Jack From Kickin It Novels & Stories

I hugged Liam and whispered in his ear before pulling away. "Kick his ass for me, bro." He smiled and nodded before swiftly climbing into the cage. I walked over, closer to Jessie's side of the ring, and yelled, "Good luck, Jackass. If Slasher lets you live, then I'll be the one to finish you off the next time I get a go at you." I smirked, and he just stared at me for a while, his face filled with pain before he masked it, shook his arms, and stretched out his neck.

He kept on kicking with his legs, trying to pull away. *** Jack looked around for his weapon. It was then that he realized how close he was to the narrow cliff face—ten feet at most. “Oh, you bitch, you bitch,” he yelled at the faggot. Jack dragged himself out of the stream and collapsed in the mud. He glanced around. Nothing. “Oh, I’m going to cut you up so bad.” Hope drained away as he said it. Loose packed earth fell under his grip and he shuffled away from the bluff’s edge, but not before seeing the scissors in a flash of lightning. A thorny bush fifteen feet below had broken their fall. Water ran into darkened treetops.

I say with a wave of my hand. "Same," says Ves with a grin "if I see his turd face again, I swear I'll punch him real good." "Call me when you do. I have a kick with his name on it," adds Jack with a smile. "Oh my god yes!" says Mia. "I'm in," says Pike. "Was this guy that bad?" asks Dane. "He stepped all over us. Literally," I say. "And he beat us up the most. Not just physically," says Jack.

Jack taunted seemingly unfazed by Jordan's injury. Jordan suddenly let out a breathless laugh that sounded a bit like a cough and then just as quickly kicked a foot out sweeping Jack's legs out from underneath him landing him flat on his back, the air in his lungs flew out with an audible hiss, especially when Jordan pounced on him and pinned him down. "Old age huh? I'm what a whole nine months older than you?" Jordan taunted back. "Ten," Jack gasped out. I gave a little giggle catching their attention and unfortunately distracting Jordan enough that Jack was able to toss Jordan off him and over his head where he landed with a thud on the ground next to him. They both laid still for a moment

I was going to become a gem all on my own. Just then, Queenie suddenly yanked the strap of my shoulder bag. The medical journal Mom left me fell straight to the ground, pages flying everywhere. Rage surged through me. I didn't know where the strength came from, but I raised my arm and slapped Queenie hard across the face. She stumbled backward and let out a dramatic cry. "Nigel! Save me!" Nigel's expression changed in an instant. He rushed to catch her in his arms and then turned around and kicked me in the stomach.

Kneeling on the marble floor in front of him was a man in security uniform. It was Jack. Jack’s face was a map of wounds and dried blood. One eye was so swollen it was closed. Blood stained his collar. He was breathing hard but kept his head bowed. He didn’t fight back. He just took the blows. And Nathan wasn’t done. Like a whip, Nathan’s leg snapped out and kicked Jack’s side. The sound that followed was terrible. A sick crack, then a muffled cry. Jack curled inward, nearly toppling to the side.

"Good, but I want to see you move faster and stronger. Remember to use your hips and legs for power." She handed him a bottle of water. "Got it. What's next?" He smirked. Mari smiled wryly. "Now it's time for some jump training. I want to see you jump high and fast." Jake eyes glinted and his lips curved into a sly smirk. "How about after my drill, I take you out for lunch?" Jack was hopeful. "Nay." "Why? I'm rich and the best player in my team." He boasted. No, because you're not Ray. Mari thought.

Jack gave an apologetic smile as he pulled out his seat and settled down with a sigh, adjusting his shirt. Lena raised a brow. “What were you up to?” “Nothing important.” “Really?” she chirped, tilting her head in observation. “Then why’s your face looking a little swollen?” “Oh,” Jack exclaimed softly as he pressed his fingers to his face where Julian had hit him. He cleared is throat, his voice barely a whisper as he added, “I practiced boxing with some of my friends.” “So that’s what kept you?” Lena leaned back against her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’d rather fight with your friends than show up early to a dinner you planned?”

Every single time, I had been the one groveling for her forgiveness. But not this time. Never again. When Celine saw that I wasn't falling over myself to apologize and that I simply walked right past her instead, she froze for a solid three seconds. Then she grabbed my wrist, her face full of disbelief. "You're really holding a grudge over that?" she snapped. Just because Tristan Whitfield wanted to know how long I could hold my breath, she had kicked me straight into the pool. If someone there hadn't known CPR, I might not have made it. And she boiled all of that down to me holding a grudge.

Not in front of everyone. Jack stepped forward and stood opposite Liam. “Using the stability training from earlier,” Jack announced, “your goal is to force your opponent to the ground. Watch closely.” They locked hands. The whistle blew. Jack was bigger, more muscular, planted like a tree. Yet in a blur of motion and raw power, Liam twisted, shifted his weight, and slammed Jack into the dirt. A collective murmur rippled through the crowd. Jack rose, brushing dust from his trousers with a nod of respect. “Your turn.”