N9ne: The Tale of Kevin Clearwater (King, #9)(72)

“Frankie, I don’t think this is a good idea. She probably doesn’t want to watch it,” Dre says. She looks to me with understanding written all over her face. “You don’t have to.”

Frankie’s already watching it, leaning in close to her computer screen with her earbuds tucked into each ear. Her eyes go wide. She lifts her head and flashes me a brilliant smile over the top of her screen. She pulls the earbuds out. “You don’t have to watch it, but trust me, you’re going to want to see this.”

“Let me see,” Ray says. Frankie hands her an earbud, and Ray watches as Frankie plays it again for her.

Ray looks to me. “Nine killed Jared, but he was right when he said that it isn’t what you think.”

“I want to see it,” I tell them. Steeling every last nerve I have.

“Are you sure?” Dre asks. But it doesn’t matter if I’m sure or not, I’ve already grabbed Frankie’s laptop. I spin it around toward me and pull out the chord for the earbuds so the sound plays through the speakers. I hit play.

What I watch isn’t the senseless killing of my ex-boyfriend. It’s Jared, packing to leave me, just as Nine had said, when Nine and Bear approach him.

I gasp, but not when Jared walks to the safe and pulls a gun. Not when he shoots Bear and not when Nine leaps to his own defense and takes down Jared. My gasp is at Jared’s words. “I didn’t do anything. It was my girlfriend. She organized the entire thing. It was her idea. Not mine!”

That motherfucker! “He was trying to save his own life with lies that he knew would end with me getting killed.” I cover my open mouth with my palm.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks.

I don’t answer. I can’t.

“Lenny? You in there? How are you feeling?” Dre asks. “Because I’m not going to lie. You are really hard to read right now and kind of freaking me out.”

I shake my head slowly from side to side as it sinks in. I take a deep breath and smile. “I feel…relieved.”

“What do you want to do now?” Ray asks, pouring the last of the pitcher into my glass.

Tears prick my eyes. I know exactly what I want. Now more than ever.

“I want to go home.”





When I get back to the RV, Nine isn’t there, but Pike is. He’s sitting on the small step by the door next to a large garbage bag.

“You okay?” he asks. “Nine is going crazy, looking for you, you know.”

“I’ll be okay,” I admit, and I actually believe it for once. I will be okay. “What’s all this?” I point to the bag.

“It’s the stuff I couldn’t sell. I should have the cash for you by Tuesday after the website sends it. It’s more than I guessed it would be. I think you’ll be happy.”

I think I will be too.

“Thanks.” I take the bag from his hand and push the door open with my shoulder. “Hey, can you tell Nine that I’m here? I don’t have a phone.”

“Already on it,” Pike says, pulling out his phone. “I’ll wait here until he gets back.”

I go inside and shut the door. While I wait for Nine to get back, I look through the items that didn’t sell. A few of the smaller clutches, and a large tote bag that I realize isn’t mine at all, but Jared’s. It must have been in my closet by mistake. I open it up and there’s a crumpled plane ticket inside. It’s dated June 3rd, which was a week before I found his closet empty.

Jared Cox

RSW-LAS

Seat 3A

Las Vegas? I thought he was in New York that week?

I didn’t even know he had business in Vegas. I guess it doesn’t matter, there was a lot I didn’t know about Jared and about what he was up to. It’s not like I can ask him about it now. I toss the ticket to the side when a second ticket slides out from underneath. I reach over and pick it up, but it’s not the return ticket. It’s a companion ticket for 3B.

It’s the name that makes me feel like someone dropped an anvil on my fucking heart. I toss the ticket to the ground as if suddenly caught fire. “No….it…it can’t be,” I whisper to myself. I rock in place. I dig my nails into my palms, but the sting of the pain and the fresh blood rising to the surface does nothing to help me cope. “It just can’t.”

I hear the door open and assume it’s Pike coming inside. I’m prepared for his questions on why I’m shaking and rocking and making myself bleed but the questions never come.

“Oh, yes it can, and it is,” a familiar voice says.

A familiar voice that isn’t Pike.

My entire body tenses. I slowly look over my shoulder as I’m faced with my worst nightmare, a betrayal to end all betrayals.

I meet the eyes of the one person in this world I knew for a fact would never turn on me. Not for the first time in recent weeks, I’m finding out that I was wrong.

So very, very wrong.

I have so many questions, but I don’t have time to ask any of them because something hard connects with my head. Everything turns fuzzy as I slump over onto the thin carpet.

I don’t even care that I might be dying or already dead. Or that there’s blood dripping into my eyes that I can’t blink away because for some reason I’ve lost control of the ability to move my eyelids along with the rest of my limbs and functions.