He'd never kept Gant out of his mind for long. The longer the older man stayed here, the more he'd kept on his guard. Even if Gant was a good person now, an honest man - which Jake still doubted - that didn't mean Gant wasn't out to get him still. Especially with their first meeting, on that rainy day at the beach... he knew they had both declared war that day. But with all the snooping he was doing, all the surveillance, nothing had turned up. And Gant had not made a gambit yet.
That was, until he heard the man at his hospital door.
His eyes immediately shot up, narrowing in on Gant's cheery face. Just seeing that smile almost made him sick. He was thankful, at least, that the man's usual orange attire was nowhere to be seen. But those roses drew his attention, also. Jake wasn't sure what Gant was doing here, bringing roses, but he still didn't like it.
Jake's immediate reaction was to press the call button, still attached to his left finger. But he pressed once, twice, and the light never came on. Of all the times for it to not work! It had been working just fine before Gant came. His next was to quickly grab for his gun, which he did - but he could feel that as he grabbed it, it was too light to have a clip in it. And by the time he tried to get a clip in it, Gant would already be next to him. So instead, he switched his hand position just slightly, so that he could use it as a blunt weapon if Gant got too close. And as the older man walked toward him, Jake let out a snarl, fingers tightening around the handle of his pistol, despite how much it made his arm ache.
"Th' hell are you doin' here?" He asked, his eyes full of venomous rage for the man standing in front of him. His body was poised, tense. His arm was drawn back, ready to strike. And the seething anger on his face was all too clear. He was waiting for an answer, or for Gant to move, whichever came first. The instant he saw movement, he was ready to defend himself, even in his sorry state.
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That was, until he heard the man at his hospital door.
His eyes immediately shot up, narrowing in on Gant's cheery face. Just seeing that smile almost made him sick. He was thankful, at least, that the man's usual orange attire was nowhere to be seen. But those roses drew his attention, also. Jake wasn't sure what Gant was doing here, bringing roses, but he still didn't like it.
Jake's immediate reaction was to press the call button, still attached to his left finger. But he pressed once, twice, and the light never came on. Of all the times for it to not work! It had been working just fine before Gant came. His next was to quickly grab for his gun, which he did - but he could feel that as he grabbed it, it was too light to have a clip in it. And by the time he tried to get a clip in it, Gant would already be next to him. So instead, he switched his hand position just slightly, so that he could use it as a blunt weapon if Gant got too close. And as the older man walked toward him, Jake let out a snarl, fingers tightening around the handle of his pistol, despite how much it made his arm ache.
"Th' hell are you doin' here?" He asked, his eyes full of venomous rage for the man standing in front of him. His body was poised, tense. His arm was drawn back, ready to strike. And the seething anger on his face was all too clear. He was waiting for an answer, or for Gant to move, whichever came first. The instant he saw movement, he was ready to defend himself, even in his sorry state.