“Jet’s got him now,” Reed said.
Jet twisted his hips and Aristov’s body twisted along with him. At the same time Jet turned Aristov’s neck in the opposite direction of his torso and pulled up. The neck crank and the spinal lock moves had Aristov screaming in pain as Jet kept twisting the man’s body in opposite directions, the strain could actually cause paralysis. I waited to hear the snapping of either Aristov’s spine or his neck, but it didn’t come.
Aristov fought and was able to pull an arm out. It was enough for him to elbow and swing until Jet lost his hold on the man’s middle. Once Jet’s legs were loose, Aristov rolled taking Jet with him. When Jet’s arm dropped from Aristov’s, and he was freed, he pushed up to his feet. How the man was able to move after the abuse Jet had just given to his body was unreal. Jet pushed himself up and stumbled as he rose. He wiped at his eye where blood still dripped. His lip was cut and swollen. He leaned to the right as if in pain, which he probably was with all the discoloration to his skin.
Aristov moved toward Jet, his chest heaving, his eyes bloodshot. Blood from his cheek and nose still running down his face. Jet had brutalized the man, and he still stood, the crazed look in his eyes telling of his intention.
Jet, my brother and friend, leaned against the ropes clutching his right side, his face contorted in pain. His eyes watching as Aristov moved closer.
Time slowed for me as I watched the end of the fight nearing. Jet closed his eyes as if he didn’t want to witness what Aristov would do when he reached him.
“No!” was yelled by Petal as I saw Mel move in my peripheral vision to get closer to the screen.
I felt my dad’s hand as he grabbed my shoulder and squeezed just as Aristov started to turn. I watched his leg lift as his body made it back around to face Jet. The kick was in line to hit the right side of Jet’s head, this time with no protection as Jet’s hands cradled his sides.
Mel began to talk barely above a whisper, “Now, do it now. Come on, Jet.” Falon moved behind Mel and wrapped his arms around her.
Aristov’s foot was inches away from the blow that would most likely knock Jet out.
Jet bent forward and Aristov’s foot and leg when over his body. When Aristov’s move did land, the momentum built, leaving Aristov’s body sideways as he stopped and dropped his leg down.
“You’ve got the fucker now, Jet. Take him down,” Bry yelled.
I didn’t say a word as I watched Jet stand back up, pain showing on his face as he lifted his arm, clenched his fingers into his palm with his thumb resting on the side of them. I said nothing as I watched Aristov move toward Jet again. Then I watched Jet, in one fluid movement, throw his hand out and hit Aristov’s chest with the palm. The blow was just above Aristov’s heart.
Aristov stumbled back as Jet collapsed onto the mat and never moved. Aristov gained his balance and headed for the unmoving body of Jet. When he reached him, Aristov lifted his leg over Jet’s chest, preparing to stomp down. Before Aristov could do it, he reached up and clasped his chest with his hand. His body fell forward, leaving his legs the only part that laid over Jet. Neither man moving.
“What the fuck just went down? Is he breathing? Can you zoom that fucking camera in, Mace?” I asked.
Mace didn’t answer, but the picture changed, and I could see Jet’s chest. I let out a breath when I saw the slight rise and fall of it.
“Holy shit, and thank fuck, he is alive,” Tony said, and I was sure I would’ve agreed if the movement on the screen hadn’t drawn my attention.
Harm went through the ropes to Jet as the other man moved to Aristov. They each pulled the bodies to the edge of the ring. Harm had Jet up and over his shoulder and was heading for the door when it swung open. One of the men, the one who we presumed drove Harm and Jet to the fight, was entering and was caught off guard as Harm passed by him and exited the room.
“Vehicles coming down the street. Briggs was watching the feed we sent him and saw Jet go down. He’s moving in. He’s going to intercept Harm and Jet and head to the hospital,” Mace said.
Right before the video shut off, the man who entered the room pulled a gun as the manager for Aristov moved toward him, pulled the trigger and the bullet dropped the man when it entered his forehead. The man turned and fired, hitting Aristov in the chest as his body laid on the edge of the ring where the manager had pulled it.
I moved to the table and reached for Jet’s keys. I didn’t give a shit about watching the FBI and DEA move in on the warehouse. I wanted to be at the hospital when Briggs and Harm brought Jet in.
“Wait up, Sean. You can ride with us,” Bry said as he, Petal, my dad, and Reed walked toward me. I dropped the keys back on the table but grabbed Jet’s phone. Brit hadn’t answered my text from early, and I needed to reach her. I only hoped Jet had the Yankee’s security people’s number in his contacts.
As Bry, Petal, my dad, Reed, and I walked out of the meeting room, the others weren’t far behind. By the time we reached where Bry had his car parked, my dad had called the house and the rest of the family would be on their way to the hospital, too.
Jet was breathing when Harm carried him out, that was what I planned to focus on.
Chapter Nineteen
Brit
I quickly walked down the hallway to the offices. The taxi had dropped me off just like Jet and Sean wanted. The shoot ran long, and I watched the time and wondered if the fight was underway. I hated not knowing what was happening with Jet and Sean. I realized how in a short time they’d become important to me. It only took standing there watching the people wander around, and the several couples who were close, holding hands. They looked in love.
Shit, I loved both of those idiots, and the second I acknowledged it, I wanted to tell them. If something happened to either of them before I got a chance to tell them, I would be devastated. Fuck, I was turning into a pansy ass, whiny woman, something I always said I would never become.
I heard the murmur of men talking, but they weren’t smooth and calm like I was used to hearing from the office. No, I heard a hint of urgency in Franco’s and Jamison’s voices.
I entered the office just as Franco snapped, “Keep us updated as soon as you find out his condition. Yeah, Fin filled us in before he flew out of here with the others. He did what he had to, Xavier; Jet will handle killing the man. He was left with no choice.”
My shoulder bag slid off and hit the floor. Killed? Jet killed someone? What the fuck? That had not been in the plan, “What on earth?” I said, and both men turned and grimaced. Jamison walked toward me.
“We had a situation when the fight started. There was a last minute change. It was a death match.”
“A death match?” I shrieked, and Jamison nodded slowly.
“Yes, Jet was hurt and is on his way to the hospital,” Jamison said as Franco hung up with Xavier.
“Oh my God,” I whispered and stared at the men.
“Mace informed before they all ran out of here. The DEA and FBI were called in when the match was announced. By the time the agents activated and were en route, the fight had started. When they arrived at the warehouse, the fight was over. Agent Briggs was close and intercepted Harm and Jet to get him to the hospital. One of the men who was left in the warehouse shot the manager in the head and fired a shot into the body of the Russian fighter who had grabbed his chest after Jet had landed a blow. All that happened after Harm and carried Jet out. Mace had watched the agents enter the building as Briggs was helping Harm place Jet in the back of his vehicle. No one knows what the agents found in the warehouse. Everyone was more focused on getting to the hospital,” Franco said.
I didn’t say a word. Everything Franco said was processing in my brain, but the only thing front and center was Jet killed someone because they forced him into a death match. Jet, my Jet, a death match.
“I don’t have a car!” I yelled, then frantically looked around the room. I spotted a set of keys on the table and recognized them as Jet’s. Grabbing
them up, I turned and ran out of the room.
Jamison yelled, “Wait!’
Not stopping to answer, I said over my shoulder, “I already know where he is. There is only one hospital they would have taken him to.” By the time I made it to the parking lot, I felt like hours had passed. As I jumped into the cab of the shiny truck, I frowned. Jet had some long fucking legs, I grumbled, and then pulled my phone out of my pocket. Shit, I had turned it off that morning after I talked with Chad about the photo op. The screen lit up after I pushed the on button and the phone chimed indicating a text. My breath caught when I saw Sean’s name.
“Please, please, don’t be bad news,” I said out loud and tapped the screen. I read the message and released the breath I held. Only checking on me, that was good. After I closed the messages, I hit the Bluetooth, threw the truck in reverse, and squealed the tires as I pressed hard on the gas.
“Siri, call Sean,” I said loudly, and then drove out of the parking lot like a mad woman. Thank goodness there was little to no traffic right now, or I would have played bumper cars to get where I needed to be.
The phone went to voicemail, “Sean, baby, I just heard about Jet. What is going on? I’m on my way, call me when you get this. I need to know Jet is okay.” I paused for a second, and then whispered, “Love you,” and hung up before I changed my mind. Then I tried everyone, and I mean everyone I could think of, and no one answered. The traffic began to pick up the closer I got to the downtown area. I called Sean again, and once again the phone went to voicemail.
“Sean? Baby, I’m trying to remain calm here, but no one is answering their phones. I’m calling the ER now. Please answer!” I said, and then hung up.
“Siri, call Bronx Medical Center ER,” I said, and then listened as it dialed.
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, MOVE YOUR ASS!” I yelled at the car in front of me. I assumed the driver was over ninety and should not have a license right now anyway. I tried to move around the car, but another car was on my left side, and then my right. I was boxed in. I hit the steering wheel.
“DRIVE THE DAMN SPEED LIMIT! CAN YOU FUCKING READ? IT SAYS SLOWER VEHICLES TO THE RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT!”
Fuck this shit, I thought, and then pulled into a turn lane no one was in and floored it. I shot around the car that was slowing me down and pulled back into the correct lane and focused.
“THAT’S RIGHT SUCKAS YOU CAN’T HOLD ME BACK, MY MAN NEEDS ME!”
“Uh...Bronx ER?” A woman said, and I closed my eyes. Fuck.
“Yeah, sorry, uh...I’m calling to inquire about my boyfriend who was brought in. His name is Jackson Tolsen,” I said softer than previously.
“I’m sorry, due to confidentiality we are unable to confirm or deny a patient unless you have his code. Do you have his code?” the woman asked.
I frowned. “His code? I have no idea what that is, but if you could page Sean O’Malley, he would be able to verify who I am.”
“I’m sorry, we do not page people in the hospital,” the woman said.
“But, he was just brought into the ER. I mean, I don’t even know if he was checked in yet. Can you transfer me to the ER?” I begged.
“I am sorry, even if I transfer you, ma'am, they will not tell you anything without a code,” the woman said, and I growled.
“You are not listening to me. There is no way he has a code yet. What is wrong with you? I’m speaking English, dammit, not a foreign language. Jackson Tolsen was injured and brought to the ER. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HIS STATUS IS? Is that so fucking hard?” I snapped.
“There is no need to get nasty, ma’am. I am trying to help. Now, I understand. Perhaps if you come to the hospital, you will be able to find the patient.”
“I’m on my way now, but I need to know how bad he is. Please, I swear I am normally a nice person, but we are talking about one of the loves of my life here,” I said, and thought maybe she was transferring me when the line went quiet.
“We don’t think kindly of people calling in to prank the hospital. There are legitimate people concerned for their loved ones,” the woman said snottily.
“I am one of those concerned family members. If you would connect me or page Sean O’Malley you would find that out,” I snapped.
“Please, I’m not falling for whatever you're saying. One of the loves of your life. Tell me, do the two know of each other?” The woman chuckled. “Have to say, you’ve made my day. Now, I have to go.”
“Wait! I’m telling the truth. Have you never heard of a ménage? You should try one, maybe it would relax you and you would do your job better.”
“Ma’am, for the last time, I can’t tell you anything without a code. It is against HIPPA to give out information on a patient without their consent,” the woman huffed.
I screamed in frustration and hung up the phone. “OH MY FUCKING GOD! JET IS GONNA DIE CAUSE THE HOSPITAL IS FULL OF IDIOTS! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND ANYTHING OUT!”
I pressed on the gas harder, and that was when it happened. I saw the police car pull out with his lights flashing as I passed. Fuck a duck. I didn’t need this. For a fraction of a minute I was going to floor it and keep going, but then I figured they would call in the cavalry, and I would be in bigger trouble. I slowed and pulled the truck over to the side, and then reached for my purse. Shit, shit, shit, it was at the gym. I groaned and leaned my head back and looked at the ceiling of the truck. Why me? This night fucking sucked!
With a sigh, I leaned over and got the registration and insurance out of the glove box and waited. The policeman was young. I watched in the driver’s side mirror as he walked up with his hand on the butt of his gun. Great, he thought I was dangerous. I smiled, and then looked in the rearview mirror. I looked good since I had been at work, hopefully, I could conjure up a tear or two and get back on my way.
I rolled down the driver’s window and smiled at the young officer. “Hey,” I stated.
“License, registration, and insurance,” he said firmly.
I smiled and flipped my hair a little, and then said, “I am sorry, officer, is something wrong?” I leaned over to give him a boob shot just enough to show him some skin, and then winked at him. This had to work.
“License, registration, and insurance,” he said.
I grimaced, and then said, “Listen, I have the registration and the insurance, it’s my boyfriend’s truck and he is hurt, and my other boyfriend is at the hospital with him. I was totally freaked and ran out without my purse, which has my wallet with my driver's license. But honestly, all you need to do is call O’Malley’s gym, and they will tell you I am who I say I am.”
“License, registration and insurance, ma’am,” he repeated, and I thought, great, I got the only deaf police officer who was a eunuch on the NYPD. My boobs were perky and hot. I should have let go for that reason alone, prick.
I handed him the registration and insurance and repeated what I had just said but slower and stared at him so he could read my lips. The officer shook his head.
“Step out of the vehicle,” he snapped. “You were exceeding the speed limit by more than twenty miles per hour, and recklessly swerving in and out of traffic. You don’t have a license, and this is not your car? I’m gonna need you to come back to my vehicle while I sort this out.”
I frowned. “Why? I mean I know I don’t have my license, but my name is Brit Williams, I own Williams Sports Agency. Hey, I represent Chad Macon, you can call him. I know I was going a little fast, but my boyfriend is in the hospital, and I need to get there,” I said sweetly and sniffed a little and teared up. He was shaking his head and motioning for me to get out of the car. He wasn’t buying this, dammit. I gave my best sad pout, and he rolled his eyes, seriously, he rolled his eyes. I gave him a sexy smile, a sweet smile—an excellent fucking boob shot, and nothing. He wasn’t normal. What the hell was up with him?
“I’m not getting out of the car, so you can call the gym and have them tell you who I am, then give me a ticket and send me on my way. Just
gimme the ticket, and I will pay it, but I need to leave,” I said grumpily.
“Ma’am, take the keys out of the ignition and step out of the car.”
“No, I need to leave. I need to get to the hospital and find out what is going on! What if he is dying?” I cried and crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. Yeah, I didn’t have a hard time tearing up, what if something bad was happening right now, and I was sitting on the side of the fucking road.
“I am not going to say this again, ma’am. Take the keys out of the ignition and step out of the vehicle.”
“Well, you did just repeat yourself, dumbass, and I will repeat myself, too. NO!” I snarled and leaned sideways out the window. “Now write me the fucking ticket, and I will be on my way.”
The officer grabbed the door handle, and I slammed the locking mechanism down, and then stuck my tongue out at him. Asshole, I thought and put the car in drive, and the officer yelled loudly. I shrugged and went to push on the gas when another police car squealed to a stop right in front of me preventing me from leaving. Well shit.
I sighed and groaned, then unlocked the door. The officer pulled it open and pointed a gun at me and said, “Ms. Williams, get out of the car!”
My eyes widened, and I snapped “Are you fucking crazy? Put that thing away. Oh my god, I’m not dangerous, I need to get to the hospital. You don’t understand, he needs me. I need to tell him I love him, now! This is serious, I mean, what would you do if your girlfriend or wife was in the hospital.”
The policeman snorted and looked at me. “Yeah, using one boyfriend's truck to get to your other boyfriend. I am pretty sure the owner of the vehicle is gonna press charges.”
“FOR WHAT?” I screamed.
“Theft!” he said, and he moved enough so the second officer could pull me out of the car and put my hands behind my back and cuff me.
“Are you kidding me right now? I mean, seriously, call O’Malley’s gym. I did not steal this truck, Jet Tolsen is my boyfriend, and he would never press charges for this, dammit, listen to me,” I yelled, and the officer snickered. I looked at his name tag and said. “Cooper? Officer Cooper, you are in so much trouble right now. I’m serious, I know people, important people. And what is your name?” I said over my shoulder, and the officer shook his head. “Tepper? Yeah, you are fucked as well. Do you know Detective Ranger Marshall? He is a close, personal friend. I’m telling you right now. You. Are. Fucked!”
Dazzled and Dazed Page 21