Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (19 page)

“See, here’s where I’m stuck. You may not have had anything to do with my father’s dealings, but you did have a part in taking away my toy. So since you took something from me, I’m going to take something from you. Unless you can buy my toy. You get where this is going?” She drags her fingernails through my hair.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I don’t know what they did with the money, and if you go near Chloe again, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

“Ah, there’s the fighter I knew you were hiding. You see, mi amor, you don’t have a fucking choice. It’s find my money, or your little girlfriend is fucking done.”

“Why aren’t you asking Todd?” I ask.

“My pet thinks he’s safe behind those bars. He thinks he’s going to serve his time and then walk away fifty years from now with my father’s money and no one the wiser. His lips are as sealed as tight as his ass. But, what he doesn’t realize is, there is nowhere he can hide where my father can’t find him. There is not a place on this earth that he is safe. I will get Sebastian’s money and you’re going to help me.”

I hadn’t picked up on her accent before now. Her Spanish heritage shows in her voice the more agitated her mood becomes.

“How the hell am I supposed to help you? I don’t know who your father is. I thought he was just a psycho small town drug dealer.”

“You’re a smart guy, figure it out. You know where to find me. You get what I need and then I disappear, that’s how this will work. Do you understand?”

I don’t reply, I can’t help her; I wouldn’t know where to start.

“I said, do you understand?” she almost screams. I know I’m not in the position to be a smart-ass but for some reason, I can’t help myself.

“No, me entiendes estúpida puta de mierda. Ahora, ¿por qué no vuelves a lo que alguna vez la maldita alcantarilla te arrastraste desde pedazo de mierda.” I don’t speak Spanish, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from bars and construction sites. Apparently she doesn’t like being called a stupid fucking whore. Or being told to go back to whatever fucking sewer she crawled out of and then calling her a piece of shit.

My words set off the men restraining me. The one holding me grips me tighter and spins my body to face Jay. She spits in my face, then throws two blows to my gut and one to my nose. Jay takes a step back, clearing a path to allow the tall guy standing next to her to take her place.

Nero’s arms hold me even tighter while the other guy throws a series of punches to my upper body. The guy’s fists swing and land with the precision of a professional boxer. Each time he makes contact with my body, the pain increases.

After the guy is satisfied with his work, he stops swinging. Nero releases me and I fall to the cold, hard, unforgiving concrete. Nero chuckles, then throws a kick to my knee, almost breaking it. I watch through blurry eyes as the men turn the corner. I can still feel her presence, but I can’t see her.

I close my eyes and take deep, careful breaths to calm my racing heart. The sound of footsteps echo around me. When I open my eyes, the only thing I can see is the toe of a black biker boot. Jay squats down next to me and says, “You get my money and I walk away. You can go back to playing house with your girlfriend, isn’t that what you want? Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

She takes half a step back, swings her right foot, and nails me right in the stomach. My body curls up into a ball. My stomach recoils then lurches. Vomit lands on the pavement next to my head. Everything hurts, my vision is blurry, and the taste of blood is thick on my tongue.

I manage to roll onto my back and lay like this for a few minutes. I would lay here longer, but voices engaged in mindless chatter are fast approaching. With a deep breath of determination, I pull myself to my feet. I prop myself against the dark blue Camry next to me. The man’s voice reaches my ears.

“Sir, are you okay? Can I call someone for you?” he asks. The woman next to him gasps at my appearance. I’m not sure how bad it is since I haven’t seen myself, but if I look half as bad as I feel, then I’m in bad shape.

“Na, I’m good,” I force out. I push off of the car and onto unsteady feet, hobbling toward my car. The Jeep is parked around the next corner, and by the time I reach it, I’m exhausted. I sit in the driver’s seat and reach for the glove box. When I open it, I grab my phone and call Harley.

“Dude, where the fuck are ya at? The girls are flipping their shit, I wouldn’t come home if I were you,” he says as a greeting.

“Shut the fuck up,” I gasp. “Can you come back to the courthouse? Don’t tell the girls where you’re going. I need your help. Call Brady and have him come here, too.” I have to rest between each word. It hurts to breathe.

“You okay?” he asks. His voice has dropped to a whisper.

“I’ll be all right, but get over here quick.”

“Yeah man, be there in a few.” I hang up without another word.

The sound of screeching tires jolts me from sleep. I hadn’t realized I passed out. I glance down at my ripped button up polo shirt. A mixture of dirt and blood has turned the light yellow color an ugly brown. My mouth is dry and crusted with a metallic taste.

A tapping at my window takes my attention from the beaten state of my body. I let my head drop to the left to look at Harley and Brady, who are now hovered at my window.

“What the fuck!” Brady shouts.

“What the hell happened to you?” Harley asks.

“I will get in to all that, but one of you needs to get me outta here.”

“Yeah, come on, let’s get ya into my car.” Harley starts to open the Jeep door. I let him, but when I stand on my feet, they collapse. Brady catches me before I hit the pavement.

“Put me in the passenger seat and you drive,” I instruct them. I don’t have to tell them twice. Brady helps me into the other side of the Jeep, he even goes as far as to buckle my seat belt as if I were a child.

Harley gets in his car and backs up to allow us to have room to get out of the parking stall.

“Where we going, man?” Harley asks.

“I can’t go to Chloe’s. Um, just take me to a hotel or something.”

“All right.”

Brady pulls his phone out and fills Harley in on where we’re going. We drive in silence for the few minutes it takes to get to the hotel where Todd and Tom got into their shootout with the cops. Unfortunately, this is the only hotel in town.

Brady runs in and gets a room, when he comes back, the guys help me into the room. They sit me in a chair next to a table. Brady runs to the bathroom, getting a small cup of water and brings it back. I greedily drink the clear liquid.

“So what the fuck happened to ya. You look like fuckin’ road kill,” Brady states.

With a sigh, I go into the events that’s happened since I left them.

“Holy mother fucking shit! You’re shittin me, right?” Brady all but shouts.

“What the hell are ya gonna do?” Harley says at the same time.

“Fuck if I know, man. I have no fucking clue what she’s talking about,” I reply.

“This is so fucked up, man. When Chloe see’s you like this, she’s gonna lose her shit,” Harley informs me.

“She’s not going to see me like this!” I jump up quickly, which turned out to be a bad idea because it set my body on fire. I cringe and drop back into the wooden chair.

“How the hell are you going to hide it? You look like shit. Have you seen yourself?” Brady asks me.

“Actually, I haven’t. Help me up.” The guys help me up and escort me to the mirror mounted above the dresser. Both of my eyes are as black as shoe polish. There are cuts and gashes all over my face. My nose is definitely broken, it’s slanted to the left instead of being straight. I’m covered in footprints and blood. Fuck me.

“I’m gonna stay here until I’m healed. I won’t go to the trial and I’m going to figure out something about this money bullshit. I need y’all’s help though. Harley, you keep me informed on the baby, Chloe, and the trial. Brady, you and I are going to play fucking detective, starting with BAR’s books. If Chloe asks, you don’t know anything about my whereabouts or what I’m doing. Ya ain’t heard from me,” I speak directly into the mirror.

“Man, she’s not gonna fall for that shit, she’s gonna know I’ve talked to ya. You can’t hide from her, and what about the baby, man? She’s got appointments and whatever else pregnant women have to do. She’s gonna think you ran off with Jay,” Harley reminds me.

“Let her think what she wants to right now. I will handle everything else later, but right now, I need to figure out this Jay shit before she hurts Chloe and the baby.” This shit never fucking ends does it? It seems like every bad thing that can possibly happen to someone is happening to me and Chloe.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket and I pull it out. Sara’s name is displayed on the screen.

What the fuck is up with you? How the fuck could you just walk out with that bitch?

Clearing the message, I glance over at Harley. He folds his arms over his chest, giving me the
I told you so
look. “Chloe?”

“No, worse, Sara,” I respond.

“Fucking hell. I knew this was going to happen. Chloe’s released the fuckin’ Kraken. You are so beyond fucked it’s not funny.”

I ignore him, I don’t need him to tell me this is fucked up or that Sara is going to chew me up and spit me the hell out as soon as she gets her hands on me. I love her, but she’s one vicious bitch when you piss her off. I have no doubt in my mind that she’s going to tear me to shreds the first chance she gets.

My phone vibrates angrily in my pocket again.

Don’t fuckin’ ignore me!!! Tell Harley to answer his phone....NOW!

As if on cue, Harley’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out and looks at it. His face blanches, then he glances to me.

“I’m getting the hell out of here. Do you see the shit storm you just created?” He storms out of the room, slamming the door shut.

“I have to agree, man. This is one hell of a shit storm.” Brady runs his hands over his face. “Where the hell do we start?”

“Fuck if I know. What time is it?” I ask him.

“It’s almost seven. We can’t head over to BAR with you lookin’ like that. It may only be Monday, but there will be a few people there at least.”

He’s right. I don’t want anyone to see me. People talk, and if I was spotted lookin’ like I got into a fight with an oncoming train, it would get back to the girls. I may still be pissed at Chloe, but I don’t want to cause her any stress. Add the twenty questions I will have to play with her and Sara, and I just don’t have time for that shit. The least they know right now, the better.

“Why don’t we order a pizza grab a few beers and just lay low for the night. You can wash your ass and I will go and grab some clothes. Then I can swing by the pizza place up the street and get that,” he offers.

“You can’t go to the apartment in my car and get my clothes. They’ll see you,” I tell him.

“Who the hell said I was going to get your clothes?”

The confused look on my face makes him chuckle.

“Dude, I have some shit at BAR. There’s a loft apartment upstairs, I’ve been crashing there. Kasey’s been driving me fucking crazy with his ‘no chicks coming over’ bullshit, so I have been staying there. Hell, I’m usually too fucked up to drive or walk home anyway.” He shrugs.

Well hell, sounds like he’s got it all figured out, so I agree. He leaves and I latch the door. Since I’m dealing with heavy hitting drug dealers, it’s probably safe to assume that I may have a set of unwanted eyes on me. Once the door is locked, I walk to the dresser where I threw my phone earlier. Sixty-seven missed text messages and thirty-four missed calls, all from Sara. Fuck me, this girl means business. I scroll through the messages, they all range from deadbeat dad insults to threats against my life. I’m not so sure Harley knows exactly what he’s gotten into messing with this chick.

I’m not mad at her though, she’s just angry for her friend. If I were in her situation, I would do the same. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume that the only reason she hasn’t already hunted me down is because Chloe stopped her.

Like I said, shit fucking storm. I sigh and walk into the dark bathroom. When the light comes on I spot several brown, thumb-sized bugs scatter and climb into the space between the floor and the baseboard. It doesn’t bother me though, I’ve lived in worse. I strip down to nothing and step into the yellowish-brown, water stained tub.

I turn the water on, letting the icy cold spray wash over me. My body tenses as the frigid water hits my skin. The cuts on my body and face burn, but it also serves a sort of relief. The freezing water numbs my thoughts and momentarily replaces my fears.

As the rust tinted water warms my body, it defrosts my mind. Images of Chloe being beaten in her home run through my head, the air is knocked from my lungs. Pictures of her lying lifeless in a coma, tubes running out of her mouth, wires sticking to almost every surface of her body, my legs go numb. The cinema of memories continue to come. Chloe’s anguish when she found out about Sara, my heart slows its beats. Watching her walk around like a shell of the person she used to be, a tear slips from my eye. Fighting with her at BAR, my shoulders tremble with sadness. Finding the love of my life half dead in a cemetery with the man that contributed to this mess, my fists clench. Learning that she had OD’d while pregnant with my child, I break.