“Okay,” he said after pulling away, and sat back down, picking up his beer. “Sock it to me.”
“James Kellar was a drug pusher.” I was all for ripping off the bandaid this time. He did ask me to sock it to him after all. Jared winced and downed a huge swallow of beer. “Not that I knew that at the time,” I added hurriedly. I was trying to pull myself together after Renny, and I didn’t want Jared to think I was deliberately turning to harder, more mind numbing endeavours.
“He was older, twenty-five to my eighteen. I thought he was such an improvement over Renny, different, and he really looked to have it together. I was trying hard to make an effort. I stopped drinking except on weekends, improved my grades at school, and was finally dealing properly with losing Mum, so I thought maybe I was capable of making better choices. Kellar had plenty of friends and owned his own house. He had a beautiful car, a 1967 Shelby Mustang in gun metal grey with these big black racing stripes. He loved that car like it was his baby. Looking back I think I loved it more than him too.” I tried to lighten the moment, but Jared didn’t look amused so I hurried on. “Well I didn’t know it at the time, which was really stupid, but I didn’t know anything about drugs, that he was slipping pills now and then in my drink. I thought I was just getting tipsy because I’d lost my alcohol tolerance. It wasn’t until later when I thought about it that I realised I hadn’t been drinking all that much, just maybe one drink, two if I was lucky.”
“Fucking hell, Evie,” Jared bit out. “The house, the car, the people constantly coming and going... How obvious did it need to be?”
“Jared, I was eighteen and I’d never been exposed to that level of the drug chain before. Despite all the wild, stupid things I’ve done, drugs are actually something I’ve never touched, so how would I know? You’re trained to see this kind of thing.” I actually didn’t have a clue if he was trained to see that kind of thing at all, but it sounded good.
He relaxed his clenched hands. “Shit. Sorry, it just pisses me off that he did this to you.”
“You and me both. So one night we were having a party and there was a raid on his house. Unfortunately, whatever he’d slipped into my drink that night was particularly strong and thank God for the raid because the cops found me climbing up the third balcony railing in an attempt to fly and caught me before I went over.”
Jared’s golden skin went sheet white, and he held up his hand to indicate he needed a moment. “Please tell me they caught the a**hole?”
He closed his eyes in relief when I nodded.
“But not before I watched him squeal out of the driveway in hail of gravel and gunfire like a really bad James Bond movie. I’d like to say that was the last I saw of him, but the police came by several times, and I had to testify against him in court.”
Jared stood up and took our plates to the sink as he spoke. “So both of these two bastards broke your heart and almost got you killed and now...”
He trailed off into silence, as though lost in his own thoughts.
“And now?” I prompted.
“Now I…”
I got up from the table and moved into the kitchen, frowning when he didn’t meet my eyes. “Now you what, Jared?”
He leaned up against the kitchen bench and folded his arms, wincing as he rubbed at his chin. “Nothing, baby.” He unfolded his arms and reached for me, pulling me close. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Chapter Fifteen
After leaving Jared's loft the next morning, my health took a fast downhill slide by the time I reached the driveway of our duplex. In light of Jimmy, he followed me home in his car, and after waving him off, I weaved unsteadily into the house and promptly sent him a message.
E: Dying. Was it an attempt on our lives by Mr. Chow or are you ok?
J: Baby, I’m fine. Want me to take you to the doctors?
Of course he was fine. Mr. Chow’s manager probably slipped something in the food that somehow only killed off females, thus removing me from the equation and allowing him to make his move.
E: No. Thanks though. Will see how I am later.
Jared had left this morning for what he said was a busy day, no doubt interrogating suspicious witnesses with his unwavering stare and coordinating million dollar ransom drop offs. I wasn’t going to interfere in that.
Mac and Henry still asleep left me free to hit the shower and towelling off, I promptly found myself either about to lose my entire stomach to the bowels of the toilet or die. Dying, at that point, seemed the much preferable option.
Henry banged on the bathroom door. “Evie, are you okay?”
“Peachy,” I called back feebly and curled myself into a ball in the bathtub, hesitant of venturing too far from the toilet that was now my new best friend.
“What’s going on?” I heard Mac ask Henry outside the bathroom door.
“I don’t know. I think she might be sick.”
“She can’t be sick.” Mac sounded horrified. “I just got off the phone with Gary. They’re doing video footage of Jamieson live at the White Demon tonight.”
My stomach pitched terribly at that unfortunate piece of second hand news, and I pulled myself up from my wedged position in the bathtub to retch violently in the toilet again.
“What’s going on?” Cooper asked from the hallway.
I flushed the toilet and sank back down into the bathtub.
“Maybe she’s pregnant?” Mac sounded hopeful.
“Bugger off,” I moaned.
“Evie, are you okay?” Frog asked.
The doorknob rattled.
“Is it locked?” Jake whispered.
Was the entire world coming over to see me brought low?
* * *
Later that day I ended up at the doctors getting an anti-nausea injection. Halfway through our set at the White Demon found me fading fast, and with one song left to go, I was hanging onto the ledge of what felt like a fifty foot drop below. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t yet done with kicking me in the ass.
“One last song for tonight, beautiful people,” I said into the microphone and winked to Mac and Jared as they stood by the edges of the crowd and watched on with concern.
Suddenly a sharp, searing pain contracted my stomach, and as I doubled over in agony, a loud shot rang out, cutting through the hush of the crowd.
Everyone froze, then someone screamed. “He’s got a gun!”
“Fuck!” I heard Jake yell out, and before I even had time to blink, I found myself tackled to the floor under a huge, sweaty mound of muscled man. Any other time I might have appreciated the situation, but unfortunately it was Jake I found myself pinned under, not Jared. Not to mention the pressing concern of a gunman on the loose who had been, as I started to lift my head, apparently aiming in our direction.
“Stay down,” he ordered furiously. “Son of a f**king bitch shot out my goddamn bass drum.”
Somewhere to my right, I heard Coby yelling and risked a peek to see Henry, Frog, and Cooper being hustled off the stage.
The chaotic crowd rushed towards the exits at the right of the building, and I managed to see Jared pushing through them, heading for the front of the stage.
“Are you shot?” I thought I heard him say.
I blinked.
He managed to get closer, and I flinched at the fury on his face. “Are you shot?” he yelled at me.
I shook my head. “No.”
He started to reach for me when Travis let out a shout.
“Jared, to your right, three o’clock!”
All eyes swivelled to the direction of the street. A tall blond man pushed through the side exit and shoved a gun in the back of his pants.
“Fuck!” Jared yelled. “Go that way, Travis!” he indicated to the other side of the crowd with his arm. Reaching around his back, he pulled a handgun from the waist of his jeans, engaged the slide, and checked the safety.
“Jake,” he barked. “Get Evie to the back room. Now.”
“Wait,” Jake yelled as I started sliding off the front the stage. “Where’s Mac?”
“She was headed for the back room with Coby,” Jared said over his shoulder as he took off in a sprint towards the exit, all long muscled legs and furious intent. Pulling out his phone and dialling, I watched him close the distance like he was flying.
I evaded Jake’s grasp and ran after him to the street to watch the scene unfold before me.
Jared was sprinting hard and fast down the slope of the street, phone gripped to his ear as he shouted into it. The blonde gunman was losing ground, but not easily and my eyes caught Travis running equally hard down the opposite side of the street.
“Should we take a shot?” Travis yelled to Jared.
“No,” Jared yelled back, dodging two drunk pedestrians weaving about the street in obvious search for a cab.
I cringed, seeing a red hatchback fly out of a laneway which stopped the gunman in his tracks. Jared and Travis gained on him, and he flew around the back of the car and into the middle of the road. I almost died a little as he pulled out his gun and aimed it at Jared.
“Back the f**k off, man,” he yelled and Jared ducked behind the nearest car as the man wildly pinged off a shot.
It was like something out of The Bourne Identity, and I watched in disbelief as a drunken pedestrian stopped to snap a photo on his phone.
“Evie. Fuck.” Jake grabbed my arm and yanked hard. “Get inside.”
I shrugged off his arm as Travis stopped, lifted his gun, and aimed for the blond man’s leg, firing off a shot and missing as the man started to run down the side of the road.
“Holy shit!” Jake stopped yanking on my arm to watch the scene unfold. We had to squint just to make it out because they were now at the very end of the street.
The gunman was heading for the busy intersection. People on the corner started screaming and scattering as he ran through them, waving his gun and shouting for everyone to move. Travis cut through the intersection and four lanes of traffic, sliding off a small, compact car and hitting the ground hard.
Jared sprinted on as Travis scrambled to his feet to catch up. He was yelling something, but he was too far away to hear.
The blond gunman was obviously tiring. He started an awkward sprint across the road, trying to dodge a hooning taxi that was flashing its lights. Jake and I watched in stunned silence as the taxi screeched to a stop, and the gunman went sprawling across the hood in a flurry of arms and legs and off the other side.
Onlookers screamed and Jared flew across the road, tackling the man to the ground as he tried to get to his feet.
We could see the taxi man railing his fist out the window as Jared rolled the gunman over, cocked back his fist, and smashed it in the man’s face. The gun in his hand went flying, and Travis picked it up as he reached them, flicking on the safety and tucking it in the back of his pants.
Jared stood up, shoving the man to his feet and yanking his arms behind his back. He was frogmarched off the street into a side alley, Travis following close behind as pedestrians looked on with shocked bewilderment.
A dark blue sedan screeched to a halt at the front of the alley, police lights flashing from the front and rear windows. Mitch and Tate exited the vehicle and rapidly disappeared into the alley.