Ethan
Oh my gosh.
Oh my gosh!
Jade’s being robbed!
It’s taken a second to wrap my head around it, but now the reality is staring me in the face.
Yes, I noticed a guy bursting into the gym after hours, but my mind squandered a few precious seconds trying to muster a reasonable explanation:
He’s a customer who forgot something. He’s an employee picking up his paycheck. He’s a friend of Jade’s. He’s a stranger who needs directions.
But now I’m cursing myself. Hey, Sherlock, was the ski mask a solid enough clue for you?
I’d just set down a couple of free weights when he caught my attention. Maybe I’m more observant than I’m giving myself credit for, because none of the reasonable explanations I was conjuring could unglue my eyes from the back of his head.
He clearly hasn’t noticed me, and something—even at the height of my brain freeze—has compelled me to stay as still and quiet as possible.
But I’m not still anymore. This lunatic’s waving a gun in Jade’s face, and I’m taking him down.
Okay, Ethan. It’s go time. You’ve got at least half a foot on a guy that you’d swat away like a fly if he were trying to sack you on the gridiron. True, he’s got a pistol, but he’s probably high as a kite, and you’ve got the element of surprise. He doesn’t know you’re going to sneak up on him. Plus, God is with you. He’ll be right by your side. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” You can do this, Ethan. You must do this. Put those zillions of training hours to good use. Channel that pent-up rage you felt when your dad was clocking your mom and you were too little to do anything but cower. Neutralize the threat. Save the girl. Do it now.
NOW!
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