Jersey Six(76)

“Not now,” she whispered, exhausted from a long day. Almost twenty hours without sleep.

“It has to be now.”

“I’ll finish it if you tell me how horrible the thing is you did.”

“Horrible enough to leave that life behind.” For the first time, she could see lines of regret on his face and hear it in his weak voice.

“Tell me.”

He closed his eyes and mumbled, “Not now.”



“Jesus …” Max frowned as they pulled into the driveway.

Half of Ian’s house looked charred. The other half seemed untouched. Chris traipsed through the front yard from the Blevins’s house with Ian’s dogs. Ian climbed out and greeted Lola and Foxy while Chris opened Jersey’s door.

She fell into his arms, her mind riddled with the events and revelations of the previous twenty-four hours. Ian glanced at her, looking like he could murder someone. Jersey didn’t care. His days of killing would soon come to an end, and so would hers.

“I missed you.” Chris squeezed her.

“Missed you too. I’m so glad you’re okay. You had to be freaking out. I mean …” She looked him over when he released her. “Did it trigger any emotions or memories?”

Chris eyed Ian and shook his head.

“Were you here when it happened?”

“Yeah. I heard the explosion, but I didn’t know where it came from. I ran outside, and that’s when I saw the neighbor’s house. I called 9-1-1 while running toward the fire. I had no idea if anyone was home, but I wanted to make sure they got out. The doors were locked, and before I knew it, the side of Ian’s house was in flames.” He spoke to Jersey but kept his gaze on Ian, just a few feet away, the whole time. He seemed distracted by Ian.

“So I ran back over here and rescued the dogs. The fire sprinklers turned on right after I got through the front door. It appears most of the damage inside is from water and smoke.”

Jersey’s gaze followed Ian as he walked around the taped-off perimeter with Shane and Max.

“Hope they know they’re not supposed to go inside until the fire chief gives them permission,” Chris said.

Jersey didn’t respond. Her thoughts felt like sludge.

Tragedy.

Murder.

Shock.

Lies.

Deception.

Love. That was the hardest emotion to handle.

“What’s up with the rest of the tour?” Chris folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the vehicle.

She shrugged. “I think it’s been canceled. I heard them talking about a major setback on top of the already bad publicity. And supposedly his record label could drop him or sue him.”

“Thanks to us.”

Jersey inwardly cringed. Why did ruining Ian feel worse than killing him?

“Had we known this would happen, we might not have had to do any more than sit back and watch fate do its thing.”

Chris chuckled. “Are you kidding me?”

She shot him a squinted look. “What do you mean?”

“Jesus, Jers … I thought we were just role playing for shits and giggles and the proximity of the enemy.” He nodded toward the house where Ian, Max, and Shane were out of earshot.

“What are you—”

He pivoted, putting everyone else at his back, at least twenty yards away. Looming over Jersey, he waited for her to look up at him. “Listen, my very best friend in the whole wide world, I fear you grossly underestimated the level at which this game of revenge needs to be played. We agreed to destroy him in every way. You have been trying to fuck him to death, while I’ve been doing real things to make his life miserable.”

Jersey’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“You sliced open a man’s torso and watched him bleed out. You don’t get to give me the doe-eyed look of shock for starting a little fire.”

“A-a little fire?” she stuttered, pointing toward the neighbor’s house. “You did this? Why did you blow up their house?”

Chris twisted his face, pulling his head back in disbelief. “Um … duh, I’m pretty sure setting Ian’s house on fire would have drawn negative attention and suspicion toward me. But…” he held up his finger like the best idea in the world just popped into his head “…Ian’s house being collateral damage and me saving his precious dogs—even if he’s too much of a dick to say thank you—was a brilliant idea. Don’t you think?”

“No! You—”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck it all anyway! You love him, Jers.” He pressed his palms to the side of his head.

Her face wrinkled as she swallowed her anger and his bitter-tasting accusation.

“And you’re right, Jers, about what you said awhile back. Giving a life and taking a life for someone are two different things. I don’t know if I can go all the way and actually kill him. So this…” he nodded toward the rubble “…is as far as I can go. I double and triple checked that no one was home next door because I wasn’t willing to actually let someone die. Deep in my conscience, I carry this awful feeling that whatever happened to me…” he held out his scarred arms “…probably didn’t end well for someone else.”

Jersey watched as Ian, Shane, and Max crossed the tape and entered the house.