Jack and the Beanstalk (Modern Wicked Fairy Tales Book 13)

by Selena Kitt

“Don’t let her get to you.” Will was still talking, and Jack was listening, even though he pretended he wasn’t. “You don’t need a woman who won’t stick around. Trust me on this one.”

  Jack grunted, hitting the bag hard enough to feel the jolt in his shoulder blade.

  Will had told him about Sarah soon after Goldi had left.

  Will Penny was born back in the early 1950s and lived his boyhood on this farm. He’d had dreams of being a boxer and marrying his childhood sweetheart. He fulfilled the boxing dream, winning gold at the Olympics. It was then that things slowly started to go wrong, according to Will.

  He joined the army. It seemed to him the thing to do. He was good at fighting, and it didn’t really matter that the U.S. Army didn’t usually win its battles wearing boxing gloves.

  And then, not long before his discharge, he got a Dear John letter from his childhood sweetheart, a petite blonde, blue-eyed girl named Sarah, who left town with some big talker with a bunch of empty promises. And that, Will had told him, was that. There had been no warning, no sign that things were not well between Will and Sarah. Will had been devastated.

  He had told him the story of Sarah to commiserate, of course. To let Jack know, when Goldi left, that the older man understood how he was feeling. Women left. They were capricious creatures who had heads that turned like weathervanes in a hurricane. They couldn’t be trusted. The only thing that was real, that Jack could rely on, was his own fists. That’s what Will had taught him, even though Will’s own boxing dream had blown away just after Sarah left him.

  Jack knew that it was about that time when Will’s father got sick, forcing Will to make a choice. He could pursue boxing, leaving his dying father alone on a farm he was too sick to work. Or he could take over the family farm.

  Will chose the latter, and while he turned out to be better at farming and the business end of it—better than anyone could have imagined—turning the family business into a multi-million dollar collective, he always remained just a simple farmer.

  A lonely, simple farmer.

  And I’ll end up a lonely, washed-up boxer, Jack thought morosely, half-heartedly punching the bag. I’ll probably have brain damage by the time I’m Will’s age.

  And would it be worth it? He wondered. Will had made it to the Olympics, but here he was, running a business by himself. He had no wife, no children, no family. All he had was Jack, who carried all of the hopes and dreams he’d ever had for himself.

  Would Jack end up like Will—sad, alone, pinning his dreams on the next generation?

  If Sarah had stayed, would things have been different for Will? If Sarah had been by his side, he would have had someone there to help nurse his father. Perhaps he could have hired someone to run the farm while he pursued boxing? Would Sarah have encouraged him to follow his dream? Or would she have been a distraction, like Will claimed Goldi was for Jack?

  He knew what Will said was true. He was distracted. His head was filled with Goldi, memories old and new. He could see the sweet, fresh-faced girl she had been and the sexy but guarded woman she’d become. Both at once, superimposed, one over the other. He wanted to take her into his arms, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake her, hold her, or kiss her. Maybe all three.

  “So it’s true, you really do train with bean bags?” A laughing, incredulous voice boomed, startling him out of his reverie.

  Will stood and Jack turned, shading his eyes and narrowing them toward the other end of the warehouse where half a dozen shadowy figures appeared just inside the huge, open doors. But Jack knew that voice.

  “What do you want, Falco?”

  Falco “The Dentist” Giordano approached slowly, casually, coming to stand in front of them in his expensive suit, legs apart, hands in his pockets. He looked like a businessman, as did the men who flanked him, but Jack wasn’t fooled.

  They called him “The Dentist”, ostensibly because he had a gold tooth with a diamond in it, but that wasn’t the real origin of his well-earned nickname. Rumor had it that Falco was something of a sadist and he specialized in dental torture. When he’d been a pro boxer—a better one even than his big brother—he hadn’t resisted the temptation to fight dirty. He’d been banned from boxing for putting foreign objects in his gloves and using horse stimulants.

  “Anything I can help you gentlemen with?” asked Will.

  There was no irony in Will’s voice as he said “gentlemen.” Jack knew it was Will’s principle always to be polite until there was a good reason to be otherwise.

  But Jack knew Will wasn’t naïve. And Jack knew instantly there would be trouble.

  Falco turned his head over his shoulder and said something to one of his men Jack didn’t quite catch. The men laughed. Falco scratched his jaw as if trying to remember something. “Can you help us? Let me see, let me see… oh yes. I brought you a message from my brother.”

  Will crossed his big arms. “Any message he wants to send, tell him to save it for the ring.”

  “This one can’t wait.” Falco grinned and shrugged apologetically.

  “He couldn’t deliver it himself?” Jack snapped.

  Falco tsked like he was admonishing a child. “Now, you know as well as I do, no fraternizing before the fight. Wouldn’t want anyone to get disqualified.”

  “So he sent you to do his dirty work?”

  “Gotta do what you’re good at.” Falco’s grin widened, allowing Jack to see that shiny gold tooth.

  “You used to be good in the ring,” Will said. “Too bad you had to fight dirty.”

  “Now I can fight as dirty as I want to.” Falco winked.

  “I can see why they disqualified you.” Jack couldn’t help the smirk that lifted the side of his mouth. It was strange, how a smile tended to creep over his face when he was really angry, when his body was getting ready to go. Falco’s laid-back attempt to intimidate struck him as pathetic. It wasn’t that he saw Falco and his men as harmless—far from it. Even now, he could see that a few of them had casually opened their jackets to reveal holstered pistols, which didn’t surprise Jack in the slightest. But Jack had no respect for men who needed to control or terrify other people.

  “They’ll do more than disqualify you, if you don’t leave Goldi out of this,” Falco said, his dark eyes glittering in the dimness.

  So there it was. This was about Goldi. Somehow that enraged him more than Falco and his men barging into the warehouse in the first place. Who was he to tell Jack who he could or couldn’t converse with?

  “I didn’t bring her into it.” Jack shrugged, keeping his anger contained. “Your brother did.”

  “I’m warning you, bean-boy.” Falco’s face went dark as he took a step forward. Jack didn’t back away. “You even say her name again, and I’ll take you down myself.”

  Jack glanced down where Falco had his hand on the butt of his gun. “You gonna shoot me?”

  “I don’t need a gun to settle a score.” Falco snorted, glancing at the empty ring beside them. “You wanna go, boy?”

  “As fun as it would be to wipe the floor with you, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

  “You and me, gloves off. Let’s go.”

  Jack snorted contemptuously and shook his head. “Not happening.”

  “Afraid, pal?”

  Now Jack scratched his chin as if trying to remember something. “Chicago, two years ago, just before you were banned. That’s it! I remember, I was sooo scared of you, I left you on the mat for a count of ten. A roundhouse if memory serves. That’s how ‘afraid’ of you I am.”

  Falco cracked his knuckles coolly. “All right then. If you won’t fight me, my boys here will give grandpa a beatdown.”

  Slowly, Falco’s men moved a little in the direction of Will. One of the men was now in between Will and Jack, turned towards Jack, and opened his jacket to reveal his holstered weapon. He kept his hand near it. Will stiffened but did not move.

  “Still not interested?” Falco looked coolly at the nearest of the
men, turned his head, and spat.

  Jack met Will’s eyes and saw the older man’s body was taut as a wire, ready to go. But he couldn’t allow Will to fight half a dozen grown men on his own. That wasn’t even an option.

  “All right then,” said Jack, looking at Falco.

  “Jack…” said Will, a warning in his voice.

  “Will, I have to.”

  Will was silent.

  The men near him backed off as Jack got into the ring. He took off his shirt and threw it down on the floor as Falco handed his clothes to one of his men and got into the ring. Barefoot, stripped down to his boxers, Falco began to dance, throwing punches at the air.

  Jack stood there with his arms folded. He didn’t need to warm up. He was still sweaty from the morning’s work, throwing bean bags onto a truck.

  “Any time you’re finished with the show, Falco.”

  Falco came at him like lightning. It was a dirty trick—not making at least some formal gesture that he was ready, and the fight was on. But Jack anticipated it. He neatly stepped aside, and Falco bounced off the ropes. As he came back toward Jack, Jack got in a good punch to the body and Falco clearly felt it.

  But he wasn’t beaten that easily. Falco came in with a flurry of punches. Not having fought for a while, he wasn’t in shape like Jack, and for a fighter, was too fat. But his blows still had speed and power. Jack blocked as many as he could, but the ones that got through stung. None to the head, though. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

  As a fighter, Jack’s greatest strength was his ability to take a lot of punishment. He got in a few good blows himself, but it was clear to any experienced eye what was happening. Falco was wearing himself out with a great burst of activity that was costing him more than it was costing Jack. Even though Jack was taking more blows than he was giving, his opponent’s speed and energy were dwindling rapidly.

  Jack was biding his time.

  Inevitably, Falco had to take a bit of a breather. He probably counted on being able to endure the counterstrike that was coming, but he was wrong. Jack went at him with fists of iron. The months of punching hard, heavy bean bags in training were paying off. One blow after another rained down on Falco, and while Jack was fast, he decided to trade speed for power, to make sure every blow counted.

  And they did.

  Falco staggered as two more blows smashed into his chest. Then he fell. Jack continued to bounce lightly around him, bruised and bleeding, but still very much full of energy.

  Falco slowly held his hand up in a gesture that meant defeat.

  Jack stepped out of the ring. Will had taught him good sportsmanship, but this was one opponent whose hand he would not shake.

  A couple of Falco’s boys jumped into the ring to help him to his feet. Angry, he stood up under his own power and got out of the ring. Then, wiping off his face with a towel, he nodded towards Will and said to his men, “Give him a beatdown anyway, but hold him down first.”

  As Falco’s men moved towards Will, Falco turned to him and said contemptuously, “I’ll give you one shot first, old man.”

  Falco’s words were hardly out of his mouth when Will’s fist landed squarely on it. Falco staggered backwards, his hand covering his bleeding lip. He spat something out onto the floor.

  “Fuck!” he cried. “My gold tooth! All right, let him have it.”

  Before Jack could get to them, half a dozen guys were all over Will. One of them seized a two by four and smashed Will across the head with it. Jack seized the board from him and stood over Will’s half-conscious body, holding off the entire crew. It was clearly death to get within range of the two by four.

  The men started pulling their guns then, but the squeak of truck breaks sounded out in the yard, and a dozen Penny Bean Collective farmers and workers arrived with rifles in hand. Falco and his boys were clearly outnumbered and outgunned. Slowly, they backed towards their cars.

  “This ain’t over!” shouted Falco, shaking his fist.

  Chapter 3

  Jack sat by Will’s bedside when his friend woke up in the hospital. He had a concussion, but the doctors said it looked like he would be all right.

  When Will’s eyes opened, he appeared suddenly alert and ready to go, as if he was still standing in the middle of Falco’s gang. Then he saw Jack and his gaze softened.

  Will opened his mouth to speak, his voice just a croak. “Jack...”

  “Don’t talk, Will.”

  Will shook his head. “Some stuff I gotta say.”

  Jack offered him the Styrofoam cup sitting on the night table, tipping the bendable straw so Will could sip. He swallowed greedily.

  “Thanks.” Will’s voice was almost normal again.

  “You should rest.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Will waved that thought away, putting a hand up to rub the bandage on his head like it hurt. “I’ll rest later.”

  “You want something for the pain?” Jack asked. “I can call the nurse...”

  “Soon.” Will nodded, wincing as he touched his bruised face. “That stuff makes me loopy. And I need to be clear to talk to you.”

  Jack frowned. “What’s so important you gotta say it right now?”

  Will crooked a finger to motion him closer. Jack leaned in, wondering what in the world he could possibly have to say. His words couldn’t have surprised or moved him more.

  “Jack... I’m proud of you.” Will’s voice had recovered but it was somehow hoarse again anyway.

  “Anyone would have done what I did today.” Jack felt his face fill with heat. “I’m just glad those workers showed up with rifles, because—”

  “I don’t just mean about today.” Will interrupted him. “Although I have to thank you for that, as well.”

  “No thanks required, Will. You’ve done so much for me and my mother over the years. It’s the very least I could do.”

  “Jack, I want you to listen to me.” Will grabbed his shirt in his fist and pulled him so close Jack could smell chewing tobacco. “Courage isn’t just about fighting other men. It’s about following your dreams. You’re going to keep on following your dreams, aren’t you, Jack? Aren’t you?”

  Taken aback, he blinked in surprise. “Sure Will, of course.”

  “That’s what I told myself, years ago, about my own dreams.” Will looked at him hard but let go of Jack’s shirt. “But things didn’t turn out for me.”

  “Aw, Will, don’t say that.” Jack stood, looking down at the man who had been like a father to him all these years. “You have plenty of accomplishments. The farm and the business have done amazing over the years. And you trained me, didn’t you?”

  “That I did.” A grin split Will’s weathered face. “And you turned out to be the best fighter I’ve ever trained. You’re far better than I was.”

  “Aw, come on, Will.” The heat was creeping down Jack’s neck. He wasn’t used to these kinds of compliments from his benefactor.

  “It’s not empty praise, Jack.” Will leaned his bandaged head back on his pillow. “You know I don’t say these things lightly.”

  “I know.”

  “The thing is...” Will’s gaze was focused on the wall, but he was seeing something far away. “When I got out of the army and wanted to go back to boxing...”

  His voice trailed off and Jack prompted him. “I know—your dad was sick. And you had to take care of him.”

  “Did I?” Will’s brow knitted tightly. “That’s what I told myself at the time. But I don’t know if it was the whole truth.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean...” Will’s gaze shifted so he was looking at Jack. “Don’t let a woman come between you and your dream, Jack.”

  Goldi. The thought of her jolted him. It also softened him in a way that was almost shameful, especially under Will’s steady gaze.

  “Don’t do what I did.” Will shook his head, lowering his gaze to the hospital sheets. “When Sarah ran off, it broke me. I wanted to smash something. And instead
of putting all that energy into the ring, I just... smashed up my whole life.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No, but it was my choice. Yeah, it’s true, Fred couldn’t handle the farm on his own. But Mike, my brother, and his wife, Charlene, were around back then. If I’d decided to pursue my boxing career, they would have picked up the slack. But because of Sarah, I couldn’t see clearly. I chose to stay . I chose a small life because I was hurt and afraid.”

  “Aw, Will...” Jack felt his throat tighten.

  “I was afraid for you when Goldi left. But you stayed strong. Focused. That made me so proud. But now that she’s back... well, I have to be honest. I’m afraid for you again.”

  “You don’t have to worry about Goldi. She’s a married woman, remember?”

  Will snorted .“That just makes it more complicated.”

  “She’s in love with another man.”

  “I saw the way she looked at you, Jack.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I let losing Sarah derail my dream. I’m just trying to open your eyes to the dangers here. Goldi is a distraction. And if you let your guard down, if you let her in, if you fall for her again, and then you lose her? I can see you going down that road, Jack. It’s a road I’ve traveled, and I can tell you, it’s a dark one.”

  “You’re really jumping the gun here, Will. Goldi is married to The Giant. I have no intention of getting involved with her, or anyone else, for that matter.”

  “So you say. But sometimes our hearts have other ideas.”

  Jack didn’t say anything, but he was very aware of the fast beat of his heart. It was racing like he was in the middle of the eighth round of a fight. Or pounding out of his chest because his secret had just been discovered. Will had looked into his eyes and had seen the truth in them. A truth Jack didn’t want to admit, even now.

  “I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself,” Will continued. “Or your dream. You’re an honorable man and you’ve got a keen sense of duty. But that can easily be used and turned against you. I don’t want to see you hurt, and I don’t want to see your career go up in smoke, all for a woman. Because if I learned one thing from Sarah, it’s that women aren’t worth it.”