Come to Me Quietly(86)

Jared leaned in close and growled in his face, the words hoarse as they ripped from his throat. “What the f*ck did you say? Say it again, f*cker. I dare you, say it again.” Pulling back a fraction, Jared slammed him down again. “Say it again.”



The crowd swarmed, vying to get a better view.

“Fuck you,” the guy all but moaned. Jared had stripped him of any other form of defense, so the guy spat in his face.

Incensed, Jared roared and raised the cue above his head.

I realized I was screaming, screaming Jared’s name. “Jared, stop! Oh my God, please stop!”



Seemingly prompted by the fear in my voice, Christopher reacted. From behind, he yanked the stick from Jared’s hands. Jared whirled around, flinging his fist, his blue eyes wild as he readied for another attacker.

Christopher was quick enough to jump back, and the aimless punch connected with air. “Jared, come on, man, look at me.” Christopher came in close to Jared’s face, his hands on his shoulders. Jared struggled to break free. “Come on, Jared, snap the f*ck out of it. This * isn’t worth it, and I guarantee the cops are on their way. We have to get Aly out of here.”



Bouncers were making their way through the leering crowd just as those wild blue eyes darted to me. Pain crumpled his face, and he raised his bloodied fists in some kind of tortured surrender.

Christopher jumped into action and jerked me by the hand. “Come on. We have to get out of here.” Shoving through the throng, Christopher headed toward the back. The crowd seemed to open and swallow us whole. People pressed into us, holding us back, then surging us forward. I grasped at Jared’s hand, holding tight as Christopher expertly forged our escape.

We stumbled out the back door. More people were cluttered in groups as they gathered to smoke, standing in the thick night air that was heavy with the growing storm. Thunder rumbled overhead, flashes of lightning illuminating the blackened sky. Wind gusted hard, whipping up dirt and debris as it blew in low. Cringing, I looked to the ominous sky.

“Come on, this way,” Christopher commanded. He pointed to the right, then tightened his hold on my hand as he took off at a jog into the darkness that ran behind a strip mall that had long since been closed down for the night.

My hold tightened on Jared’s hand as I dragged him behind me. I refused to let him go.

Christopher wound us back around the long way. The approaching storm pressed in from above. Energy crackled through the clouds and sped along the ground. Lightning flashed, and I stole a furtive glance over my shoulder at Jared. He kept his face hidden as he trained his eyes on his feet, his hand almost limp where it burned against mine.

I wanted to stop, to take his face in my hands, to beg him to tell me he was okay. Instead I struggled to keep up with Christopher, who raced ahead. Desperate, I squeezed Jared’s hand as I tugged him harder, hoping he would at least understand my worry. His touch remained unresponsive.

We slowed our pace as we rounded the corner and slinked around to the front of the buildings. “Just play it cool, Aly,” Christopher warned.

We hit the sidewalk, the dull streetlamps lighting our way as they blinked through the haze of the storm. Jared removed his hand from mine and dropped back two feet, and I walked hand in hand with Christopher, nestled up against his side with my head held low, as we approached the bar parking lot.

We’d come full circle.

Three cop cars sat in the middle of the lot. Red and blue lights flashed. No one even noticed us as we drew near. All attention seemed focused on the mayhem that was undoubtedly still taking place inside.