Savage Rage Read Online Free

is over. Put your drinks down and leave by the front door. And I mean now.”
    There were quiet grumbles and protests, but soon a reluctant but steady stream of kids snaked out the front door.
    Once the crowd was moving, Jack headed for the stairs to flush out the second floor. He rousted two couples out of bedrooms then made his way to the master bedroom. The parents’ — the soon to be very surprised parents’ — bedroom was a grand affair dominated by a huge four-poster bed. Sliding glass doors, one of them cracked — Jack was willing to bet the damage was pretty damn recent — led to the rooftop patio. He didn’t have to open the doors; one of them was already wide open and letting in one hell of a draft. Next heating bill’s going to be a bitch. He stepped onto the deck.
    â€œParty’s over, everyone. Get out.”
    â€œFuck that, we don’t have to leave.”
    Jack was startled by the voice behind him but tried not to let it show as he looked over his shoulder. A guy definitely too old to be in high school was coming into the bedroom, buttoning his fly.
    Didn’t check the bathroom, Jack. Getting sloppy.
    The newcomer was wearing a University of Toronto leather jacket open over a bare chest. The muscle on display and the perfected swagger screamed jock; the graduation date on the jacket sleeve was from two years earlier and suggested either a grad still hanging out with the university crowd or an idiot who didn’t spend enough time studying. Jack was willing to bet on the idiot explanation.
    â€œSorry, bud, the party’s over and everyone has to leave. You first.” Jack pointed to the door.
    Jockhead screwed his face up and dismissed Jack with a flick of the fingers as he brushed by.
    Jack clamped a hand onto his right arm and pulled him back. “I said, you have to —”
    Jockhead ripped his arm free and then proved how stupid he really was: he spat in Jack’s face. “Fuck you, pig!” He turned to the partygoers while giving Jack the finger.
    Jack’s anger blazed hot and sudden. Better had the kid just punched Jack: assaulting a cop got you arrested, spitting on one landed you in the hospital. Jack reached for Jockhead, the rest of the party people forgotten.
    â€œAll right, fuckhead, you’re under —”
    The jock spun and Jack saw the fist coming. He jerked his head at the last instant and took a glancing blow to the cheek. Jockhead was cocking his right arm for a haymaker when Jack dug his hands into the jacket collar and pulled the kid forward into a crushing head butt. Jack’s forehead smashed squarely into Jockhead’s nose. Bone cracked, blood erupted.
    The watching crowd oohed at the brutal impact and gasped as Jockhead fell limp in Jack’s hands. Jack looked into Jockhead’s unfocusing eyes. “You’re under arrest.”
    Satisfied he wasn’t going to get any immediate resistance from his prisoner, Jack faced the crowd. “Get out. Now.”
    He stood impassively as the partiers, considerably sobered up after what they had witnessed, scurried past him. Some even mumbled apologies. It wasn’t long before the patio belonged to Jack and the still-dazed Jockhead.
    Brett came into the bedroom, glancing back as the last of the partiers hurried down the stairs. Then he looked at the bloodied man sagging in Jack’s grip. Unfazed, he simply said, “I bet that’s going to be a complaint.”
    â€œI’ll say that’s going to be a complaint,” Manny laughed, munching on a cookie then washing it down with hot chocolate. “Lawsuit, too, probably.”
    â€œGee, thanks for the support.”
    â€œC’mon, dude. This just proves what I’ve been saying since you started up here: putting a 51 copper in 53 is like putting a shark in the guppy tank.”
    Jack snickered. “I don’t think it’s quite that bad.”
    The scout cars were