Intrepid_A Vigilantes Novel

by Keri Lake

  Bea, of course, had given me shit. And I still owed her a dozen Krispy Kremes.

  “Not tonight,” I answered, glancing back at a stack of books on the desk beside my bed. “I was going to do some studying.”

  She tipped her head, eyes swirling with all kinds of disapproval. “You are not staying home on a Friday night to study. Especially when you’re feeling down like this. Now, as your roommate, who has your best interests in mind, I am telling you to get your ass in gear and get some clothes on.”

  Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to just be eighteen, and wild like my mother, and not carry the weight of someone’s fate all night. What good would it do me to sit and wallow in misery, anyway? Jo would’ve hated knowing I stressed so much over her.

  “Okay. But … I’m not staying out all night, or anything.”

  “Couple hours. It’ll be fun. Promise.”

  * * *

  Fox In A Box railed through the speakers set at each side of the stage, where the Gore Gore Girls hammered on their guitars for the sweaty, claustrophobic-looking crowd gathered around them.

  I watched from a distance, sipping what Bea had referred to as jungle juice from a Solo cup. She and Simone had gotten in on the mosh-pit toward the front of the stage—an absolute no-no for me, so I’d parked myself on a wooden picnic table, beside my half eaten corndog, from where I could see them.

  Selden Street had been blocked off at both ends and morphed into a half mile of tents, Porta-johns, and tables. I liked the idea of being outside in the open, in the event a fight broke out, or a fire started—at least we weren’t trapped inside of a building, like the night at the Savarine.

  Though I couldn’t help but smile at the memory of climbing down the chimney with Ty.

  He definitely would’ve taken my mind off my father. Ty had a way of consuming me whenever he was around. The world, my worries, none of it seemed to exist when I was with him, as if we lived inside our own little bubble.

  Although, something was making me feel pretty damn relaxed all of a sudden.

  Heat radiated across my cheeks, and the worry from before dissipated into a warm, cozy sensation. With the music playing, the cool night breeze, and the delicious drink in my hand, everything felt right.

  I smiled and kicked back another sip, noticing my drink was nearly gone. Once, during senior year, Dean had managed to coax me into a lemon drop shot that’d got me so drunk, I vowed to stay away from alcohol for the rest of my life.

  Leave it to my father to stress me into breaking my vow.

  I pushed from the table to toss away the cup and plate, but stumbled backward, my field of vision slowly trailing behind the turn of my head.

  What the hell …

  “Need another?”

  I turned to the sound of the unrecognizable voice, and found a guy in a beanie cap sitting next to me. Long straggly brown hair stuck out from his hat around his gunmetal gray eyes.

  “Do I know you?” My voice slurred with the question, and I screwed my mouth shut at the disturbing evidence that I might’ve sipped my drink too fast. Bea had warned me to take it slow, but the fruity taste reminded me of the virgin daiquiris Jo had made for me sometimes during summer, when my father wasn’t around and we’d sat by the pool.

  I’d sucked those down, too.

  The stranger chuckled, sitting forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. “S’at jungle juice?”

  I nodded, polishing off the last of it, because even though I knew I shouldn’t, it was damn good.

  “You want more?”

  My eyelids seemed heavier than before. Sleepier. “No.”

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Not interested.”

  “Not interested in telling me your name?”

  “In whatever you’re trying to sell me. I have a boyfriend.” Ugh. I was getting slurrier by the minute.

  “S’alright. I just asked your name, is all.”

  I huffed an exasperated breath, suddenly feeling bad for being bitchy. “Sera.”

  “Sera, I’m Jackson.”

  “Jackson Pollack!” I blurted and slapped a hand to my mouth.

  His lips spread with a smile. “Messy scribbler dude, right?”

  A hiccup escaped me, jerking my whole body, and urgency tugged at my gut. I didn’t know if I had to pee, or puke, but I wasn’t about to sit and wait to find out. “Excuse me, I need to find one of the bathrooms.”

  “No bathrooms. Only Porta-johns.”

  “Know where they are?”

  I followed the path of his finger to the structures standing side-by-side a couple hundred feet away. Scanning the crowd, I squinted to find Bea and Simone still dancing away in front of the stage.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  In that case, I’d find somewhere else to sit. I didn’t like the guy hanging around me anymore. He seemed nice, but too nice sent up red flags, even if I was a little tipsy.

  I stumbled along toward the Porta-johns, the people in my periphery becoming more and more a blur as I went. Nausea churned in my stomach, and as I approached the lineup waiting to use the toilet, it intensified. I couldn’t wait for however long it’d take to reach the front of the line, and certain I needed to throw up, I kept on toward a copse of trees.

  29

  Ty

  My arms shook, clutching the edge of the bathroom sink. I watched the blood swirl down the drain, a red eddy of penitence. I’d never been the religious type, but I had to believe God gave some credit for a person’s own self-destruction—less work for Him. Although I’d hurt others, they’d hurt the ones I loved. Surely, God could cut me some slack for that. After all, if I believed what all the Christians said, it was His will that Eli had died the way he did, and that was just fucked up.

  I slapped a square of gauze over the gaping crevice in my arm where I’d carved out the small measure of guilt I felt over Fox.

  The pain felt good. So good, I needed distraction, or risk more cuts, and all my thoughts boiled down to one thing. One face that I couldn’t get out of my head. I lifted my phone from where it lay on the sink beside me, noting that the text I’d sent Sera about an hour ago still hadn’t shown up as read.

  Clicking on the GPS tracker app brought her location up on my screen. Selden Street. No doubt, she’d gone to the fair there, same one as every year, but it showed her about a block up from where the party would be going on. Could’ve been faulty pinpointing, I guessed. A miscalculation, or some shit.

  So much for studying all night, as she’d told me. Must’ve changed her mind and decided to go out, after all.

  Fuck it. I couldn’t sleep, if I’d wanted. Not with all the bullshit swirling around inside my head.

  I cleaned up my blade and dressed quickly, swiping up my helmet on the way out of my apartment. My bike sat parked at the curb, and I popped the disc lock off and stored it away, before taking off toward Selden.

  Neighborhoods passed in the gray streaks of my periphery, as I drove along side streets, avoiding the main roads. The chances of someone finding Fox over the next week were slim. I’d studied that construction site for weeks before it’d gotten shut down, and based on the location of it, not much traffic passed. Still, didn’t hurt to remain cautious and lay low for a bit.

  Another reason I needed to see Sera. Somehow, she quieted all the noise inside my head.

  I arrived on Selden block and parked the bike away from the other cars, in a wooded area toward the back of the packed lot. Lifting my phone from my pocket, I checked for a text one more time. Still nothing. Another glance at the app showed she hadn’t yet left the party.

  Punk music hammered through the speakers, as I made my way down the block, tugging my hoodie up over my head to conceal my face. I scanned the crowd, catching sight of Sera’s roommate up by the stage, head-banging away. No way my girl would venture there, not with her claustrophobia. She couldn’t stand heights, tight spaces, or crowds.

/>   GPS still said she was a block up, so I kept on, through the crowd.

  “Hey, sexy, looking for me?” A redhead interrupted my search, and I glanced down to see her flirtatious brown eyes staring up at me over the rim of her cup.

  “Looking for a girl with blonde hair and blue streaks. Seen her?”

  “Nah, but if you can’t find her, come look for me.” She tipped her head and winked back at me.

  Ignoring her, I stepped past and strode through the crowd, checking my phone every so often to see if I was hot, or cold, to Sera’s location. The music faded a bit, the farther I made my way down the block, until the floodlights dimmed into the occasional faint streetlight.

  The fuck?

  No way she’d have gone that far out.

  A voice came from the right, where a broken, overgrown sidewalk led toward trees, her location on the GPS damn near spot on.

  I followed the path into the narrow woods toward the sound, keeping to the trees on spotting a white glow in the darkness. As I approached, I could make out the phone’s light, illuminating the face of a guy who wore a beanie cap. Something lay on the ground in front of him, and when he tilted the phone back down, I caught sight of slender, jean-clad legs. The closer I got, the more of her I could see—her shirt hitched up, exposing stark white breasts with small pink nipples, and when the light landed on her blue-streaked, blonde hair, my kill switch flipped.

  Nostrils flaring, I let the rage guide my feet toward the cocksucker who was about to get laid the fuck out.

  At the crunch of leaves beneath my boot, he spun around, but not fast enough.

  I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up off the ground, and pinned him to the tree behind him.

  “What the fuck!” He struggled and wrenched my arm away, coughing as he fell back to his feet.

  I nailed his cheek with my fist, and his phone dropped to the ground as he stumbled to the side. Another punch to his face sent him crashing to the forest bed. The seconds in between gave me the opportunity to grab his phone, on which a picture of Sera’s breasts had been zoomed in on, her bra peeled back.

  The sight took me back to that dark pantry, when Fox had held up a picture of Eli’s naked body and flames had surged through my veins.

  I snarled and lurched toward him again.

  The asshole kicked back, trying to get away from me, but I caught his ankle and dragged him across the brush. No way I’d let him get away from me.

  “You’re fucking dead!” The rage exploded to the surface, and I pounced on him, hammering my fist down again and again and again. Blood coated his face, the resounding crack of my punches sending a thrill down my spine.

  When he finally stilled beneath me, I pushed off him and backed myself away, still breathing hard from the scuffle. Dropping to my knees beside Sera, I lowered my ear to her mouth. Her liquor stained breath scattered across my cheek, and I tugged down her shirt to cover her up.

  Above her head sat a boulder about the size of a bowling ball. I jumped to my feet and lifted into my arms before making my way back to where Beanie Cap laid writhing and moaning on the ground.

  His swollen eyes widened about as much as they could, and he lifted his hands to shield his eyes. “Please,” he lisped through his fat, split lip. “I didn’t mean …. I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, man.” He sounded like he’d gotten a tooth extraction and had a mouth full of cotton. “I just took pictures, is all.” His throat bobbed with a harsh swallow. “Nothing else, just pictures.”

  Fury pulsed through my veins as I tossed the phone down beside his head and let the boulder drop, crushing the plastic beneath in an explosion of broken fragments.

  Crouching alongside him once more, I gripped tight to his jaw, inciting a yelp, as I pinched the bruises I’d put there. “You almost died tonight. Had your dick come anywhere near her, I’d have severed it from your body and made you choke on it before I slit your throat. Remember that next time you decide to touch what belongs to another man.”

  “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, man. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

  I pushed to my feet and returned to Sera’s side, scooping her up into my arms. Without opening her eyes, she curled into my chest, wrapping her arms around my neck. Bodies scooted out of my way, parting like the Red Sea, as I made my way back through the crowd.

  Sera’s roommate darted toward me, a look of panic coloring her face. “Oh, my God! Is she okay? What happened?”

  “She’s passed out.” I didn’t bother to stop, and the girl and her friend with the braids trailed after me.

  “She took off again!” The frustration in her voice skated down my back.

  I wanted to rain hell and tell her she should’ve been watching her, but Sera wasn’t a child. She didn’t need a babysitter.

  Though, it was clear to me that she did need someone to take care of her.

  I loaded her into the back of the Prius, as Bea and Simone scrambled for the driver and passenger seats. “I’ll follow you back,” I told them.

  “Ty, I’m so sorry about this. She had a shitty day, and we were just trying to make her feel better.”

  Giving a curt nod, I slammed the door and headed toward my bike.

  30

  Sera

  Agony pounded through my head, and I squeezed my eyes tight in a poor attempt to ease the ache. When it didn’t work, I blinked them open to a dimly-lit room, and something warm and soft, like skin, beneath my cheek.

  Wait. Warm skin?

  A flashback of the guy with the beanie added another stab of throbbing pain.

  Oh, God, I didn’t …

  I lifted my head and held my breath, staring at those familiar, diamond-blue eyes. “Ty?”

  Another lightning bolt of pain struck my skull, and I grimaced, pressing my fingers into my temple. As the ache subsided, I swung my attention back to Ty, noticing the tight clench of his jaw and the pissed off expression on his face.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought you planned to study.” His words arrived clipped and venomous, only adding to my confusion.

  “I’m sorry, did I … piss in your Cheerios tonight?”

  “It’d be nice if you could stay out of trouble.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you remember anything about last night?”

  “I remember feeling sick. I went to go to the Porta-john but there was a long line. So I found a place and …. I don’t remember what happened after that.” I frowned, trying to ligate the black void inside my head with what little I did remember. “How did you get here? Last I heard, you had something for work.”

  “I found you passed out.”

  “Oh.” I pushed to a sitting position and rubbed my forehead, trying to remember how I’d gotten to bed. As pissed off as he looked, I certainly wasn’t about to ask him if he knew. “I had some jungle juice … and … I guess it didn’t … sit well.” Another round of nausea struck, spinning the room around much too fast to sit still. I scrambled across the bed and ran toward the bathroom, reaching there just in time to expel the orangey-red fluids from my mouth. Acids burned my throat with a second heave. And a third. My stomach pushed the poisonous liquor from my system, until all that remained was the sour stench beneath my nose, and I flushed it away.

  Clutching the edge of the sink beside me, I pulled myself to my feet and flushed my mouth with water. The sour taste still lingered, though, so I swished some mouthwash and did a quick brushing. The tangy juice flavor gave way to harsh mint that burned my tongue. My face had gone sickly white, lips thin and shiny. I couldn’t stand to look at myself.

  Every muscle in my body vibrated, and my chest tightened with the shivers. I couldn’t get warm. The blue of my fingernail beds was enough to have me flipping on the hot water, and I let it run over my hands. Though it offered some warmth, it still didn’t eliminate the chill settling across my bones.

  Shirtless, Ty stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a bottle of water c
oated in a frosty layer clutched in his hand. The angry scars on his skin didn’t steal away the fact that he looked so damn good, all the carved muscles of his chest and biceps leading down to the deep grooves of the V that disappeared into his jeans. He still seemed incensed, with that fiery angle of his brow, but when did he ever not look mad? Even when he smiled, his broody brows refused to relent their pissiness.

  A square of gauze on his arm took my attention to where a faint strip of red bled through. “What happened to your arm?”

  He didn’t bother to look down at it. “Cut myself.”

  Had I not gotten the impression that I was somehow his source of anger, I’d have asked if he did it himself. Instead, I remained silent.

  Pushing off the doorframe, he handed me the bottle of water. “You ever have that shit before?”

  I shook my head, and judging by the queasiness in my stomach, I’d never drink it again. “Tasted good going down, but coming back up …” A rasp clung to my words, and the gurgle in my stomach threatened more expulsions. I pressed the back of my palm to my lips, breathing hard through my nose.

  “All the hardest liquors are in it. Like twenty-percent alcohol.”

  “Is that why I feel shaky and cold?” I mumbled against my hand, letting the wave of nausea pass.

  “Probably your sugars out of whack.”

  “What time is it?” I asked, cracking open the bottle and guzzling the cool liquids. Despite the immediate soothing of the burn in my throat, the drink didn’t help the chill across my skin.

  “About three in the morning.”

  “You’ve been here all night?”