Lost (The Everett Gaming Series Book 5)

by Drew Sera

  “Sunshine, just let me hold you. Shut your eyes and relax.”

  “But, I want you to relax, too. You look so stressed,” I said and glanced back toward the kitchen to see if Colin was close.

  “I will relax once that pretty little head of yours is against my chest and your soft hand is on my stomach.”

  Anthony’s eyes looked so sad and I felt horrible.

  “Please, Sydney,” he whispered.

  There was something about the way he said that. Almost like, he needed it as much as I did. I nodded as he gently tugged on my shirt to settle back down on him. I could hear his heart pounding beneath my ear and carefully set my hand on his stomach. He rewarded me with another kiss on my head.

  “Thank you, sunshine.”

  He covered my hand with his and I listened as his pounding heartbeat begin to calm down.

  Chapter 20

  Tuesday, February 4th

  Anthony

  I woke up sweating and looked over at Colin and Sydney. It was 4:30 in the morning and they were both sleeping and looked at peace. I didn’t want to potentially wake them up so I crept from the bed and headed to the bathroom. I was feeling sick to my stomach and waited until my stomach convulsed and I lost everything in it. Now I felt ice cold. What else is new?

  I pulled my soaked shirt and boxer briefs off and tossed them in the hamper and went to get some dry and warm stuff. My head was full. Full of the nightmare. I needed this shit away from Sydney and Colin.

  I left our bedroom to go downstairs but decided against it when I glanced in the direction of Sydney’s room. From the top of the stairs I could see the bright blue love seat that sat in the center of her room and headed towards it.

  Once I sat down, I hesitantly reached for the notebook that I had been writing in while Sydney was gone. I flipped it open to a blank page and wrote for a little while about my nightmare of being trapped under Paul as his insides poured onto me.

  I’m so glad that mutherfucker is dead.

  But I can’t get the images out of my thoughts. I can smell him on me when I dream.

  Like a dream.

  The whole fucked up thing.

  Like I am watching a movie in my head. But then I wake up to the reality that I killed a man.

  Even though he was a worthless piece of fuck.

  I killed a man…

  I wrote until my eyes were clouded and closed the notebook. I took a slow, deep breath and realized I was shaking.

  Fucking get yourself under control!

  I wanted to be near Sydney and Colin, but I knew I shouldn’t get back into bed next to Sydney. Not with this shit in my head. I went back to our room and stood at the foot of the bed. She was sleeping soundly. I got comfortable on one of the chairs and covered up with a blanket.

  My stomach was fucking around with me. I had to go down to the police station in the morning to give a statement and answer some questions regarding Paul. Will was going with me as my attorney, just in case. Blake was also going and I was kind of glad. I just wanted it over. The detectives I spoke to said it was formality.

  Chris came over again this morning to talk with Sydney a bit on her own as I was getting ready to go to the police station with Will and Blake. I was in the bedroom finishing getting dressed when Colin came in.

  “Hey,”

  I looked up and raised an eyebrow at him wondering why he was up here instead of being downstairs for Sydney. “Hey,” I replied.

  “Blake and Will are here.”

  I nodded and turned away from Colin to sit down and put my shoes on. I knew Colin was still in the room though.

  “Do you want me to go with you, Anth?”

  Fuck, yeah I would have welcomed that but I wasn’t going to leave Sydney home alone or with anyone else now and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to allow her to go to the police station and deal with that shit. He needed to be here for Sydney.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a statement and from what I understand it won’t take very long. And Blake will be there. Sydney needs you here.”

  “Anthony, I’m here for you, too.”

  “I know and thank you, but this won’t take long. I’m almost ready.”

  I fumbled with my shoes for a bit longer hoping Colin would go back downstairs to be near Sydney, but he hung around so I finally stood. He handed me my sport coat and when I put it on, I could feel something crinkle in one of the pockets. I reached in the jacket and pulled out a tiny bag of M&M’s and a card. I looked up at Colin and opened the card.

  “With sincerest wishes,” I read aloud the outside of the card and looked up at Colin smiling.

  “Go on, read the rest.”

  “Sir, my heart hurts for you and the pain that you have suffered because of Paul. You have been so good and patient with me over the months and especially recently. I too, have good ears and am here for you. Love…” Fucking tears. I had to sniffle to keep them from showing themselves. “Love, Sydney.”

  Carefully, I took a deep breath and looked at the opposite side of the card.

  “Keep going. Out loud,” Colin prodded.

  “Anth, you are the strongest guy I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lean. I’m sturdy and will gladly help ease the weight that is on your shoulders. Don’t be afraid to take it easy. You’re recovering too. We’re here for you and love you. With love, Col.”

  I kept my head down so I could get my emotions in check. The card had an ocean scene on it and the sand had a textured feel to it. I looked up at Colin and thanked him for the card with a hug. It meant a lot to me and I tried to get my voice under control and suddenly I wasn’t feeling so strong. I certainly wasn’t feeling as strong as I’ve let on.

  “I mean it, Anth. We’re here for you.”

  I nodded and pulled away from the hug and cautiously took a slow, deep breath. I slipped the card back in my sport coat along with the candy as we walked down the stairs to where Will and Blake were waiting.

  We waited to speak until we were clear of the great room where Sydney and Chris were talking. Colin walked out on the porch with us and Will told him that he didn’t think we’d be long. There was something about the way Colin looked over at me after Will spoke. I can’t place my finger on it exactly, but I felt as if he was making sure I was okay with going without him. I assured him it would be fine.

  “We’ll be here when you get back.”

  I nodded and followed Blake and Will to Will’s car. I volunteered to ride in the back so I wasn’t forced to make small chit chat. I sat quietly and pulled the card from my sport coat and read it over and over until Will parked at the police station.

  “Remember, they’re just asking a few questions. Keep calm and it’ll be over before you know it.”

  I followed Will and Blake into the station and I sat down while Will went to the desk. I put my hand inside my jacket to feel the card.

  “Are you nervous?” Blake asked.

  I shook my head. I knew what happened out there and Blake and Detective Prestin were both witnesses. I wasn’t nervous; I just wanted it over so I could move forward.

  “I’m fine, Blake.”

  “Anthony, they’re ready,” Will said as he stood in front of me.

  I took a deep breath, stood and followed Will and another detective down the hall to a room with a table and set of chairs. Fuck, this was like what you see in the movies or on T.V. I sat down next to Will and another detective sat in front of us.

  “Mr. Graves, I’m Detective Nilson. We won’t keep you too long. We just need your statement as to what happened when you gave chase to Mr. Fielding and confirmation regarding a few items.”

  My mind began to race. What the fuck confirmation on items are they looking for? Maybe the gun or knife, I thought. Curiosity loomed and I sat up straighter in my chair. Will put his fucking hand on my shoulder and asked if I wanted water. Maybe I looked like I was suddenly feeling ill and if he didn’t keep his hand off of me I might be ill. Or get arrested for slugg
ing the shit out of my attorney. I knew he was doing it to be supportive but I didn’t care for it. Another officer brought a bottle of water into the room and Will opened it for me.

  “Let’s start with what happened after you arrived at Mr. Fielding’s cabin when you and Mr. Eriksson left Mr. Everett’s Range Rover.”

  Fuck, that’s a lot of misters. The presentation of the event was hilarious to me, but I refrained from laughing. It would have been deemed “inappropriate”.

  I had committed that night to memory and was able to give Detective Nilson the series of events as they occurred. The detective took some notes and nodded as I spoke. He wasn’t difficult to talk with; it was just an uncomfortable conversation.

  “Mr. Graves, Detective Prestin’s report included that after you were shot in the chest that Mr. Fielding was continuing the be physically aggressive with you. Detective Prestin’s report stated that you were clearly at a disadvantage and being somewhat manhandled.”

  My mouth went dry. I wondered why that was important. Detective Nilson continued to look at me as Will reached for the bottle of water then handed it to me.

  “You hadn’t mentioned that, but since it was in Detective Prestin’s report, I wanted to confirm that the information is accurate.”

  I nodded and Nilson continued to look at me as if my nodding confirmation wasn’t fucking good enough.

  “Yes, that’s accurate,” I confirmed as he went back to writing.

  “Thank you. Just a few more minutes and we’ll be done.”

  The detective pulled over a folder and opened it, exposing a few photos. What the ever-loving fuck? I couldn’t hide my shock. He turned the photos around and slid them over to between Will and I. I’m not certain, but I’m sure the word “fuck” slipped out of my mouth.

  “I know the photo quality isn’t perfect, especially given the darkness, but our detectives take photos with their phones while in the field whenever possible and end up making huge differences in cases and investigations. Can you confirm these photos are of you and Mr. Fielding?”

  It was an odd feeling seeing it from Prestin’s perspective. I was on the ground in all of the pictures, under Paul. One photo had the gun pointed at me, then the photo that followed had me reaching or holding my chest while Paul’s hands were busy fucking around with me. The last photo was enough to turn anyone’s stomach. It was the aftermath of Paul’s remains after I emptied the gun into his head. It was beyond messy and disturbing. I felt as ice cold sitting there as I did that night in the snow. I pushed my chair back and focused on the floor trying to decide how urgently I needed a bathroom.

  “Jesus,” Will muttered and put his hand on my shoulder, which brought me out of my trance and I shook him off while I reached for the water.

  “Mr. Graves? Mr. Graves, I know these photos aren’t easy to look at. Are these photos of you and Mr. Fielding?” Nilson asked in a calm, softer tone.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re certain?” He asked again.

  I looked at him like he was fucking nuts. Yeah, I was pretty fucking sure. I could show him where the bullet entered my body if he’d fucking like.

  “It’s me…and him. I confirm it’s us. Do you need anything else from me?” I barely got out. I urgently needed out of there before I snapped his head off or threw up on the desk.

  “No, Mr. Graves. That’s all. Here are some pieces of literature for post-traumatic stress. It includes some signs and symptoms and some contact information for counselors that specialize in talking with victims of traumatic crimes.”

  What the mother fuck? A victim of a traumatic crime certainly wasn’t me. I was sure of that. Not me. I grabbed the papers and bolted from the room and found the bathroom with Will behind me. I quickly went into a stall and shut the door behind me just in time for my toast to come up. Now I felt hot and like I was burning up. I heard the bathroom door open and then I heard Will’s voice. Slowly, I took a few slow, deep breaths and held my hand over my chest.

  “Anthony?”

  “Yep,” was all I could say at the moment. Despite taking another cautious, deep breath I still felt out of control. “Give me a sec.”

  I hadn’t expected that he would let me be for a few minutes since I never heard the door open back up. Of course. When I thought my stomach was going to behave, I opened the door and went to the sinks, but didn’t make eye contact. Will was leaning on the counter and I could feel his eyes burning holes through me. I splashed some water on my face and pressed a paper towel against my eyes.

  “Here, man.”

  Will reached in his suit jacket and pulled out a box of mints and poured some into my hand, and I shoved them all in my mouth. He put his hand on my shoulder and it was about all I could take. I knew he was doing it to be supportive, but I didn’t want him touching me. I made a move to wash my hands and then thought of Blake.

  “Will, has Blake gone back there yet?”

  “No, Blake doesn’t know we’re done. Anthony.” Will tried to get me to acknowledge him but I continued to focus on washing my hands.

  “Anthony,” there was something about his tone that aggravated the hell out of me. I tried pushing it out of my mind and continued washing my hands. He gripped my upper arm and tried pulling me from the sink. “Anthony, your hands are clean. Relax.”

  I jerked away from him and grabbed the paper towels he held out for me. I apologized. He was just trying to help.

  “Will, please don’t make Blake sit through that.”

  “Anthony, you shouldn’t have sat through that. Again. I am at fault for that. They sprung those pictures on us and I couldn’t even think. I let you down.”

  “Fuck that. You didn’t let me down. Just, please go in there with Blake.”

  I followed Will out of the bathroom and down the hall to the waiting area where Blake was at. He stood with a frown when he saw us. Shit, my face must be screaming. Blake is overprotective of me and went into parent mode. He came over and put his hand on my shoulders to steady me. I shook my head and stepped out of his grip. Will, Blake, and I stood there facing one another.

  “Will, what the hell happened?” Blake asked but Will didn’t get the chance to answer because Detective Nilson entered the waiting room and came over.

  “Mr. Graves, everything alright?” Nilson asked. I just nodded and made a noise of agreement with him. “Mr. Eriksson, if you’re ready?”

  “Anthony,” Blake started but I shook my head at him again so he wouldn’t start in on me. Will kept his eyes on me and I shook him off too. Blake and Will eventually followed Nilson down the hall.

  I needed to keep moving and paced around the lobby for a few minutes before I felt like I couldn’t get enough air. I hope Blake doesn’t have to look at the pictures. Fuck, then Will is going to have to look at them again. I needed air. I headed outside and my feet kept propelling me forward. I walked down the sidewalk and a bus had just pulled up to the stop outside the police station.

  For whatever reason, I got on. Was I running away from the shit on my plate? Maybe. I sat down and stared at the curled papers I held in my sweaty hands. Traumatic crime victim...I think not.

  I reached in my pocket for my cell phone and sent Blake a text.

  AG: Need some space. Sorry.

  I looked at it and even though I felt it was a pathetic, cowardly text, I still hit the send button. As I expected, my phone lit up shortly after I hit send.

  BE: I understand you want to seclude yourself, but it’s not what you need.

  I frowned when I saw that. I’m so fucking tired of people telling me what I need. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the card from Sydney and Colin. I read it over and over before the ache in my chest got so bad that I couldn’t help but cough hard. I’m sure someone will remind me that I need my medicine soon.

  BE: Tell me where you are. You and I can drive around for a while.

  I ran my hand over the card with the textured sand and put my phone back in my jacket. I looked outside at th
e passing houses, businesses and hotels. I looked at everything, yet saw nothing. All that ran through my head were those fucking pictures, but in live action and with sensations. The struggle…the reminder of what it feels like to physically fight with someone who wants you dead…the smell of the gun going off…the sound of the gun going off…the cold ground from the snow…fighting for the gun…the warmth from Paul’s insides as they spilled onto me. It was so fucking warm and it smelled like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The feeling of his body falling onto me, yet surrounding me was the strangest sensation. The weight of his body wasn’t evenly distributed…it just fucking spilled everywhere.

  Fuck. I needed off the bus. I felt warm and my heart was racing. What the fuck? I needed some air and quickly. My knees began bouncing nervously and I knew I was sweating. I braced my forearms on the seat back of the vacant seat in front of me and leaned my head on it. I tried taking some deeps breaths but it kept getting stuck in my chest. Fucking calm down!

  I felt the bus slowing down and then the terrible squeaking noise of the brakes that kicked in as the bus came to a halt. I bolted from the bus and once outside I leaned my head back to get a few calm breaths of air. I shut my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. I’ve never concentrated so hard on my breathing before. I paid ridiculous amounts of attention to the sound of inhaling air and exhaling it slowly. I even noticed the wheezing sound that accompanied each exhale.

  With the breathing under control, I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. First thing I noticed was that it was raining lightly…fabulous. I was at the northwest corner of Las Vegas Boulevard and Flamingo Road in front of Caesar’s Palace. I headed south and walked along the sidewalks, roaming without direction or purpose. The rain was very light and I barely noticed as I moved along the Strip. My head was full and I ached everywhere. And I mean everywhere: head to toe, inside and out.