Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(90)

In close quarters, it was harder for Julian to dodge Garrett’s fists. Pain exploded across his cheek and eye, but he answered with a solid right that flattened Garrett’s nose. The big man grunted, gripped Julian by the front of his black hoodie and sent him flying down the hallway, toward a blond man who sat slumped against a storage room. Julian hit hard—the air knocked from chest and his head rapped the linoleum.

Garrett picked up the pool cue and snapped it half over his knee. “I’m going to f*ck you up, Milkman.” He brandished the two pieces, both splintered at the ends, and sauntered toward him.

“Get him out of here, Garrett!” Cliff cried. He limped down the hallway toward them. “The cops are here. Get him out, get him out!”

Garrett ignored him and swung at Julian with both splintered halves of the cue. Julian ducked and drove his shoulder into Garrett’s midsection. It was like trying to shove a mountain. The blows rained down on his back and head, and Julian was forced to let go. He staggered back and saw stars as the butt of the cue struck him across his temple. He reeled and went down again.

“Okay, okay, he’s beat, now get him out,” Cliff said. Someone was pounding on the club door. “Ah, Christ, I gotta deal with cops and I’m all f*cked up. And Jesse. What are we going to do with him? No, no, it’s over. I can’t. Garrett, we gotta go. We gotta go, now.”

Garrett watched Julian struggle to his feet, a slow, stupid smile spreading over his face. “Not yet, Cliff. Won’t take but a second. You got this coming, Milkman. You got it coming a long time.”

The pounding on the club door was louder now. “Police! Open up!”

“Garrett!” Cliff cried from the back exit. Julian was dimly aware the man had Natalie’s bag on his arm. Cliff waited half a second, spat a curse and ran out.

Garrett seemed not to have heard either him or the police. He banged the two broken cue pieces together. “You ready, Milkman?”

Julian took a rigid stance, searching frantically for a weapon. His eye caught the bright red of a fire extinguisher on the yellowed wall and then Garrett attacked. Julian dodged right, toward the extinguisher, and took both blows of the broken cue to the meat of his shoulder. He grunted and tore at the red canister. Garrett swung the cue across his midsection, stealing his air and bending him in half. The follow through was an upward blow that struck him under the chin. Julian staggered backward and fell onto the linoleum.

“You’re done, bitch.” Garrett charged.

Julian watched, his arms coming up to block though he knew he stood no chance. This guy was going to kill him and he’d never find Natalie, never tell her he was sorry or that he loved her more than his own life. He’d gladly give it for her now, he thought, except that David had her somewhere and Julian’s death simply meant her own.

The blond man—Jesse—who had appeared all but dead himself, grunted and there was a flurry of motion as he entangled his legs with Garrett’s. The big man went down. Hard. The splintered ends of the cue went under him.

Julian scrambled backward on his hands and heels, like a crab, and got to his feet. He watched with horrible fascination as Garrett sat up, the thinner half of the pool cue jutting from his gut. He stared at it for a moment, curious, then yanked it free and tossed it aside.

“Dios mio, man, go down.” Julian yanked the fire extinguisher off the wall and swung it at Garrett’s head. It made hollow clanging sound as it struck, and Garrett dropped bonelessly to the ground.

Julian stood over him, breathing heavily, bleeding profusely from his chin and temple. He tossed the extinguisher aside, disgusted.

“Land’s End,” Jesse wheezed. “David’s taken her to Land’s End.”

Julian stared at the man for or a second, realizing he’d already given up hope. “Land’s End,” he murmured. Down the hall, the club door was shaking on its hinges. He needed the police but he couldn’t afford to be slowed by them either. “Tell them,” he said.

Jesse nodded. “I will.”

Julian tore down the hallway to the back door of the club, half-expecting a squad of police to be waiting to stop him, to arrest him or detain him, but the parking lot was empty. He pulled up the hood of his black sweatshirt to conceal his bloodied face and forced himself to walk, hands jammed into his pockets, head down. He’d parked the rental car on the other side of the street in a red zone but no one had noticed. An ambulance pulled away from Orbit —with Marshall and Liberty in it, Julian thought—and more squad cars rolled in. Police officers questioned bystanders. No one paid Julian any mind.

He slipped into the rental and punched ‘Land’s End’ into the GPS. He spat a curse as it offered several options—three or four lookout places to park or hike.

Mama, Julian prayed, tearing the car down the darkened street, if you're watching over us, guide me to her. Before it’s too late. He’d felt no answer to his plea and desperately chose Eagle Point because—his stomach roiling with terror at the thought—it was close to a high cliff with rugged shoreline below. Anything. I’ll do anything. Let it be the right place. Let me reach her in time.

The Mercedes was fast. It took everything Julian had not to floor it, and when he hit the long straightaway of Geary Street, he did.





Chapter FortyThree


Natalie took the stairs slowly, both for fear of the final destination, and for the more banal reason: it was a dark, moonless night, and she didn’t want to turn an ankle. As if it still mattered. The stairs that zigzagged up and down the seaside park of Land’s End were notoriously steep. She’d hoped to hike them someday with Julian, to take in the breathtaking view of the Bay, walk the labyrinth of stones at Eagle Point, and watch the waves crash on Mile Rock Beach below. She’d have liked to do a lot of things with Julian, she thought; fill the years together. But that was not to be.