by R. Linda
“Where is she now?” I asked quietly, not trusting my voice to hold up if I tried to speak louder.
“Our room with Indie,” Jack said, pulling the car into the parking lot in front of our dorm.
I jumped out of the car before it had come to a complete stop, needing to get to Bailey. I had to see for myself that she was unharmed. I ran through the parking lot, knocking some dude out of the way as I ran, and darted through the doors to the dorms, up the stairs, and burst through my bedroom door.
“Shhh,” Indie said, pressing a finger to her lips.
Bailey was curled in a ball, fast asleep, her head on Indie’s shoulder. She looked so childlike and fragile. I wanted to pick her up and cradle her, wrap her in cotton wool and never let her out of my sight again.
“She okay?”
Indie nodded. “Fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago.”
I sat on the bed and placed my hand on her hip, leaning over, trying to inspect her for any injuries. Indie lifted Bailey’s arm, the one she was hugging to her chest, and pointed to the light bruising on her wrists.
My jaw clenched, and I stood.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Indie whispered as I traced my fingers over the raw skin on Bailey’s wrist. “But don’t. Not tonight. Tonight, she needs you. Chace will still be murderable tomorrow.”
As much as I hated to admit it, Indie was right.
Jack walked through the door, and I began pacing, pulling on the ends of my hair. I felt so helpless. I should have been there. I should have found us a place weeks ago.
“So, do I need to get my shovel?” Jack asked with eyebrows raised hopefully.
“There will be no burying any bodies tonight,” Indie hissed. “Leave that for tomorrow, so I can help.”
“Need my axe to cut his balls off?” Jack asked, and if I didn’t know him, I’d seriously be questioning his sanity. Axe. Shovel. Actually, I did know him, and I still questioned his sanity.
“I was thinking garden shears,” Indie whispered, brushing Bailey’s hair behind her ear.
“Oh, I’ve got those too.”
“Of course, you do.”
“Okay, well. If you two don’t mind. I think I need to be here for Bailey now, so…” I looked at the door.
Jack frowned, and Indie pursed her lips. “If you think I’m leaving, you can think again. I’m not leaving her. Not tonight,” she said, kicking her Chucks off and getting comfortable on my pillow.
“Fine, you stay, but over there.” I pointed at Jack’s bed.
“Nope. I’m staying right here with Bailey. Suck it up, Jones.”
“Whatever.” I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I just wanted to hold my girl. I took off my shoes and climbed on the bed behind Bailey, wrapping my arm around her waist.
I wanted to talk to her, make sure she was okay, but I didn’t want to wake her. After what she went through, she needed to sleep, so I settled on holding her and listening to her breathe.
Jack pulled the covers off his bed and threw them over us. “Don’t leave me out,” he said sliding under the covers behind Indie. “I want to be here for her too.”
I huffed out a breath. Jesus fucking Christ. Let’s just have a party in my bed. “Just everyone keep their hands to themselves, okay?”
“Okay,” Jack and Indie agreed in unison.
Bailey whimpered in her sleep, and everyone froze. Indie’s hand stayed on Bailey’s cheek, my arm hugged her tight, and Jack held her hand. And that was where we stayed until we fell asleep. Four of us in my bed, because we all loved the beautiful, broken girl between us.
***
I woke in the morning, too hot. Bailey had rolled over to face me through the night. Her head was on my chest and her arm around my waist. Indie was cuddled up behind Bailey with her arm around her waist, and Jack…he was stretched out on the other side of the bed like a starfish, taking up so much room that Bailey, Indie, and I were pressed together in the smallest space.
Hanging my leg outside the cover, I tried to cool down without moving. I didn’t want to wake anyone. Except maybe Jack to tell him to get in his own bed.
Bailey stretched and tilted her face to look at me. Tears welled in her eyes, and she hugged me tighter. “I’m sorry.”
Pinching her chin with my thumb, I told her, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love. Are you okay?”
She shrugged, and then her eyebrows pulled together in a frown and she looked down. “Did you grow an extra arm I didn’t know about?”
“No, love.” I chuckled, happy she still had her humour.
“Then why is there an extra arm around my waist?”
“Because I refused to leave you last night,” Indie mumbled from behind Bailey, squeezing her tighter and slapping her hand around, trying to find Bailey’s mouth. “Shhh. Sleep.”
“Thank you,” Bailey whispered, her voice breaking at the end. Tears fell down her cheeks as she rested her head on my chest again. I wasn’t sure she was thanking me or Indie, but it didn’t matter. We were all here for her.
“He’s a dead man, love. He won’t get away with this,” I promised her.
“Good,” she sniffed. “There was something really not right with him last night. I don’t know if he was on something or what. But I’ve never seen anyone like that before.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s going to suffer.”
“It’s true. We have it all planned out,” Indie added, her voice more enthusiastic as she woke properly. “I’m going to cut his balls off with Jack’s garden shears. Ryder’s going to beat him to death with a stick wrapped in barbed wire, and Jack is going to bring the shovel.”
Bailey laughed, and it was the sweetest sound. “Where is Jack?”
“Right behind you, angel face.” He rolled onto his side and smiled. “How are you feeling?”
Bailey pushed herself up, climbed over Indie, and threw herself at Jack. “Thank you,” she cried into his chest. “Thank you for saving me.”
Jack wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have to thank me, angel. Hmmm…” he mused. “Dreams really do come true.”
Bailey sat back and wiped her tears. “How so?”
“Well, I’ve always dreamed of sharing a bed with Ryder, and what do you know? Here we are. A foursome. A lot less nudity than my dreams, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
There he was.
Jack was back.
He didn’t do well with emotions and intense feelings, so he always covered his awkwardness with inappropriate comments.
Bailey laughed. Indie slapped him on the back of the head, but I couldn’t bring myself to complain. He made Bailey laugh, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryder
Usually, I had a voice of reason in my ear telling me when enough was enough. It sounded a lot like Bailey. It felt a lot like Bailey. Okay, so it was Bailey.
She was always the first one there when I got out of control. Always the one to bring me back down to Earth.
This time, she didn’t.
This time, she kissed me goodbye and told me, “Be careful. Don’t get hurt.”
Premeditated, the cops said.
Just because I set out specifically to look for Chace and beat the life out of him. Obviously, I didn’t plan it too well because the fucker was still alive. I should have picked a more secluded place. One off campus, so campus security couldn’t arrest me.
They were the voice of reason this time. And they may have suffered the consequences. Word to the wise, do not get in the way of a raging bull if you’re wearing red. Likewise, do not get in the way of a man standing up for the woman he loves. It won’t end well. Hell, they probably would have had better luck with a raging bull than trying to stop me from turning Chace’s brain to soup.
I argued with the cops that it wasn’t premeditated. That I just happened to be passing by Chace’s car as he approached. The fact I had been circling the parking lot for two hour
s while I waited for him to show his pathetic face was a detail the cops didn’t need to know.
Lurking in the shadows, I watched as Chace walked over to his car. I was impressed. Jack got in a few good shots, judging by the black eye and limp he had. I waited until Chace passed the spot where I was hiding, and I jumped him.
Not my finest moment, I knew. But all bets were off when it came to Chace.
I had to get him when he least expected it. I couldn’t let him walk around campus as though nothing had happened.
Indie had taken Bailey to the police station to give them a report of what happened last night. No one wanted Chace thinking he got away with it, because if he did, he’d try it again with someone else, and maybe that person wouldn’t be as lucky as Bailey was.
Chace didn’t even know what hit him until it was too late, and by then I couldn’t stop. I punched him over and over and over, listening to the satisfying crack of his nose and cheekbone when they broke beneath my fist. I kicked him until he collapsed, and then I kicked him some more.
I always followed the rule, “never kick a man when he’s down.”
That rule in no way whatsoever applied to Chace. I was more than happy to kick him when he was down, over and over. He deserved it. He tried to fight back, but he couldn’t. My blood was boiling, and my vision was white with rage. I was vaguely aware of people gathering around us, but all I could see was Chace. All I could feel was the throbbing in my knuckles, the sting where I shredded my skin punching him in the mouth.
Voices shouted, but I didn’t understand them. Arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me away from Chace, but he was still breathing, and I wasn’t done yet. I struggled against the hold, kicking my legs out until I broke free. Turning around, I pulled my fist back and let it fly forward into the face of a campus guard.
He felt to the ground, cradling his jaw.
Served him right. He shouldn’t have gotten in the way.
I lunged for Chace again and was pulled back. Swinging my fists blindly behind me, I tried to hit whoever it was holding me back. But they were strong, and they weren’t having any of it.
“Stop.” I recognised Jayden’s voice.
Telling me to stop only had the opposite effect. I tried again to get out of his hold, and that was when I realised there were two of them.
“You don’t want to do this,” Jayden said.
“But I do. He attacked Bailey,” I growled.
Jayden released his grip on me immediately and pushed me into Cohen before walking over to where Chace lay bleeding on the ground. He gripped his shirt and brought Chace’s face to his. “Told you he’d kill you. Maybe I should let him.” And then he clenched his fist and punched Chace one more time, dropping him on the ground.
Chace’s eyes closed, and he didn’t move. He was either knocked out or dead. Personally, I was hoping for the latter, but my luck was never that great.
A few minutes later, more campus security showed, along with an ambulance and a couple of cop cars. I pushed Jayden away. “Go. No point in you being arrested.”
He nodded and hurried away with Cohen. I could have tried to make an escape, but it would have been useless. Forty people watched me beat the hell out of Chace. There was nowhere I could go that I wouldn’t be found.
“What happened here, son?” A big guy with a scruffy beard and beer gut stood in front of me. His name tag read “sergeant.”
“Ooh, sending out the big guns, huh?”
“Don’t get smart with me. Want to tell me what happened here?”
“He fell.”
I was asking for all sorts of trouble not giving him a straight answer, but I was still buzzing from the adrenaline of kicking Chace’s ass and I just didn’t care.
“You gonna make this difficult?”
“How about I make it really easy? Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.” I held out my wrists. “You should probably just arrest me.”
The sergeant narrowed his gaze on me as though trying to work out what sort of game I was playing.
I wasn’t playing one. Not really.
They cuffed me and threw me in the back of the police car. I watched as Chace was loaded onto a stretcher and taken away in the ambulance.
The cops were getting witness statements from everyone who cared to hang around, and eventually, I was taken to the station.
I sat in the interrogation room for hours, answering their questions. I didn’t know why it took so long. I admitted to beating Chace. I had blood all over my hands. Literally and figuratively. They had multiple witness statements saying I was acting like a crazed lunatic. I gave myself up willingly. And I told them every detail about my relationship with Chace since high school.
Yet they still wanted more. I was exhausted, and cranky, and my knuckles really freaking hurt. They were black and blue and swollen.
Worth it.
***
“What the hell did you do, you little shit?” Johnny’s voice woke me from my sleep. I opened my eyes and sat up, the cold metal bench leaving me with a sore neck.
“Got myself into some trouble.”
“No shit. They weren’t going to let me in to see you.”
“I know. They won’t let Bailey in either.”
Johnny leaned against the bars. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“I got into a fight.”
“Dammit, kid, I’ve seen you fight. This wasn’t a normal fight. What happened?”
“Can you get me out of here or not?” I asked.
“Working on it, but it takes time, so spill.”
I shrugged. “Chace tried to rape Bailey, so I snapped and tried to kill him.”
“Shhh.” Johnny looked over his shoulder. “Shut up. Don’t go saying crap like that in here. You want to be locked up for good?”
“No, that’s why I called you.”
“Well, see, the thing is, you’re up against Chace. His family has connections.”
“Aren’t you connected to the mafia or something?”
“Distantly. They can’t help.” He waved me off. “You put him in hospital, kid. That’s a serious offence.”
“I was aiming for a grave.”
“Dammit.” He threw his hands in the air and began pacing in front of my holding cell. “I give up. You need to take this seriously. They want to throw the book at you. Lock you up. You’re looking at ten years if we can’t get a deal.”
“Ten years?” Shit, I didn’t think it was that bad.
“Yes. Look, they got a lawyer in there for you now. A public defender. He’s trying to get you a deal. Whatever it is, take it. Anything is better than ten years in the clink.”
“Shit.” I groaned and pulled my hair. “Can you call Bailey and tell her what’s going on?”
“Already done. She’s freaking out.”
“Jones. Your lawyer wants to see you,” yet another cop said, walking toward my cell. He looked at me for approval, like I could say no, I didn’t want to see my lawyer.
“They trying to get me out of here?”
“Don’t know. Meet with him and find out.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
The cop unlocked my cell and led me down a narrow hall to another small room.
“You can wait out here,” he said to Johnny.
“Like hell. I’m going with the kid to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
I raised my eyebrow.
“Anything else stupid,” he amended.
We walked into the room and sat on the cold metal chairs, waiting for the lawyer to arrive.
“Bailey okay?” Johnny asked.
“She’s tough. Jack got there just in time.”
The door opened, and in walked a dude who couldn’t have been much older than I was. His grey suit was ill-fitting, and his hair had so much product in it that he could start his own salon.
I shot a questioning look at Johnny, who just shrugged. “This guy?”
If the lawyer heard me ask it, he didn’t
let on.
“Are you old enough to do this?” I asked the kid in front of me.
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, I guess that settles it, then.” I stared wide-eyed at Johnny. Who was this kid? He was in charge of my freedom.
“So, Mr. Jones, you understand the charges laid on you?”
“I guess.”
“And you still maintain that you did it?”
I waved my hands in front of his face. “Kind of hard to deny it with his blood still under my fingernails, and his teeth left impressions on my knuckles.”
“Right. Okay. Bail has been set, and if you can come up with the funds, then you’re free to go. A hearing will be scheduled in the near future to determine whether this case needs to go to trial, or a deal can be made. Would you be willing to take a deal? If you don’t, you could be facing ten years in prison, maybe longer. But under the circumstances, I think we can get you a deal.”
“Under the circumstances?”
“Every single eyewitness testimony says you were like a man possessed. That you completely flipped the switch when you attacked the victim.”
“Douche face. His name is douche face.”
My lawyer didn’t look amused, but surprisingly, Johnny choked back what sounded like a laugh.
“Anyway, with those statements, I think we could sway a judge to cut you a deal, based on temporary insanity. You said yourself that everything was a blur, your vision was cloudy, and you barely remember anything.”
“I wasn’t insane. I was furiously pissed off.”
“Which caused a moment of mental weakness in which you lashed out at the victim. In your mind, you were acting in defence of another. In your case, your girlfriend. You were defending her. Saving her.”
“I was making him suffer for hurting her. There’s a difference.”
“Doesn’t matter. If we can convince the judge and the prosecutor, then you might be in with a chance. Look, don’t worry about it now. Pay your bail—”