by L. J. Hamlin
Being open with the band has made their life so much easier. Like now, they can go off to a hotel together, without anyone questioning it, without having to sneak around. It’s nice. Jed had done the whole secret relationship thing before. He hadn’t liked it much then, hiding from his friends and family, but all the important people know about him and Donnie.
“It’s cool how on board with us she is,” Donnie says, sipping his drink. The car drives off, and he leans against Jed’s side as they enjoy the champagne.
All of a sudden, Jed starts to feel sleepy, but it’s more than that. He’s overwhelmingly tired. He can hardly keep his eyes open.
“Jed?” He hears Donnie’s slurred, slightly panicked voice, but when he tries to respond, it’s like his tongue is too heavy, useless in his mouth.
There’s nothing Jed can do but close his eyes and fall into darkness.
* * * *
At first, Jed thinks he’s dreaming when he opens his eyes and finds himself in the desert. He’s on the dusty ground, next to the car he’d been in earlier. He looks around and sees something that makes his blood run cold. Someone has dug a rectangular hole in the ground. It looks like a grave, and the wooden box in it looks like a crude coffin.
Jed panics, looking in it to see if Donnie’s there, but he’s not, and Jed realizes his hands are tied.
“Stay where you are,” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and Jed freezes. He’s afraid. He doesn’t know what’s going on, why he is here. It would seem he’s been kidnapped.
The relief when he sees Donnie walk around the car is short lived. He has a bloody lip, his hands are tied, and he’s being held at gunpoint by a man in a ski mask.
“Donnie!” Jed yells. Seeing a gun pointed at Donnie’s head makes Jed’s stomach roll.
“Do not move,” the masked man orders, keeping the gun aimed at Donnie’s head.
Jed stays where he is, feeling helpless, as the man walks Donnie around to the other side of the open grave, where he stops. Donnie looks afraid, his eyes wide, his skin pale, blood smeared on his chin, and Jed hates it. He’s never felt more useless.
“What do you want?” Jed asks. He has a feeling this man doesn’t want money. If he’s the stalker who’s been sending notes all this time, it would seem more like he would want Jed dead. Jed feels sick that Donnie has been pulled into this.
“Simple. You get in the grave, and I bury you. Then you’ll die alone, just like I promised you would,” the man says, digging the gun into Donnie’s temple.
“Don’t do it,” Donnie says, strong even though his voice shakes with fear.
“Don’t make me hit you again,” the man says, tapping Donnie’s head with the butt of the gun.
Jed wants to jump across the distance and attack him, beat the bastard senseless for laying a hand on Donnie, but he knows he can’t. By the time Jed reached Donnie, he’d have a bullet in his brain. Jed’s brawn is useless here, even though he’s taller and broader than the man in the mask. He can’t use strength here. All he has is his wits. He has to try and talk his way out of this.
Or at least try to get Donnie out of it alive. Jed’s a realist. He’s the target here, and it’s likely he’ll die before help comes, and it scares him, but not as much as the idea of being the cause of Donnie’s death scares him.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Now that’s the question, isn’t it?” The man starts to pull his ski mask off, and Jed wants to yell and tell him not to. Donnie hasn’t seen the man’s face. He can still go free at this point, but once he’s seen the stalker, Donnie’s fate will be sealed, too. They’ll both be dead. It’ll just be a question of how. It’s clear to Jed that Donnie is only alive so he can be used as leverage to control Jed.
No words seem to form until the mask is removed and thrown to the grown, then Jed finds his voice again.
“Peter?” Jed frowns, not believing he can be right.
“You know him? The reporter?” Donnie asks, looking at the man, Peter, before flinching away when Peter presses the gun more firmly against the side of his head, the grey metal looking so out of place against Donnie’s bright red hair.
“Reporter? He’s not a reporter.” Not as far as Jed knows anyway.
“I guess I should apologize for lying to you, Donnie. Jed’s right. I’m not a reporter. But I would have happily passed on your story, had you been sensible.” Peter tsks.
“Who are you? Who is he?” Donnie asks, clearly confused.
“His name is Peter Goode. He’s Bert’s older brother,” Jed says.
“Very well remembered, Jed,” Peter says, and he has a manic gleam in his eyes.
“Why? Why have you been stalking me all these months? Why do you want me dead? I never did anything to you.” Jed’s confused. Bert hadn’t even had much to do with his family. Peter had been away at college when Jed met Bert, when the band started.
“Why? Why? You destroyed my baby brother’s life,” Peter yells, the gun shaking a little in his hand, and Jed is terrified it’ll go off by accident.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Bert tried to destroy me. He left the band, and me, and then he outed me,” Jed says, trying to be reasonable.
“Do you know how many times he’s been in rehab? He spent all his money from your stupid band trying to get clean. And I still have to track him down in alleyways and crack houses, peel him off floors, take him to the hospital when he ODs again,” Peter rants, ignoring Jed.
“Bert had a drug problem when I knew him. I tried to help him, but he didn’t want my help. He didn’t want to quit. I’m not to blame for the way his life is now. You want me to suffocate in a box in the desert because Bert still does coke?” Jed can hardly believe it. He’s been scared for months, living in fear of his mystery stalker, and this is why?
“He never would have touched drugs if not for you and your fucking band,” Peter growls.
Jed thinks they might be lucky Peter didn’t target the whole band. He clearly blames them all for Bert’s troubles. Jed’s almost glad Peter’s focused on him and didn’t aim for all of them.
“I never gave Bert cocaine. No one in the band uses it,” Jed says.
“Get in the ground. I want you to suffer like Bert suffers every day,” Peter orders.
“I will if you let Donnie go. He wasn’t even a part of the band when Bert was. You can’t blame him for what happened to Bert,” Jed replies.
“You don’t get to make the rules here. Get in the box, now,” Peter barks.
Jed doesn’t know what to do, and clearly, he doesn’t move fast enough for Bert, who moves the gun. He aims down and fires, hitting Donnie in the knee. Donnie yells out, a strangled sound as he hits the ground, blood pouring out onto the desert sand.
Jed moves on instinct, throwing himself toward Donnie, but he stops when Peter aims the gun again, pointing it back at Donnie on the ground, his eyes on Jed.
“He can die fast. Or he can die slow like you will. I can put a bullet in every joint, and I will, if you don’t get in the box,” Peter snarls.
“Okay, okay, don’t shoot him again, please,” Jed begs, starting towards the hole.
Jed takes one step toward his own grave when Donnie grabs for Peter, knocking him to the ground and making a grab for the gun. Jed races towards them, his heart in his throat. He’s a step away when he hears the gun go off again, loud and sudden.
“No!” Jed yells.
Donnie rolls off of Peter, and there is blood on both of them, on their chests, and all over Donnie’s knee and leg. It’s not until Jed takes another step closer that he can see the hole in Peter’s shirt.
Jed goes to Donnie’s side and helps Donnie get further away from Peter, but Donnie can’t move far. He collapses on the ground, clearly in pain.
“Is he dead?” Donnie asks.
“I think so,” Jed says, looking at Peter. He isn’t moving, not at all. He’s unnaturally still.
“You need to find a phone and call for help. I
’m bleeding a lot,” Donnie says. He’s holding his knee tightly, and he looks pale. Jed’s worried he’s going into shock.
Even though he’s afraid Peter will wake up, Jed goes over and feels through his pockets till he finds a cell phone. He calls the police, who, when he explains everything, say they can trace the phone and to stay on the line.
“Help will be here soon,” Jed says, but Donnie doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed.
“Donnie, Donnie, wake up,” Jed says, shaking Donnie. He begs the person on the phone to get help there quicker because he thinks Donnie could be dying.
“Baby, please don’t die,” Jed begs.
It feels like he holds Donnie in his arms forever before he spots flashing lights. Then everything’s a blur. They have to drag him away from Donnie, who’s rushed into an ambulance. Jed just watches him go, feeling more helpless than he’s ever felt in his life.
Another team of paramedics comes over to check Jed over, but he explains the blood on him isn’t his, but they must think something is wrong with him because they give him an injection, some kind of pain killer.
Jed feels out of it, half-asleep. He just goes and does as he’s told. He feels like he’s in some kind of fucked up dream. All he can think of is Donnie, the sound of gun fire. His thoughts don’t really focus until he’s in a room in a hospital. Jed thinks it’s the staff room. Jamie’s sitting beside him.
“Donnie, where’s Donnie?” Jed asks.
“He’s still in surgery. You seem more with it. How are you feeling?” Jamie asks.
“But he’s alive?” Jed isn’t a praying man, but he feels like praying now, asking that Donnie will be okay.
“Yes. They’ve said he’s not in any real danger anymore, but his knee’s badly damaged,” Jamie explains, and then she hugs him. “I was so worried when they said the car hadn’t shown up at the hotel. I was so sure you were dead. I’ve never been so scared in my life. And then your bodyguard admitted that a ‘fan’ paid him to let them drive you. The guard was from a new company—they found your bodyguard shot in the trunk,” Jamie says into Jed’s neck, and Jed thinks she might be crying. He can’t remember seeing Jamie cry, not since they were young.
“I know the feeling. I think I might have gone gray when I saw that gun aimed at Donnie.” Jed still feels sick, He holds Jamie a little tighter for a moment, then lets her go, looking at himself. He has blood on his jeans and shirt: Donnie’s blood. It makes him feel worse.
“What happened? The police didn’t tell me much.”
Jed explains about being in the car, being drugged and taken to the desert, and what happened there.
“Bert has been a curse since the day he walked into our lives,” Jamie says, shaking her head.
“I know, but I don’t think this was directly his fault. Peter chose to put the blame on me for Bert’s addiction. I guess he didn’t want to admit it was Bert’s fault.” Jed feels a little sorry for Bert. He’d wanted the rock and roll lifestyle, and he’d gotten lost in it.
“I’m still pissed at him. He brought this trouble to your door. I wish I’d seen Peter before. I would have known it was him in the dressing room that day. I wish I had, I wish I could have stopped this from happening. I’m so sorry Donnie got hurt,” Jamie says in a rush.
“It’s not your fault,” Jed says firmly, taking Jamie’s hand.
They can do nothing but wait together. Eventually, someone comes to talk to them, hours later, to tell them Donnie is awake. The band arrive with Kelly once they’ve talked with the police, but Donnie is allowed only two visitors at a time, so they let Jed and Jamie go for support. Jed has never been more relieved in his life. A nurse leads them to Donnie’s room, where he’s lying in a bed, looking groggy, one leg bulky under the bedding.
“Donnie,” Jed practically runs over to the bed, but he’s careful when he takes Donnie’s hand.
“Hey,” Donnie says quietly.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jed asks.
“Like I got run over by a bus,” Donnie sighs.
“I love you,” Jed blurts out, but he means it.
It’s not how Jed ever meant to say it to Donnie, in a hospital room with his ex-wife looking on, but he can’t bring himself to regret the words. He means them.
“I love you, too,” Donnie says softly.
Jamie smiles faintly. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll go let the rest of the band know that Donnie’s awake.”
Jed presses a chaste kiss to Donnie’s lips, holding his hand tightly.
“I was so afraid. I thought I was going to lose you,” Jed admits.
“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Donnie says quietly.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop you getting hurt,” Jed says, eyes stinging.
“Not your fault.”
“I…This all happened because of me. Peter was after me. He shot you because of me.”
“It happened because that guy was a crazy fuck. I’m just glad it’s over.” Donnie looks hesitant, but he squeezes Jed’s hand. “I killed him, right?” Donnie asks. “I’m not imagining that?”
“Yeah, he was dead when they got there.” Jed nods, hating how his words make Donnie go pale.
“I can’t believe I killed someone,” Donnie says softly.
“You had to. He would have killed us both,” Jed says firmly. He’ll keep saying it till Donnie believes him. “You were brave. Crazy, but brave.” He leans in and kisses Donnie carefully, aware of his damaged lip. He knows they’ll have a lot to deal with, that the police will want to talk to them again. But right now, Jed doesn’t care about anything but being here with Donnie, both of them safe.
Chapter 11
“Need another drink, honey?” Penny asks, getting up.
The band, plus Jamie and Kelly, are all in Jed’s living room. They’d had lunch in because Donnie’s knee is still in a brace, and he’s on crutches.
“Yes, please.” Donnie’s friends have been great about looking after him. The past two months haven’t been easy with his injury, but they’ve helped a lot.
“Anyone else?” Penny asks.
“I could use a soda.” Brenton nods.
“I’ll help you.” Kelly gets up, heading for the kitchen with Penny.
They’ve only officially been dating for a couple of weeks, but the sparks have been there since the first time they met. Donnie likes seeing them together. They’re sweet. They’re both really awesome women, so Donnie’s not surprised they click. He’s always liked seeing happy couples, even more so when they’re his friends.
“How’s the physical therapy going?” Drew asks when he sees Donnie adjusting his leg. He still has to keep it elevated a lot of the time.
“Ugh, I hate it, but I guess it’s going well. My therapist is such a bully,” Donnie says.
“She’s just doing what’s best for you. And it’s helping so much. You can walk across a room now, and you can get up the stairs with hardly any help,” Jed says from where he’s sitting next to Donnie.
There had been times, in the first weeks after Donnie was shot, when he had thought he would never do those things again. He’d never felt physical pain like it. When he first woke up in the hospital, it hadn’t hurt that bad, but he’d still been numb from the surgery. Once that wore off, he was in agony.
It had taken a lot to not just give in. He’s taken the pain killers, done his exercises, and slowly he’s seen improvement. The bullet did a lot of damage to his knee, but the doctors have said that most of it will heal. He might be left with some pain that won’t go away completely, but all things considered, Donnie got lucky.
“You’re as bossy as she is when it comes to my therapy,” Donnie says.
“I’m not bossy,” Jed argues.
Jamie snorts. “Yes, you are.”
“No ganging up on me,” Jed complains. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but Jamie does take Donnie’s side an awful lot. Half the time because Donnie is right, but he suspects she does it the other half j
ust because she likes annoying Jed.
“Who’s ganging up on Jed?” Penny asks, coming back with a couple cans of soda, Kelly behind her with a few more.
“Who do you think?” Brenton asks.
“Jamie and Donnie?” Kelly guesses.
“Of course.” Drew laughs.
“In my own house, too.” Jed shakes his head sadly, and he puts his hand on Donnie’s uninjured knee as Penny and Kelly hand out drinks and then take their seats.
“Man up,” Donnie jokes.
“You see that, everybody? He’s so cruel to me.” Jed sighs dramatically.
“You know I love you,” Donnie says, leaning in and pressing a smacking kiss to Jed’s cheek. The kiss is kind of a joke, but the words aren’t.
Donnie’s said them a lot these past few months. He’s said the same words lots of different ways. The first time he almost hadn’t meant to, even though Jed said it first. Donnie had been a mess inside: fear, relief, a ton of emotions in his head. They’d just been kidnapped. He’d just killed a man. Donnie still doesn’t regret saying them when he did. He’d been falling for Jed since day one. It was about time he said it.
“Love you, too,” Jed says back. He tangles a hand in Donnie’s hair and tugs him in for a proper kiss.
“Ew, they’re getting mushy,” Drew complains.
“PDA warning, guys.” Jamie sounds like she might be rolling her eyes.
“Again, I point out, it’s my house. I’ll do what I like,” Jed says primly when he breaks the kiss, but he keeps a hand in Donnie’s hair, playing with it a little. Donnie leans in to the touch.
“I thought you guys were rock stars. Shouldn’t PDA really be normal?” Kelly teases.
“You like public displays of affection?” Penny asks, a spark in her brown eyes.
“I think people shouldn’t have to hide how they feel,” Kelly says softly.
“Me too,” Penny says, and she leans in, a gentle hand tipping up Kelly’s jaw for a very loving kiss.
“Aww, now that’s sweet,” Jamie coos. Donnie happens to agree with her.
“How comes it’s sweet when they kiss, but I get hassled when I kiss Donnie?” Jed complains.
