Chapter 108

Andrew Smith grabbed the fire poker from the corner—a thick rod as wide as a man's forearm. Paul Jackson trembled in fear. A single strike from that would shatter bones.

"Y-you can't do this..." He shrank back, his words stumbling.

Luna White stared at Andrew in surprise. The man was usually so composed—what had gotten into him? If he actually hurt someone, the military would have questions.

Just as she stepped forward, Andrew handed her the poker. "Hold it with both hands."

Understanding dawned on her. She took the rod, and Andrew delivered a swift kick.

Crack! The poker snapped in two. Luna tossed the broken pieces at Paul's feet, making him flinch again.

Andrew then hauled a stone slab from the yard. "Again."

Luna suppressed a smile. This man had a flair for theatrics.

Another kick. The slab shattered into pieces.

"Impressive skills, Instructor Smith," Luna said loudly. "If that kick had landed on a person..."

"Even a two-hundred-pound man wouldn't survive it," Andrew finished, his gaze fixed on Paul.

Paul's face paled. He was nowhere near that weight.

"Are you alright, brother-in-law?" Andrew feigned concern. "I can't stand men who hit women."

"I-I'm fine..." Paul was thoroughly cowed.

Luna Whitaker struggled to stand. "I'll go borrow money—"

Before she could finish, two teenage boys burst in—the elder sixteen, the younger fourteen. Their faces darkened at the sight of their mother's injuries.

"Did Dad hit you again?" Ethan Jackson clenched his fists. "Don't worry, Mom. We're here."

"I'm fine..." Luna Whitaker tried to leave. "Your brother still has a fever..."

"I'll get the money from Grandma!" Ethan blocked her path. "She's taken enough from us over the years to cover his treatment."

Luna Whitaker gave a bitter smile. "She won't give it..."

"Then let him ask!" Ethan glared at his father.

Luna dabbed the youngest boy's forehead with a damp cloth and chimed in, "That's right, brother-in-law. He is your son."

"Bullshit!" Paul suddenly roared. "Who knows whose bastard this is? Better off dead!"

The room fell silent.

Luna's hand stilled. What did that mean?

She glanced at her sister. Luna Whitaker's face was ghostly pale, her lips trembling, but she didn't deny it.

Could there be... some truth to it?

Luna narrowed her eyes. The waters in the Jackson family ran deeper than she'd thought.