The scream that tore out of him made every person in the room flinch. Jordan crumpled to the floor, his body curling inward like a boiled shrimp. He shook violently, cold sweat beading across his forehead, his face twisted in agony.
That kick was aimed to make his little oath come true.
How much it actually hurt? Only Jordan knew.
"Luke... you..."
Myra saw Jordan writhing on the ground, clutching himself, howling in pain.
Her face went white.
She let out a furious shout, then dropped to her knees beside him without a second thought, not even caring that her dress rode up. Her hand reached for Jordan's waistband, ready to check the damage.
But halfway there, her fingers froze.
She realized, all at once, how frantic she looked. How obvious. A man and a woman, after all. If she pulled down his pants in front of everyone, she might as well stamp "affair" across her own forehead.
The room went still.
No one had expected me to kick Jordan. And certainly not there.
What shocked them even more was Myra's reaction. The panic. The way she'd nearly undressed him in front of a crowd without thinking twice.