by Ivy Harper
When the nights get too fucking long and the demons in my head get too loud, I would either shoot up or hold the piece of metal I got from Deacon in my hand. Sitting on the edge of my tub, listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t pull the trigger.
Deacon had asked me why the fuck I needed a gun. I gave him some half-ass excuse about an angry drug dealer I’d stiffed. Thankfully, that was the end of that.
“Come back inside. The champagne’s not much but it’ll take the edge off,” Luke said.
“Nah, I’m going to cut out early. Time to find me a piece of ass to wipe away this nightmare of marital bliss.” I moved to walk past him.
“You’re going to miss the best part—the sappy retelling of how they met.”
“I was there for it.” I brush off his words with ease. “Tell them my stomach hurts,” I added sarcastically, pushing the doors open.
I gave a nod to Deacon and my other brothers, who all looked the opposite of how I felt. Ignoring the obvious come-hither stares from my usual fare, I moved for the exit. Right as I reached the door, Pit called out, “I have an announcement.”
I turned away from the door, curious.
“As a wedding gift, I purchased a lot to build a new house for half pint. We break ground in two weeks,” he continued as he looked down at Skittles on the makeshift dance floor. “She has me moving back to Bridge Lake.”
And I thought the Bugatti was an outrageous engagement gift. Once I heard what Pit had to say, I felt worse than I had before. I walked out of the party room and into the hallway, my aim the elevator across the way.
Pit was moving home. Something I thought none of us would do. I ignored the sensation of a headache building behind my eyes. My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Entering the elevator, I answered it. “Speak.”
“Is that how you’re answering the phone now?”
The annoyed sounding voice belonged to my manager, a hard-tit bitch who ran me and my other band members. “Chelsea, have you finally given up women and want to explore my dick?”
“If I wanted to be disappointed, I’d go watch Avatar again.”
Leaning my head back, I released a short chuckle. I liked a woman with sass. “You’d be surprised, so… why the hell are you calling me on my very, very rare vacation?”
“Because Danny… you remember him? Kole’s personal assistant.”
I groaned, thinking of that wimpy waste of space.
“Yes, I know the leach,” I growled.
“Well, the company you declined to do that commercial for has returned with a better offer and he called me about it.”
“The one I already said no to?”
“Yes,” she grudgingly admitted. “At first, I wasn’t going to bring it to you, but I really think this deal is too good to pass up.”
“I don’t repeat myself often, but for you I’ll do it this one time. I will not work with them. I will never work with them. Hell, I will do a commercial for adult diapers before I ever work with them.”
“Tak, this is a lot of money you’re saying no to.”
A loud ding of the elevator alerted me I’d arrived at the garage floor. The doors opened and I stepped out into the hotel’s garage.
“Ah. I get it now. Kole’s pushing this.” I took out my key fob from my back pocket with my free hand.
“Well, the label would get a percentage of the money if you take this deal,” Chelsea said. “He’s not the type to lose out on a chance to make some money.”
“The answer is no,” I said. “Now, go do what I pay you so much for… disappointing Kole.”
“Wait, Tak.”
I hung up and shoved my phone into my back pocket. I paid her to handle the annoying shit. Like Kole’s constant desire to make money for me, stemming from his weird desire to pay me back for helping build JS records with him.
Reaching the back of the garage, where I’d parked my Ferrari, I pressed the button to unlock the doors. I stopped in disbelief.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The person who’d caused my brain to short-wire, stood on the driver’s side of my car with my door wide open, a slim piece of metal at their feet. I couldn’t see their face because of the black face mask they wore. Their eyes met mine, wide and filled with what seemed to be disbelief. The two of us stood in tense silence, not moving.
“I said, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I shouted when I snapped out of it.
Raising my voice seemed to be the perfect thing to trigger the fucking car thief because with no word and a lot of speed, the fucker took off.
“Wait,” I yelled after him.
If he thought he’d out leg me, he had another thing coming, but the bastard was quick. He dodged behind a car, so that I had to run around it. Then he slid across the top of a lifted Ford truck.
“Dammit.” It was like I was chasing a squirrel. The overhead lamps and the enclosed parking garage walls were the only reason I didn’t lose him.
At some point, it occurred to me I could stop the chase and call the cops, but I felt more excited than I had in days. I loved the feeling of adrenaline pumping through my veins. I nearly grabbed the back of his coat, but the fucker performed some wushu martial arts and legit spun out of my hold.
The sound of our shoes hitting against asphalt became its own melody in my head. Usually when that started, I would lose myself to it. Dragged down to the bottom to add words and chords, but I ignored it, the music turning into silence behind me.
I chased the fucker out onto the street. Moving through the Vegas crowd was the only thing slowing us as we drew closer and closer to the heavy traffic in the street. He paused at the end of the sidewalk.
“Might as well turn around and take this can of whoop-ass like a man,” I panted, feeling the sweat coating my back. I would beat his ass. The crowd around us would probably record it, but at that point who gave a shit. “Come, I’ll only break your hand.”
The thief took off. The sound of car horns filled the air, followed by the sharp sound of squealing tires. I couldn’t believe it. He’d seriously ran across the street through speeding traffic. The rush I felt was indescribable.
I watched his back. I was invested in whether or not he’d make it to the other side. Would he? Wasn’t he afraid of dying?
Was I afraid of dying?
The questions tumbled down like puzzle pieces, before they clicked, and I took off. The rush of not knowing if the drivers would stop or whether I’d be too slow was everything. Maybe I wouldn’t beat the thief too bad.
He’d given me something I’d been lacking as of late. The feeling of being alive, the challenge of overcoming my fear. Right as I reached the other side, I stopped at the sidewalk.
The thief’s eyes widened as if in amazement. I couldn’t help smirking. “So… what’s next?” I asked to taunt him.
He didn’t react right away, but when he did, it caused my smirk to drop. He took off toward an alley. I followed close behind. I couldn’t lie, I was eager to see what he’d pull this time.
He turned a corner and jumped like a spider monkey. I came to an abrupt stop as he leapt up and grabbed the lowest bar. He swung himself across to a second bar above, pulled himself up, and landed with a solid thump onto the fire escape.
My mouth dropped. “Son of a bitch.”
He stood and turned, looking down at me. There was no way my ass could do such gymnastic shit. Shit, I didn’t know if I was pissed because this chase was over or because the adrenaline pumping through my body would fade.
“Fuck it,” I said about to turn away and leave.
I was so occupied staring up at him, I didn’t hear the sound of someone coming up from behind me. My only clue was the explosion of pain in my skull when something landed against my head and my vision went black.
Jazzy
* * *
I crouched down low on the fire escape, moving into the shadows, hoping I hadn’t been seen. Luck was on my side as I wor
e all black and the alleyway was darker and more secluded than the main street.
Holding my breath, I leaned forward a bit to get a better view of the two men who’d seemingly come out of nowhere. The one who’d knocked my pursuer out was tall and grim faced with a notably bent nose. He tossed the baton he’d used to his partner.
Who caught it and gleefully said, “Shit, I didn’t think he’d come running to us. I’ll text Mitchell and let him know we caught him, Bradley.” He pulled out his phone. The bright light coming off it gave me a clear view of his face and the red scar on his chin.
“Yeah, tell him to meet us in garage one of the Spires hotel. I’ve already paid off someone to keep the way clear for us, so we can use it and get up to the room,” Bradley said. He squatted down and lifted up the unconscious guy by the arms, dragging him back toward a black van inconspicuously parked at the entrance of the alleyway.
Finished with texting, his partner followed him to the back door of the van.
“Shit, he’s heavy,” Bradley exclaimed.
“Wonder where the guy he was chasing went?”
“Beats me, help me get his ass in the back.” He turned sideways so the feet of the person he was holding faced the other guy. “Here, help me get him inside, Tony.”
Opening the doors, Tony tossed the baton in and turned around to help him. “Here, on one.”
Once they finished shoving the body in the back of the van, they slammed the doors shut, quickly walked around to the front and got in and took off. Slowly rising, I stared after them. Jumping down from the fire escape, I landed lightly before standing and walking over to where Tak had been.
Spotting a wallet, I bent and scooped it up. Opening it, I pulled out the ID. Reading the name, I felt my stomach clench. “Takuya Nakamura.” Instantly a pair of attractive brown eyes and a sarcastic smile came to mind. “You’re shitting me,” I muttered aloud.
It was Tak. I wasn’t imagining things. The chances of me trying to steal the car of one of my old high school classmates had to be one in a million. The chances I’d try to steal my favorite singer’s car tripled those odds.
Replacing the ID in the wallet, I then shoved it into my back pocket and pulled my cell phone out. I quickly dialed and I pulled my mask off. After a minute my call was sent to voicemail. Rolling my eyes, I dialed another number.
The sound of a sleepy feminine voice pulled my attention from my rapid musings. “Hello?” my cousin answered.
“Trisha, is Dutch awake?”
“He should be, let me go check,” she said, the sluggish quality to her voice fading. The sound of something shifting was followed by the noisy click-clack of what I assumed to be her slippers.
“What do you need him for?” she asked, just as the sound of a door opening and a series of moans and groans filled my ear. I pulled the phone back staring at it in both shock and amusement. Soon there was a loud masculine shout, cutting the pleasured noises off abruptly.
“Trisha, what have I told you about just walking into my apartment?” Dutch asked angrily.
“The same thing you say all the time, but the only way I’ll stop doing it is if you move out. Don’t glare at me just because you can only get off to cartoons.”
“Stop before he kicks you out,” I said.
Out of the five of us cousins who lived together in a five-apartment brownstone, Trisha and Dutch were like oil and water. Especially when no one was home to get between them. I wouldn’t have called Trisha if Dutch didn’t have the habit of not answering his phone.
“Fine,” Trisha said. “Dutch, Jazz is on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”
There was some shuffling and cursing, before Dutch finally answered. “You’re the reason this virus broke into my apartment?”
I laughed as I quickly walked to the end of the street, making sure no cars were coming. I crossed it. “It’s for a good reason, I’m going to text you a hotel and a name, I need you to see if you can find them for me. It would be a bonus if you could tap into any cameras around them.”
There was a moment of silence, swiftly followed by, “I want you to take this virus out of the brownstone for two days.”
“Deal,” I said as I quickly texted him the name and hotel.
After a few seconds, Dutch said, “Got it.”
The steady typing of keys tempered the small bit of anxiety eating at my stomach. I bit back my need to tell Dutch to hurry up.
I reached the corner and started to think over what I would do next. Dutch cursed and a sound of scuffling filled my ear. Trisha having successfully taken the phone from him, loudly asked, “Why do you have Dutch looking up Tak?”
If I told my cousin why, I knew exactly what she’d say. I debated it for a second before I finally said, “I might have seen him get kidnapped.”
“Oh God, not again. Listen Jazz, you don’t have to make up a fake reason to see him. I know you love him, but you can’t recklessly invade his hotel room. You need to control your fangirl tendencies.”
Irritated, I snapped. “What exactly do you think of me? I’m not lying, he was kidnapped.”
I must’ve been on speaker phone because Dutch added his two sense. “She’s not, he’s getting carried into a private elevator as we speak.”
Hearing this, I threw caution to the wind and rushed to the hotel I’d been approaching.
“Is he a guest there?”
“I found his reservations.”
“Can you tell me what floor his room is on?” I asked.
“It’s 1103. They’ve just exited the elevator.”
As I entered the hotel, I walked toward the counter. Arriving there, I was met with the disdainful gaze of the hotel staff behind the desk. She gave me and my attire a long look. “Ma’am if you’re looking for one-night stays, there is a Best Value hotel down the street.”
I’d met plenty of people like this, who easily judged someone based on their appearance. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to deal with it. I reached into my hoodie pocket and pulled out my wallet and placed a black card on the counter. “I want a room, on the eleventh floor, the number should be between 1104 to 1106.”
Her eyes dropped to the card and I watched as she blanched. Only the extremely wealthy carried this card around with them. The only reason I kept it on me was because it made it easier to book rooms when traveling. It took out all the fuss of identifications and reservations.
I enjoyed her expression immensely, but instead of savoring it, I brushed off her sudden switch in behavior and grabbed my key. Racing for the elevator, I got on and headed to the top floor.
“Dutch, what are they doing now?” I asked, returning my focus to my call.
“I can’t see into the room,” he said, aggravation clear in his voice. Another round of tapping filled my ear. “Shit, the camera across from the room is busted.”
“Okay, don’t worry about it. I’m almost there anyway. Bye.” I shoved my phone into my front pocket.
It didn’t take me long to reach the floor Tak was staying on. I exited the elevator and headed in the direction of room 1103. Just as I turned the corner, I immediately staggered back as the door to his room opened and two men stepped out, their expressions grim.
I recognized one of them as Tony. The one who’d knocked Tak out in the alleyway, but the other one was new to me. His features were plain and almost boring.
“How long do you think it will take?” Tony asked, keeping his voice low, but I was able to pick it up since I was so close.
“Shit if I know but bleeding out might take longer for such a big dude. It won’t matter.” The two made their way toward me. “Let’s take this exit, it leads out the back.”
I stiffened and turned around to run for the exit. Pulling my phone out, I proceeded to call Dutch as I pushed the exit door open and started running down the steps.
“Again?” he complained.
“Call 911 and I don’t care what you have to say just get them to that room,” I ordered.
“Just do it,” I said as I exited onto the tenth floor and ran to the other side where I quickly reentered a stairwell and ran back up to Tak’s floor. Reaching the eleventh floor, I walked toward 1103 and banged on the door.
“Takuya,” I yelled, but no one answered.
“Hurry, Dutch,” I said harshly into the phone.
“Done, they are on their way,” he answered.
I took a retreating step and looked from the elevator to Tak’s door. A few minutes went by. “Where are they Dutch?” I demanded angrily. My anxiety growing.
“They just arrived, they’re entering the elevator now,” he said, his voice calm.
“Calm down, Jazzy. He’s going to be okay,” Trisha said, cutting through the panic filling my mind. Dutch must have handed her the phone when he heard the trace of hysterics in my voice.
Her consoling words were enough to dull the panic inside of me. The elevator dinged and two police officers and a hotel staff member came around the corner moments later. Relief poured through me and I hung up the phone, shooting Tak’s room one more look before I left.
Entering my room not too far away, I cracked the door just enough, so I could watch as they banged on Tak’s. Seeing there was no response, the two cops gave each other a nod before they asked the hotel employee to open the door.
The yell of shock that followed their entrance was all I needed. My heart tightened. I exited the room and walked past them, giving the room a brief glance. Not able to see anything, I looked away. However, I was able to hear the sound of the people speaking inside.
“Mr. Jensei, Mr. Jensei, can you hear me?” One of the cops asked. “Direct the EMT here now.” His voice held urgency.
I moved out of the way of the officer who ran behind me toward the elevator. Forcing myself to remain calm, I continued forward catching the next elevator in numb shock. The faces of the three men from before appeared in my mind.
Someone had tried to kill Tak, but why?
When my phone rang, the soothing sound of Rejected One filled the silence. I bit my lip. Rejected One, Tak’s band. Pulling my phone out, I answered.
