“Russell!” I wasn’t sure if the scream was audible or only in my head, and I tore off from Neal, jerking free of his grip and running toward Russell’s body.
I made it maybe three feet before Neal’s grip closed around my wrist and yanked me back, using the momentum to slam me into the side of the Subaru and hitting my head for what felt like the billionth time. And then he was shoving me through the driver’s door and across the console. My mind bellowed at me to fight, to run, to do anything I could to get free. To get to Russell.
He was lying like he was dead. Sprawled out under his truck like he was dead.
He couldn’t be. Russell could not be dead.
He couldn’t.
Neal slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the car.
I needed to fight. I needed to run.
Maybe I was. I couldn’t tell. Couldn’t tell what my body was doing, couldn’t tell what was happening beyond the exploding headache and the thundering of my heart racing in my ears.
I needed to fight.
No. I needed to run. I needed to run.
Twisting I grabbed for the door handle, managed to get it in my fingers, before Neal cursed at me again and punched my head into the window.
Blinking, I came to with a groan. My head was throbbing. My brain was screaming. Maybe it was crying. There were other pains too—the soles of my feet, my arms—but they were distant, unimportant. Only the throbbing of my head seemed to matter.
“I’m sorry Jasper.” A hand stroked my thigh, at least I thought. The voice was a billion miles away. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry. It was the only way.”
Blinking some more, I stared into the night, at the trees rushing by.
In a car. I was in a car. With Neal.
Trees continued racing past the window, blurring, making the pain in my head and my eyes worse.
Neal.
The trees gave way, and then Adrian and Micah’s farm flew past us.
The farm. I couldn’t have been out for more than a couple of minutes. We weren’t that far from Lavender Shores.
I pushed myself into a seated position.
“That’s it, baby. You’re okay. Thank God. You’re okay.” Still he stroked my leg.
Though it hurt, I twisted around, looking out the rearview window, expecting lights to be flashing, for the police to be on our tail.
There was only darkness.
No one was coming. No one knew. How would they know? Somehow he’d managed it all in between their rounds.
Had anyone else been close by? I tried to remember. Anyone else in the lot, on the sidewalk?
I didn’t think so. If there had been, they’d have come running; they would’ve helped. There’d only been….
Russell. I’d forgotten about Russell. He’d be coming. Any second, his big old truck would be zooming behind us. He’d be there, and he’d—
And it came back. Russell wasn’t coming. He was dead under his truck.
“No!” I whirled back around, fury taking over, and smashed my fist into the side of Neal’s face. “No!” I hit him again as I screamed. The car swerved. There was a loud bang as his head hit the driver’s side window.
With one hand Neal straightened the wheel and then pulled back his other arm and smashed me in the face with his elbow. Once again I was thrown across the car, and hit the passenger’s side door. Somehow I didn’t bash my head again, but blood gushed from my nose from the impact of Neal’s elbow.
With Russell flashing through my mind, again I lunged, but Neal managed to grip me by the neck while holding the car steady. “I will kill you!” He squeezed, and then shoved once more. That time, the back of my head did hit the window. “Goddammit, Jasper, I don’t want to, but I will fucking kill you.”
I slumped into the seat, letting my back rest against the passenger door. I was dazed, not from the pain, but just the image of Russell lying there.
He couldn’t be dead. He was just unconscious or something. Neal had caught him off guard. Knocked him out. That was it. That had to be it. He’d come to any minute, and then he’d be on his way. Hell, he probably already was. Any second and his truck would zoom up behind us, the flashing lights of the police following closely behind.
There was no zooming truck, no flashing of lights.
I didn’t care. I didn’t need him to be on his way. I didn’t need him to get the police. I just needed him to not be dead.
“What did you do to him?”
I hadn’t even been certain I’d said the words out loud until Neal glanced over at me. He studied me for a second, glanced out at the road again, then back at me. “It doesn’t matter, Jasper. I always knew you were a cheating whore, but now I have proof. You always swore you weren’t cheating, but I knew.” He shook his fist in my face, but I didn’t slink back any further. “I knew! Do you want to deny it now?”
He kept driving, flying down the road, but not looking. I prayed we’d just crash into a tree and get it over with.
“Answer me!”
He was crazy. Maybe he always had been, but I didn’t think so. Or maybe he was just strung out or some wonderful combination of both.
I laughed. I laughed so hard it caused my brain to scream, but I couldn’t stop.
Maybe I was the one who was crazy.
“Are you fucking serious, Neal? Cheating? You were the one who cheated. You were the one who had this whole other life that I was too stupid to see.” The laughter died, and I couldn’t even find anger. It was just too ludicrous. “The whole time you were giving me hell, you were dealing drugs and fucking God knows who.”
I expected another slap, almost wanted it. Whatever it took for it to be over.
“I know.” Instead, at my words, he lowered his fist, brought it back to the steering wheel, and refocused on the road. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
How he managed to surprise me only showed how broken I was. Or maybe it showed that the old Neal was still there. Probably both. He was always full of apologies. Why did I expect anything different this time?
Tears streamed down his cheeks as his knuckles grew white from his grip on the steering wheel. “I am, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about the other night. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just… saw you with that… fucker… and I lost my mind.” He darted a look my way, and even in the darkness, sincerity was clear over his agonized face. “I’m so sorry about tonight. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to hurt you. I love you.”
I only stared at him. In numb horror. This was the man I’d given my life to for five years. This was the man who’d probably killed the only man I’d ever truly loved. The next thought only made me feel pathetic, not sad or even angry. This was going to be the man who killed me. That was how this would end. With another couple bashes of my head, it would come fairly quick.
In what seemed like considerable effort, Neal ripped his hand from the steering wheel and grabbed mine.
I didn’t even flinch.
“I’m sorry, baby. I am.” Again his gaze found mine in the dark. Though his fingers gripped so tightly the bones in my hand screamed, his thumb tenderly caressed my skin. “I love you. And now that we’re together again, we’ll figure it out. And I won’t hold it against you, all your whoring around. I really won’t. It just makes us even. So… we’ll start fresh. A clean slate. I’ve hurt you; you’ve hurt me.” He did a cursory glance out the windshield, and then his fiery gaze was back on me. “I forgive you, Jasper. Completely. Will you forgive me?”
I felt the laugh build in me again, but it didn’t come. Nothing sounded.
He squeezed my hand tighter, the caress of his thumb growing frantic. “Please, baby. Forgive me.”
“Fuck you.” I didn’t know the words were going to come, but there they were. A quiet whisper, and one of the truest things I’d ever said. In the years since Neal, though I’d dreaded him getting out of jail, I’d focused on forgiveness, lett
ing the past be in the past, on doing my best to simply look at it as a journey. After all, I wouldn’t be the Jasper I was if not for those years. That was something to be grateful for. I was stronger than before. Stronger than I would’ve been without those years.
Well, that part was true, wasn’t it?
I was stronger. At least strong enough. “Fuck. You.”
The caress on my hand stopped, only the crushing grip remained. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His whisper was as quiet as mine.
All those years tumbled through my mind and then were steamrolled by what amounted to a blink of an eye with Russell. Maybe I had grown stronger because of Neal. But I knew love because of Russell. And that man lay hurt, dying, or dead because of the monster in front of me.
“Fuck you!” The scream ripped from me with such force it felt like it tore at my throat. I launched myself across the cab of the Subaru, one foot pushing off the floorboard, the other off the passenger door. There was no thought, no plan, nothing but pure fury.
I crashed into him so hard that his head bashed into the driver’s side window with such force spider veins splintered across the tinted glass from the impact.
Neal bellowed in pain and fury and managed to punch me with both fists in the chest, sending me crashing once more against the passenger side door. Unable to catch my balance, I fell into the footwell.
Neal didn’t give up, and still screaming like an animal, he tried to grab my legs. He snagged my ankle and yanked me toward him as the car swerved. He managed to correct it with his left hand, and then he leaned down to get a better grip with his right on my leg.
I kicked—pulled my leg back and kicked him with my heel as hard as I could in the nose.
He screamed.
Blood gushed, and I felt cartilage break under the force.
In his panic or pain, he must’ve slammed his foot on the gas as the engine roared and the car shot forward.
I tried to push myself out of the footwell of the car but slipped and crashed back down.
The impact came with a deafening crunch, forcing me deeper under the dash.
Neal shot forward, as if something had reached in through the windshield and grabbed him by the neck, and he was gone.
A second impact crushed in the driver’s side door, and the world spun, one darkened blur after darkened blur. With the third impact, the blur faded and only darkness remained.
Twenty-Four
Russell
The darkness was so complete I wasn’t certain my eyes were open. But they stung. My eyes stung, and my head screamed.
I was on the ground, in the dark, and my eyes and head hurt. So much more than hurt.
The pain in my head brought me back to the moment.
Neal. He’d been right behind me, then in front of me, and then… something… a two-by-four… a brick… a pipe….
It didn’t matter.
But it was so black.
The image of Neal swinging something toward my head flashed into the darkness again.
Jasper...
Shit! Jasper!
I started to sit up, but something stopped me just in time before I bashed my head again. Reaching up, I felt a coiled and metallic ceiling right above me. No. Not a ceiling. Light began to creep in then, but not from above, just a soft indirect light all around me, and the puzzle pieces fell together, though it still took another heartbeat to make sense. I was under my truck. Lying in the parking lot under my truck.
Neal must’ve dragged me over. Smart. I had to give him that. He’d had the forethought to hide me. Though if he’d been thinking that clearly, I was shocked I was still alive.
I managed to slide out from under the truck and used the bumper to stand.
The world spun, and my head screamed. But the panic in my chest, in my heart, screamed louder.
The parking lot was empty. The back door to the bookshop was shut.
Maybe I’d only been out a minute or so.
Neal would be inside with Jasper. At that very minute, Neal was with Jasper.
The thought had me rushing toward the bookshop. More zombielike lurching than actual running, if my constant stumbling was any indication, but I had to get inside. Before Neal had time to—
I couldn’t let myself consider the possibilities. There were only a couple of things I figured Neal had in mind to do with Jasper, and they were too horrible to consider. I just needed to get in there and stop it, whatever he was doing.
Flinging open the door, I scurried up the stairs like an animal, using my hands on the steps to propel myself upward, the railing would’ve only slowed me down.
I burst into the apartment, expecting to see Neal and Jasper locked in some sort of battle in the living room. There was nothing. No sign of a struggle, not even a chair overturned. And then the silence reached me, turning my fear to ice. Not wanting to look, I nearly threw myself into the bedroom, but it too was empty. Not even the bedspread was disturbed.
The bathroom light was on, and I glanced in, but it was empty as well. Just as I started to turn away, I noticed Jasper’s glasses by the sink. More ice, and a growing terror that threatened to freeze me in place.
I shoved it aside and left the bedroom, casting an obligatory glance into the room I’d been staying in. It was empty of course. The rush down the steps was a little more precarious than the crawl up them. The pain had receded, washed over by panic and adrenaline, but the world still spun and threatened to send me sprawling. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, another sight stopped me cold. A towel was wadded up behind the door I’d flung open.
The picture clarified instantly. The towel. The glasses by the sink. Jasper had been showering, getting ready for me.
I hurried back out into the night, searching for Neal’s car. Ridiculous, like they’d just be hanging out in the parking lot, but still I looked, trying to make sense of it. Trying to figure out how long I’d been out. How long Jasper had been with Neal.
I was halfway to my truck, digging my keys out of my pocket, when the police cruiser drove by again, once more pausing as the officer noticed me. I wheeled on the spot and hurried toward her.
Officer Needle started to get out of the cruiser, but I waved her back as I made it to the car and hurried around the hood to the passenger door. “He has Jasper. Neal has Jasper.”
“What?” She balked as I threw myself into the passenger seat.
“Neal has Jasper.” I smacked the dash. “Go. Drive, goddammit.” My yelling only caused me to wince in pain.
“Russell, that can’t be. I just drove by fifteen minutes ago, you were in the parking lot, just like you were this time. I don’t know what’s….” Her words trailed off as her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. “You’re bleeding. Badly.”
I lifted my hand to the side of my head, to where the pain radiated, then inspected my fingers. Sure enough they were covered in blood. Maybe that was the other reason my eyes were stinging. “Who gives a fuck? That’s what I’m telling you—he has Jasper. He knocked me out and has Jasper. I already checked the apartment. It’s empty. Drive.” I smacked the dash, this time my fingers leaving a bloody streak. “Fucking drive.”
Officer Needle only hesitated for another second, then seemed to click into action. She stomped on the gas, and the tires squealed as she made a hard right from Lighthouse Road onto Ocean Way, then slammed the gas again. “All right. There’s only one way they would go. Unless he’s a complete idiot, everywhere else winds around through town, goes to the beach, or gets lost in the national park.”
“Good call.” Yes. Neal would leave town. The second he had Jasper, I had no doubt. Although… that was assuming he was kidnapping Jasper, taking him away. God, I hoped that’s what it was. That gave us time. But if he was just angry, caught in some rage…. “Keep going this way, but have some of the other officers spread out, just in case Neal took him into the forest or something. We don’t know what he’s planning.”
She didn’t argue or offer commentary, si
mply contacted dispatch and did an admirable job of being succinct and expedient. Chatter instantly filled the police cruiser, as dispatch contacted other officers, hummed with alerts raised and orders given.
In what seemed like a blink of an eye, we were outside the town limits of Lavender Shores, trees whirling by. I had to believe Neal had delusions of keeping Jasper. That he had some notion of them starting a life together again. As long as that was true, we had time. Jasper had time. I couldn’t allow any other option to be a real possibility. My eyes focused out the windshield. “You’re sure that you only made one round? No more than fifteen minutes passed?”
“I’m sure.” She didn’t even bother to look my way, her gaze trained on the road. “I’m betting he only has a five-minute head start, at the most. Maybe ten. But if he attacked you in the parking lot and then got Jasper, that would’ve taken a few minutes to get him from the apartment into his car” She scowled. “Or whatever he’s driving. He didn’t have the same car. I would’ve noticed.”
I was certain she was right. At least about the sedan. I hoped he only had a five-minute head start.
Ahead on the right, Adrian’s farm was coming into view. I almost suggested slowing down, seeing if we noticed any disturbance. Neal could’ve turned off there, if for some reason he wasn’t intent on keeping Jasper. Or if his anger got the better of him.
I couldn’t think that. I had to have faith that wasn’t Jasper’s story.
We had to keep going forward. Anything else would use up what little advantage of time we had.
Then the farm was behind us. I prayed I was making the right call.
There was just forest again. Dark seemingly endless forests on either side of the road.
They could be anywhere. Literally anywhere. Jasper was with that psycho alone. Alone, in the dark, and so much weaker than his ’roided-out ex. And if our suspicions were right, if Neal had spent the times between harassing Jasper reverting back to his drug-fueled haze, who knew what the man could be on, what delusions he was having, and what additional level of insane strength he might possess.
The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7) Page 26