & Stories

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed ins

“Look, I got no beef with you people. Never seen any of you before, and I won’t have seen you after this either. Let’s just get along peacefully. What do you need? Drugs? Weapons? I’ve got contacts that take care of whatever ails you.” “I take it by that answer, this isn’t your first rodeo.” Sean’s barely hiding his snarl. “I’ll assume you know the drill. You talk, we listen. Give us what we want, you probably live. Screw with us, you definitely die. Painfully. Got it?” “Sure. Sure. Suppose we can do this without the chains?” “No.” Jack shakes his head, leaning casually against the cell wall, pointing to the overhead UV sanitizer lamps again. “Makes it easier to vacuum up the cremains.”

ᯓ★ BREAKING NEWS: 30-year-old Ginger Cadette, the owner of the Bar & Life passed away yesterday due to brain cancer. Her family kept her burial private. With hard work and persistence, she successfully started and ran Bar & Life. But when she discovered that she had brain cancer, the business was passed on to her twin brother, Carter Cadette.

The murderer becomes the murdered as easily as that. Alaska walks casually out from the thicket of trees, viewing the entire mess with cold eyes. She looks past the eviscerated bodies to the one corpse on the ground, neater and more intact than any of the others but no less dead. Relief floods her as she looks at him, two down, three to go, her eyes move up to look at Jax, from his blood-drenched hand up to his handsome face which is as cool and as handsome as ever.

“When he was pronounced dead, his finger tips were black and his tongue was shrunken.” Rio smiles. “It’s Adax. It’s a lethal drug, found only on the black market.” Rio says. “I am sorry to be the one to say this, but Jack was definitely murdered.” Even though I expected, I couldn’t control the chills that runs through my body as I grip my dad’s arm for strength. Someone killed Jack. “You don’t seem shocked, Mr. Park.” Rio notices. “You expected it to be murder?”

I didn't know how much time passed before my body started feeling lighter. When I opened my eyes, I was floating above everything. Had I escaped? Then I looked down. My body was still on the firewood pile. Bruised all over. Neck bent wrong. Head hanging limp like a broken doll. Good news—I'd escaped that village. Bad news—I was already dead. When I got home, Mom was knitting on the couch. Dad stood by the window, anxious. "It's getting late. Why isn't Kaia home yet? What did she say when she called?"

Independence Day, 9 PM “Alright, thank you, bro. Be extra careful.” Jack hangs up the phone. “They are at the last stage of airplane delivery,” Jack says, shifting from one foot to another. He looks a bit nervous for a veteran and an ex-mafia member who has seen blood and death first-hand. What will happen tonight is nothing compared to what he had experienced before. “Good,” Chris nods, his eyes still fixating on the book he is reading. Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch. His favorite.

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.

The kind of expensive model that only rich kids could afford to drive to school, completely wasted on people who didn't know how to appreciate it. As soon as Damien turned on the engine, the radio blared to life. "Early this morning on the 27th, the search for a missing nationwide gangster has come to an end. The body of Jack Spencer has been recovered and identified, the cause of death being multiple stab wounds. The funeral will be held—" My hand shot out, turning the station to classic rock. I clenched my jaw. Fuck. My bodyguard was found? Not in the woods where I'd actually died—but in the river? Those fucks moved my body?!