Max thought about asking Jay, but decided he would just grab it and tell him. They were practically brothers.
He opened Jay’s closet and fingered through several things hanging there until he found the jacket he was looking for. The second he took it off the rack he was hit in the head by something falling off the top shelf. He staggered back in a defensive posture. He felt like a total wussy when he saw it was just a small box that had spilled some random junk onto the floor.
So much for grabbing the jacket discreetly.
Max bent down and picked up the items, casually glancing at them. There were a few decks of nudie playing cards, a crossword puzzle with dirty words, a pair of fake magic hand cuffs, and a little book of magic tricks. He remembered at one time that Jay was really into that sort of stuff.
The last item caught his eye. It was a picture of Jay and another man. He recognized the man as Henry Moran. Henry Moran was dead in the picture. He was lying on the floor in Jay’s room, a rope tied around his neck.
Henry died here. He died in this room.
“What the fuck?” Max muttered breathlessly.
“Find something?”
The voice startled him as he spun around and found Jay in his face blocking the only exit out of the room. The look on Jay’s face was one that Max had never seen before. It was cocky, and menacing. It reminded him of the same look that Emily had that night that she had almost killed Jay.
“What is going on?” Max asked.
“Shit, man. I wish you hadn’t found that. I’m not even sure why I took that picture or kept it. I guess if you do something like that, it seems a waste not to capture the moment so you can reminisce about it from time to time, right?”
“Are you out of your mind? What did you do?”
“I did what I had to do. For us,” Jay said. “When I read that script I realized it was special and I knew that if our movie was going to be huge we had to do that script. That story was amazing. It was one of the best things I’d ever read. But Henry wouldn’t give it up. He said he was determined to direct and make his own movie. He wanted it to be all his vision and knew that directors would try to change it and make it different. I tried to explain to him that we weren’t like that, but he wouldn’t have any of it.”
“Oh, my God man. What did you do?”
“I had to kill him, man. Don’t you understand? I did it for us. I did it for our film.”
“I don’t believe this, man. You aren’t a killer.”
“You’d be surprised what you are capable of when you take a leap and just do it. It was easy. I beat his ass, strangled him with the rope, and took him to the track. He was already drunk and going on about that stupid chick. It was the perfect story and it worked beautifully.”
“Are you nuts? It got three of our friends killed and almost got us both killed!” Max yelled.
“Yea, well I didn’t count on that chick being a total psycho. Man, I thought she was going to cut me up good. But it all worked out.”
“I have to call Gellar. They have to know what happened,” Max said.
“What good will that do? The man is dead. All of this is ancient history.”
“It’s not right. I can’t just forget about this. I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” Jay said pulling a knife from his pocket. It was a large switchblade. He popped the blade out. “I’ll have to take care of it.”
Before he could blink Jay was on him, the knife bearing down hard on him. Max stumbled back, whacking his head hard on the wall but keeping his focus on the knife coming at his head. He held up both arms holding Jay’s knife wielding arm at bay while he came forward.
Max’s feet slipped and he fell to the floor hard on his back. The world went black for a second, but he regained his composure and tried to fight back as best he could with every ounce of strength left in him. Jay was using both arms now, pushing down with his weight. The knife was inching closer and closer to Max’s face. He could practically smell the steel now.
It was no use. Jay outweighed him by at least seventy pounds of muscle. This was it. Max was a goner. He couldn’t understand why it had to end this way. Why?
The gunshot rang out in the room as a spray of blood spewed from Jay’s head, covering Max’s face in a layer of sticky, disgusting blood.
Jay’s body fell to the floor beside him, almost exactly where Emily’s body had come to rest a month earlier.
Max looked at Jay, his lifeless expressionless face only inches from his.
Then Max looked over at Gellar. She was standing there holding the gun, smoke still spewing from the barrel.
“My keys fell out of my pocket in the couch. I came back in and heard the commotion.”
Max closed his eyes and began to laugh as the tears fell from his eyes.
Gellar helped him up and they walked out of the house together. It felt like they were hammering in the final nail on a coffin of nightmares that they were going to bury and never set eyes on again.
It was over. The good guys won.
Max could almost hear an uplifting soundtrack ringing in his ears as his movie ended.
Other books available by T.S. Worthington on Kindle, paperback and audio:
Darker Still
Payback
Rising Darkness
Grip of Night
Final Cut
Cutting Room Page 11