by A. J. Sand
“Compare all of that with a few tears at a press conference proclaiming my innocence and a donation here and there. What do you think happens? People start wondering about you, and it probably becomes something I brush off after a while. You better than anyone knows any story can be spun with the right effort. So good luck with all of that.” His stance shifted after his tirade, and he looked more confident as his shoulders squared.
Months ago, she imagined herself possibly crumbling under his menacing denials, but now she pitied him, maybe even developed more resolve to shed what he had done to her from her life, regardless of what his fate would be in the end. He didn’t get to win this. Erica was glowering. “You still think you’re untouchable. I’m not afraid of you, you know.”
Jeremy leaned in and flashed a victorious, taunting smile. “Good…and anyone worth knowing would vouch that you’d never have a reason to be.” He leaned back, smiling like they were having a pleasant conversation. “Anyway, your clients are awesome. Let me know if they’re ever interested in opening up a show for me in the future. Have a good night, Erica.” One side of Jeremy’s mouth pulled up.
A burning sensation flared behind her eyes. “Kai told me what he thought you were going to do with that girl all those years ago…”
“Kai should keep his fucking mouth shut,” he snapped.
Erica shook her head. “Other people would come forward, I bet. I’m almost sure I’m not the only one you’ve done this to.” She and Kai had never been able to determine that definitively, though.
Jeremy smirked. “What I’ve done is have tons of sex with a lot of girls, and well, I gotta say, you’re the first to compla—”
Her hand moved faster than her brain could stop her, and when her fist crashed into his cheek, she heard the popping sound of the contact over the music. Shit. They managed to reflect the same horrified look afterward. Hers changed into something closer to amusement very quickly, though. Not good, but the asshole had deserved it.
“Oh my God, you’re Jeremy Bunyan! I heard you were here tonight,” a woman came up to him and said. She was beaming and waving and soon pulling him to her for a hug. When he leaned, Erica caught a glimpse of the red splotch on his face. “I have to pee but I want a picture!”
“You don’t want to go that route, sweetie. He’s dangerous,” Erica spat. “He’s a rapist.” She’d hit him already, so she had moved into full-on “Fuck It” mode. And the truth was, it felt good to say aloud. Words, indeed, had power.
The woman’s eyebrows rose and she looked back and forth between them. “Uh… What?”
“She’s psychotic, but it’s nice to meet you,” Jeremy said, smiling at her. “Come out and we’ll take a picture. I love meeting fans.”
“Okay.” She was cheerful, but some of her enthusiasm had withered. The girl looked back at Erica once before she walked toward the bathroom.
“E? Are you back here?” Abel. “Holy shit, I just found out what—you motherfucker!” He was at her side in seconds, and rage was like an inferno in his eyes when they hooked on Jeremy. Oh for fuck’s sake. Okay, so her punch was definitely out of line, but whatever Abel was about to do would make it look like a high-five between friends. “Get the fuck away from her now, or I will rip your spine out, shape it like a fuckin’ balloon animal and hand it back to you!”
Erica snapped into action, taking on the painstaking task of pushing her own emotions aside for a second. “Abel, we need to walk away now.” She clasped his wrist and looked around. She really didn’t want to cause any more of a scene. Donnie and Casi were the ones she was worried about; they didn’t need to be dragged into this mess. Thankfully, she had a few elements on her side: the club itself was dark and loud, and people were drunk and enjoying themselves.
Jeremy’s demeanor tensed for the first time, and he aimed spiteful eyes at Abel. “Whatever she told you, she’s lying! Okay, look, E and I had sex. She just feels guilty about what happened. The only reason I didn’t say anything about it the day after in Thailand is because I didn’t want her to be embarrassed.” He turned to Erica. “I was trying to respect your privacy! This whole time I denied it because I was trying to keep your secret.”
“The only secret I’ve kept is what you did!”
“Believe me, Abe, Erica didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do that night. Think about it, how many times has a girl done something and then thought it was a mistake, so she covered her ass?”
“Dude, I suggest you shut up!” Abel shouted. “Shut the hell up! Now!”
“Oh, fuck you, Jeremy! I would never undermine the experience of everyone who has been through something like this by lying about it, and I would never, ever cheat on Bryson, you asshole,” Erica fired back. Maybe she and Abel were going to have to take turns holding each other back, because her annoyance was a notch or two away from physical aggression again. For a moment, everything felt surreal in a devastating way. There were countless times she and Jeremy had hung out together, laughed, talked about their relationships and their families, hugged, slept right next to each other after some crazy party, and had crude inappropriate inside jokes with each other, like all friends. And that’s where most of the pain came from, those memories, the ones every once in a while she compulsively searched through for clues, even though she knew better.
“What happens between you and Bryson is really none of my concern,” he said to her before turning back to Abel. “It’s funny how you didn’t think I was such a bad guy a few months ago, and now you’re throwing away our friendship over this. What, did she open those pretty legs up for you, too?”
The comment was like a lance through her abdomen. Ignore it. Ignore it.
“I’m about to open up another hole in your fucking head.”
Jeremy dodged the sudden swing of Abel’s arm after he wrested it out of Erica’s grip, but Abel knocked him back with his other hand. Jeremy, in turn, launched him backward with a hard shove to the chest with both palms. Erica moved quickly to Abel’s side and gripped his arm again before he hurtled toward Jeremy.
“Abel…” she said, her voice shaking. The muscles in Abel’s forearm tensed in her grip when he balled his fists. Erica couldn’t actually hold him back, so at this point she had to trust in his ability to heed his internal restraint.
But, man, was she about to plead.
“Abe, please don’t,” she said, straining futilely to pull him away. “He’s not worth it. Don’t waste your time. Let’s just go.”
When he looked at her, calm swam into his eyes for just a second, but she knew he didn’t want it to. He wanted to be enraged, he wanted to protect her this time. Use every bit of his strength to enact justice…and find redemption.
“Just remember, there’s more than one of me…” Abel said when he turned back to Jeremy. “And we’re coming for you.”
“Whatever, Elliott. You’re dumb as hell for believing everything you hear.”
Thankfully, Abel relented to the motion of her pulling him, and she dragged him back to the main part of the nightclub, leaving Jeremy in the hallway. Fading Fast was on a break, so Rock Top 40 was blaring from the speakers, but people were having a great time. Still clutching Abel’s arm, she took them straight to the bar. Adrenaline rush dying down, her fingers were starting to ache, and her teeth were chattering at this point.
“What happened to your hand, E?” Abel asked when he spotted her shaking her wrist.
“I punched him,” she whispered. She was embarrassed now. Jeremy had meant to push her buttons. He had been trying to get to her to react in some way. It was a subtle means of having control over her still.
“At least one of us got to do it.”
“Shots?”
“Shots. We’ll take a cab back to my place. I’ll come pick up my bike tomorrow.” He signaled the bartender and ordered the hardest vodka available. She needed it. “What was he saying to you?” Abel caged her in with just one arm protectively when Jeremy and a group of guys walked across the ro
om. The bartender set down four shots, and they wasted no time tossing them back.
“He was just being a terrible person. So nothing new. And whatever insane ideas you’re getting and then planning to run by your equally insane brother, you need to drop it,” Erica insisted. “Remember what happened with Kai? No one else is getting into legal trouble over me…or him.”
“Yeah, I remember Kai getting probation…I can handle that…”
“But I couldn’t handle it, Abel. You’re doing exactly what I don’t want,” Erica countered. “It’s bad enough I’m making bad decisions over this situation.” He held a remorseful look on her.
“Fuck. I don’t know how to fix this…I just want it to be better for you,” Abel said in what was barely a whisper. He’d been doing that a lot today, and Abel wasn’t really a whisperer. Erica took his hand and squeezed it to comfort him. “What I should want is what you want.”
“Well, I got my friend back, and I’d like the friendship back, too. You were like a goddamn helicopter mom tonight. I appreciate you caring enough to be worried about me, and looking out for me, but I still need some autonomy, you know? It helps me feel like myself. Especially after…everything…”
He exhaled and smiled and pecked a kiss on her cheek. “Got it. No more ‘Crazy Abel’…” He trailed off when his cell rang. “It’s Wesley; give me a minute.” Downing his second shot, Abel pressed the cell to his ear and strolled away from the bar.
Erica grimaced as her second shot went down. Crap. My phone. It was still in the corridor but at least Jeremy wasn’t, even if his harsh words had taken up occupancy in her head. She had expected this, but it still hurt a lot. She walked back to the hallway to retrieve the cell. Thankfully, it was still intact and still there.
“E, you all right? Did that guy piss you off?” Fitz was standing near the bathrooms and chatting with a girl from his group of friends. He swayed after he pushed himself upright from his lean against the wall. The woman looked sober, so there was still hope that he would get home and not locked up on a DUI.
“Jeremy?”
“Bunyan? No. That guy I saw you talking to earlier. The dark-haired one. I think you danced with him for a little while. I didn’t even realize you two knew each other.”
Matt. Crap. I completely forgot about him. And she hated the way things had gone earlier. “Why? You know him?”
“Yeah.” Fitz nodded. “We drink together sometimes.”
“Really? You know Matt?” She’d been spending time with one of Fitz’s friends unknowingly? Matt didn’t fit Fitz’s typical rowdy circle. And why hadn’t Matt just told her that or hung out with them at all tonight?
Fitz furrowed his brow. “Matt? No… Guess I’m confused. I drink with tons of people… Looked like a guy I know.”
There were no messages from either Matt or Bryson on her phone, but something had buzzed earlier before she bumped into Jeremy. Erica scanned through her emails, pausing on a Google Alert from a few hours ago that she’d set up for Silver Method Records: Music Exec Jeff Ellis hospitalized following heart attack.
“Holy shit.” She didn’t even bother reading the story. She needed to find Bryson. After a quick meeting with Fading Fast before they went back on stage, she tore through the club searching for Abel, barely able to move on her wobbly legs. Poor Bryce. This was Jeff’s second heart attack in just as many years. The man was smart in business but neglected his health, which always made Bryson worry a lot. Exercise and diets are for women, Jeff had told her once.
A call to Bryson only resulted in hearing his voicemail, and it was too full to leave a message. Cedars-Sinai was probably where Jeff had been admitted, and that’s where she’d go as soon as she found Abel. After scouring the club, she went outside, repeatedly dialing his cell and yelling his name. Maybe he went back to where he parked his bike. One of the bouncers she knew offered to walk with her. Whenever she and her friends came to Luz, they always parked in the same lot a few blocks away. It always had tons of spaces available and it was cheap, but not well lit, unattended, and sketchy. And if she couldn’t find him there, she’d take a cab and leave him a text message. But he knew Bryson, and he’d want to come, too, so it was worth the trek. As they neared the lot, the echo of several grunts cut through the air. She didn’t see anyone right away, but more noises followed, like the sound of something being slammed against metal.
“A guy’s getting beat up!” someone ran out and said. “I just called the police.”
“Stay here on the street…” the bouncer warned as he moved into an aisle of parked cars. Yeah, right. Erica trailed him, pressing 911 into her cell as they went. Maybe another call would speed up the cops. Down in the very back of the parking lot, they finally spotted movement near an SUV. Three large figures were landing ferocious kicks to the body of another on the ground, and every time he tried to get up, one of them would stomp him back down. The injured man made some sounds in agony, before turning his head and expelling blood from his mouth. He flipped over and tried to crawl away, but another figure kneeled on his back, yanked his hair to raise his head, and then delivered a torrent of punches straight to his face as the others continued to kick him. He cried out with each violent blow and was rendered completely unable to retaliate or retreat.
“Oh my God!” Erica screamed. No. No. No. The jacket of the guy on the ground was brown, and his hair was long enough for the strands to splay on the concrete. It was Abel. “That’s…that’s my friend!” The bouncer hooked an arm around her, preventing her from running into the fray, because she totally would’ve. She continued to struggle in his grasp as tears shaded her vision. These were big men, and the three of them were pretty uniform in their physical mass. Like bodyguards. If this were a robbery, they would’ve walked away by now; this was purely a beating, and a vicious one, so it was no mental stretch to figure out who was behind this. “Get the fuck away from him! Get away from him!”
“The cops are on the way! Get the fuck out of here!” the bouncer yelled, and they slipped into the SUV and drove away, leaving Abel on the spot. Shortly after, the distant sound of an engine tearing down the road pressed through the air. Erica finally noticed all the people who had been standing by idly, some filming with their cells.
“Please! I have to check on him! He’s seriously hurt.” Her body went limp, not from exertion, but a feeling of general defeat, as she pleaded with the bouncer. “Please.”
“It’s not safe, Erica... They might come back.”
“We can’t just leave him like that!” And he finally let her go to him. The closer she got to Abel, the louder his distressed, haggard breaths were. Blood was like a mask on his face, and dusty smeared shoeprints were all over his clothing. It was hard to look at him without bursting into tears. “Abe, I’m here.” Erica cradled his head. “Can you move?”
After spitting more blood out, Abel grimaced and he said, “Yeah. I’m all right, baby girl.” But when he tried to sit up he yelled out in anguish and grabbed his side as he continued to wail. He wasn’t crying, she didn’t think, but the pain had forced a few tears out of his eyes. He drew up the side of his shirt, and there was a grapefruit-sized bruise forming on his right ribcage. “Those fuckers jumped me, but not before they told me that I needed to stay away from Mr. Bunyan.”
“Those motherfuckers knocked my bike over and started kicking it and shit. I’m fuckin’ pissed,” Abel said, yelling at someone on the other end of the phone as they sat in an examination room at Cedars-Sinai. Erica shushed him as she pressed out an apologetic text to Donnie and Casi, explaining her absence, and one to Matt. She got an answer from the first (they were ecstatic with how the night had gone); Matt, however, was not responding at all. She also sent a scathing one to Fitz for denying them use of his car for a ride to the hospital after he toiled over whether blood left a permanent stain on leather, when the ambulance seemed to be taking forever. “It’s not like he’s really dying, E. See? He’s still conscious ‘cause he’s screaming like a littl
e bitch,” Fitz had said.
Abel had just come back in from an X-ray, and once he was discharged, Erica planned to hunt down someone who would help her find out where in the hospital Jeff was. “No, bruised ribs. My face is pretty ug right now, too. Vicodin, dude. Yeah, that’s really the best part. Man, they better be healed by the U.S. Open. Yeah. Nononono. She’s fine. No, dude, she’s fine. Goddammit, I said she’s fine. Yeah, she’s right here.” Abel handed her the phone. “He’s such a spaz.”
Erica immediately knew who it was on the other end, and she rolled her eyes as she pressed the cell to her ear and walked to the corner of the room. “Hey, Kai.”
“I’m not a spaz! And I’m booking a fucking ticket right now,” he said with agitation.
“Oh? Are you coming to see Dylan?” she asked sarcastically. “She really does miss you.”
“Don’t try to distract me with my girlfriend! I won’t go after Jeremy, don’t worry, but me and Lek are just gonna send a message by making sure Chase can’t—not won’t but definitely can’t—just drop by—”
“She told you?” Dammit, Dylan.
“Of course, my girlfriend told me that our friend is being stalked. I’ve known since it happened because she cares about you, but she swore me to secrecy and begged me not to hit anything. Or say anything.”
“He’s not stalking me. He apparently hired someone else to do it legally. And Kai, you can’t just hop on a goddamn plane every time you hear about something. I don’t want what happened last year to happen again. Can you encourage Abel to press charges or something?”
“Does Abel seem like the ‘press charges’ type?” Kai laughed before getting really serious. “And look, Erica Evigan, I’m always going to protect you whenever. You are my family. So suck it up.”
