Brightest As We Fall

by Cleo Peitsche

  Shot drops the plastic bin on one of the sofas. “That woman is getting on my last nerve,” he says. “I can’t think when she acts like that.”

  “Then you should break up,” I say.

  “I plan to.”

  Jason crosses his thick arms over his chest. “How do you propose we handle this, Shot?”

  Shot chortles. “You talk just like AJ,” he says. “Did you know that?”

  Jason doesn’t react. I’m confused, but now isn’t the time to break down Jason’s stylistic influences. Also, if I start talking I probably won’t shut up until someone gags me, so I keep my mouth shut.

  “All I want is for you to pay for the damned documents,” Shot says, looking irritated.

  “How much?”

  Shot rolls his eyes, somehow using his whole body to convey his frustration. “I’m not trying to shake you down. Fuck, Jason. I wanna get you good documents, and I don’t want to haggle over the price.”

  “Twenty grand.”

  “Ten would have been fine.”

  “I’m feeling generous,” Jason says. “A bonus for doing excellent work.”

  “All right. Whatever.”

  It blows my mind that Shot doesn’t care about an extra ten grand. Maybe crime doesn’t pay in general, but identity theft sure must. Knowing what these people do for money makes me feel sick. Anita said “forgery,” but that’s not some victimless crime, and I can’t believe I forgot that for even a second. Jason really is rubbing off on me.

  A chime sounds, then an ominous rumble that makes me think of distant thunder heralding a violent storm.

  “What’s that?” Jason asks, on edge again.

  “Proximity alert for the porch. It’s probably UPS or FedEx. Anita is always ordering shit online. They come as late as midnight. The other noise is the dog.” Shot trudges up the stairs with his plastic box.

  Jason is by my side in a heartbeat. “We have to leave.”

  Chapter 37

  DeeAnn’s panic was on full display in her dark amber eyes. “Is it time to freak out?”

  “Not yet.” Jason wanted to punch something. Instead, he gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she insisted.

  Faint male voices could be heard upstairs.

  “Wait here,” Jason whispered. “Better yet, start looking for another way out. If you find one, use it.”

  “Do you think AJ sent someone?”

  Not unless you believe in ghosts. “If anyone comes, it’ll be the Jack Rebels. And it won’t be today.” He dug the car keys out of his pocket and gave them to DeeAnn.

  “I can’t leave you.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he said, brushed a kiss on the top of her head, then quietly climbed the stairs, resisting the urge to look back, to make sure she was obeying him.

  Shot hadn’t shut the door all the way. Jason eased himself onto the top step and turned his ear to the crack.

  “I’m busy,” Shot was saying. “But come back tomorrow and we’ll have some beers.”

  A man spoke, his voice too muffled for Jason to catch more than a few words. Something about gravel, maybe.

  Then, a woman’s voice. “Anyone want iced tea while you’re waiting?”

  Anita didn’t sound as welcoming as she had when Jason and DeeAnn arrived. Jason didn’t know if she disliked these unexpected visitors, whoever they were, or if she was still angry about earlier.

  Jason pushed the door open and was relieved when it swung silently on its hinges. Where he stood, he couldn’t hear anything more, so he skulked toward the dining room, staying away from the closed door.

  “It’d be better if you come back,” Shot said.

  “We don’t have time tomorrow,” one of the voices said. “Make my iced tea of the Long Island variety.”

  “Whose car is that?” a second voice asked. “It’s got Alabama plates.”

  “Friends visiting from out of town,” Anita said. “They’re asleep, exhausted from their trip.”

  Good, Anita, Jason thought. She’d always been discreet, and she was capable of sweet-talking a tornado out of twisting. She’d have made an excellent spy.

  “Friends of yours?” the second voice asked. “From school?”

  Jason thought the man sounded too interested.

  “Where are those drinks?” Shot asked.

  “Hold your horses,” Anita said. Her footsteps approached the kitchen door. When she entered, Jason leaned from his shadowy hiding place and waved to catch her attention.

  She nodded, turned the water on full blast, then crossed the room to him. “Clients. We’re trying to get rid of them but it’s not easy.”

  “What’s their business?”

  “Stolen credit card numbers, mostly, but also work papers and car registrations. They work solo.”

  Solo was good. Some of the tension eased from Jason’s chest. “We’ll be napping downstairs until they go.” He backtracked, shut the basement door, and crept down the stairs.

  DeeAnn was standing where he’d left her, a terrified look on her face. “I have a bad feeling,” she said.

  “It’s just a couple of Shot’s clients. They’ll be gone once they get what they want. Did you find an exit?”

  She pointed toward the wet bar. “There’s a door, but they’ve got an alarm system. I found three windows, all rigged, I think.”

  Jason doubted DeeAnn would know the difference between an alarmed and an unalarmed window. When he investigated, he found security system stickers and wires. The stickers were fake, but the wires weren’t. He finished his search of the basement, scowled with irritation at the back door, then joined DeeAnn on the sofa. She’d removed her shoes and was curled up and staring at the wall.

  “You were right,” Jason said. “If we open the door, it’s going to scream.”

  “You can’t disable it?”

  “Not my area of expertise.” He shook his head and sat beside DeeAnn. There was no reason to explain that it was a homemade job, and a damned good one. After all, Shot dealt with criminals.

  “What do we do?”

  “Hang tight for now.” He filled DeeAnn in on what he’d learned upstairs. When he mentioned the stolen credit cards, she stiffened, then relaxed. He didn’t know how he felt about that. She was getting less uptight, which made his life easier, but he didn’t feel great about corrupting her.

  He cleared his throat. “Remember when I said you’re a badass and you can make yourself into anything you want?”

  “You didn’t say it like that, though.” She exhaled a soft laugh through her nose.

  “Well, I was wrong to be sarcastic. You can be anything you want, DeeAnn. But you shouldn’t have to.”

  “Oh,” she murmured. “Kinda don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing to say.”

  They sat quietly, waiting.

  Occasionally, Jason heard someone walking in the room above them. He thought about possible escape plans.

  “Wanna watch a movie with the sound off?”

  “Not really.” But DeeAnn handed him the remote from the glass coffee table, then settled in beside him. A small blanket hung off the back of the sofa. Jason used it to cover her legs and torso.

  She smiled up at him. “Glad it doesn’t smell like dog.”

  Jason sniffed. “I only smell pot,” he said, and DeeAnn laughed.

  She shifted around, getting comfortable, and ended up with her head in his lap. Her eyes closed and her face relaxed almost immediately.

  The TV was showing a kid’s movie about trolls. He left it there, the sound muted.

  Instead of watching the movie, he planned and replanned his next move. He’d gotten them into this situation, and he would have to find a way out.

  Jason knew when the men left, almost three hours later. He heard the door chime and felt an emptiness in the large house.

  The basement door opened. Shot thumped down the steps.

  “They’re gone,” Shot announce
d. “My apologies for making you wait.”

  DeeAnn pushed up, her eyes red and glassy.

  “Dinner’s ready, though.” Shot looked sheepish.

  “We’re leaving,” Jason said.

  Shot shook his head. “You can choke it down fast. Twenty minutes. Please. If you don’t, I’ll get bitched at the rest of the week. Stay, and I’ll have your ID ready first thing tomorrow, even if I have to work all night.”

  Jason didn’t want to. But he didn’t sense a trap, and he decided that if he and DeeAnn could leave here on good terms, that was better in the long run.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Jason growled.

  They traipsed upstairs.

  “You got outta making the salad,” Anita said to DeeAnn.

  Shot ushered them through the kitchen. The table in the dining room was set, nothing fancy.

  Shot started to pull out a chair. Jason shouldered him aside and took the seat for himself. From here, he could see through the den and keep an eye on the front door. He motioned for DeeAnn to sit opposite.

  The tension between Anita and Shot had leeched away, making Jason think they fought often. Who the hell wanted to live like that? For Anita’s sake, he was glad Shot planned to move on.

  “It’s lasagna, homemade last week,” Anita said, carrying in a glass dish. “I always keep extra in the freezer.”

  “Smells scrumptious,” DeeAnn said.

  Anita served up steaming portions. “I know I promised stir-fry, but I figured you two lovebirds would be in a hurry to get back to your nest.”

  “Next time,” DeeAnn said. She sounded like she meant it.

  Jason burned his tongue scarfing down the food. He barely tasted it. DeeAnn was almost as fast.

  “Seconds?” Anita asked, pleased. Jason sent DeeAnn a warning look, but she was already shaking her head and murmuring polite excuses.

  Anita motioned for DeeAnn to help her in the kitchen. “We have gelato for dessert. I buy it from a gourmet grocer in the city.”

  The women walked off, arms full of plates, the dog following them hopefully.

  Jason stood, intending to help clear the table.

  Shot leaned close and said in a quiet voice, “Those guys who came to see me, they were being weird. I’ll meet you with the docs in the morning. Don’t come back here.”

  “Maybe you should have led with that,” Jason growled.

  “Running out the door right after they left wouldn’t have been suspicious at all,” Shot said sarcastically, and Jason wanted to punch him. “I did you a favor. If they’re hanging around, they’ll see you’re acting normal. If anything, I’d say to hold off until after midnight to leave.”

  Jason studied Shot through narrowed eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Uh.” Shot swallowed, making a clicking sound in his throat. “When I heard from you, I don’t know—”

  Jason grabbed the man by his shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Spit it out.”

  Shot shoved him back. “Take it easy, ’roid rage. I’m in the process of telling you.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “I don’t have to say anything at all, you know. How about showing some gratitude?”

  “What the hell?” Anita was in the room, trying to pull Jason away from Shot.

  “Jason?” DeeAnn’s voice stayed steady, but Jason recognized her panic.

  “Talk,” Jason roared.

  DeeAnn screamed in terror.

  Jason turned his head just in time to see the pit bull launching herself at him.

  Chapter 38

  I scream as Wabash collects her weight on her haunches and jumps at Jason.

  “Leave it!” Anita screams.

  The dog literally changes direction in midair. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  “Good girl,” Anita says, calm and cool. She must have ice water in her veins. “That’s my girl. Good girl.” Pointing toward the living room, Anita coos, “Where’s your penguin?”

  The dog hesitates, then explodes in a playful flurry of activity.

  “Tie that thing up,” Jason snarls.

  “No,” Shot says. “She’s trained. You’re shoving me around, what’d you think was going to happen?”

  Jason gets in Shot’s face. I shoot a glance at Anita, but she looks as confused as I feel.

  “After I heard from you,” Shot says, ducking away from Jason, “I made a couple of calls back home.”

  “Jesus,” Jason says. His hands clench and unclench, and he sways backward. “Stop dragging it out. Who’d you call, Shot?”

  “You were acting sketchy as hell. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t landing in the middle of a war.”

  “Who. Did. You. Call.” Jason’s words are controlled and measured, but he exudes danger, like a nuclear reactor about to explode.

  “Herbie.”

  “Who else?”

  “And Little Nick. But that’s it, I swear.”

  From Jason’s reaction, this Little Nick might as well be the devil.

  “What did they say?” Jason demands.

  “They told me about the shootout.”

  “What else?”

  “They asked me to keep you here, said Big Dax would send someone, and I’d be compensated for my trouble. I’d planned to warn you away from coming, but then you fucking just showed up without notice. Who does that?”

  “And now the Tiku brothers know someone was here,” Anita says on a shaky breath. “Those two talk. They’re like a couple of old ladies.”

  Everyone starts talking at once. Jason is demanding details from Shot. Shot is defending himself and accusing Jason of lying. Anita is trying to keep everyone calm, but she’s also pretty pissed at Shot.

  Big Dax? It takes me several seconds to remember that he’s the guy in charge of the Jack Rebels.

  In other words, the man we stole from.

  “I have an idea,” I say.

  No one reacts, so I repeat myself, this time at the top of my lungs. “I have an idea!”

  Three shocked faces swivel my way.

  I smile. “All these Tiku brothers know is that you have guests, and they’ve seen a car with Alabama plates. That’s in our favor. Anita, do you have a friend who could use a free car?”

  Jason is nodding. “Yes. That’ll work.”

  “Geez,” Anita says. “I do, but they’ll know something is up.”

  “Her friends can’t keep their mouths shut,” Shot says.

  “That’s coming from you?” Anita retorts, and then they’re off, squabbling.

  Jason pulls me aside. “It was a good try. I need you to take a deep breath.”

  “What?”

  His eyes stare into mine. “Do you see us as a team?”

  “You know I do,” I say, flustered.

  Jason bends down. When he straightens again, he’s holding a gun.

  “Don’t freak out,” he says. “Cover your ears.”

  He turns, aims at Shot, and pulls the trigger.

  The explosion rings in my ears, so loud that it’s like something has forcibly hit me.

  Shot’s face is white before he hits the floor.

  Blood is everywhere: all over the floor, on the wall behind where Shot was standing. I look down. Red is splattered on my hands and arms, and fuck knows where else, maybe my face.

  Jason is holding his gun on Shot, but now he’s saying something to me. I feel like my entire brain has been pumped full of lidocaine. I try to understand Jason, try to focus on his lips, but all I can think about is Shot.

  Jason just killed someone. His friend. Right in front of me.

  No warning. No fair fight.

  Anita grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me hard. “There are tools in the garage,” she says.

  I stare at Jason and burst into tears. “Please don’t shoot me.”

  He looks… annoyed? “Get the plate, DeeAnn. Holly. Fuck.” His irritation increases. “We don’t have time.”

  And a fact worms through the bubble of inc
omprehension surrounding me. If Jason is barking orders, he’s probably not going to kill me.

  “Don’t kill Anita!”

  She shakes my shoulders. “He’s not killing anyone. He’s actually saving Shot’s life, making the cover story plausible. Now, get the license plate off the red car and bring it in here. You saw the garage when we were outside, right?”

  After a second, I nod. Then I look at Jason, who is saying something to Shot.

  Shot, who is holding his stomach. He’s not dead.

  Then my legs move. Garage. License plate.

  I sprint through the kitchen and across the dark lawn. Even though I know Jason didn’t just murder someone, he did shoot the guy. For all I know, he merely missed.

  Not at that distance.

  The garage doors are down and locked, but I find a regular door on the side, which is unlocked. It seems to be on the same security system as the house, but no alarms sound as I enter.

  The interior is orderly. Two gleaming cars sit side by side. Half of the garage is a workshop. I snatch up three screwdrivers of different sizes and get to work on the flashy convertible.

  By the time I return to the house, Shot has been moved to the couch. His shirt has been torn away and Anita is bent over his wound.

  “Let’s go,” Jason says.

  “One sec, Jason.” Anita pushes roughly on the tea towel she’s holding, making Shot groan. “Don’t be a baby,” she mutters at him. She straightens and looks at Jason. “I’m coming with you.”

  “No.”

  “Baby, what?” Shot moans. “No.” He tries to sit up but fails miserably.

  “Um, yes,” Anita says to Jason. “If you don’t take me, I’ll make sure the Jack Rebels know everything I do. They’ve got a chapter only a few hours from here.”

  In less than a heartbeat, Jason shoves the gun in Anita’s face. “Then I should kill you now.”

  “You could. Or you could bring me and my supplies.”

  “Please don’t hurt her,” I say to Jason, my voice trembling.

  “I’ll make you new ID,” Anita says. “I’m probably the best in the country. And you can drop me off the second you’re tired of me, so long as it’s not literally on the side of a road.”