Watch Me Fall (Ross Siblings, #5)(82)
“Yeah, that’s a big heaping pile of bullshit. As far as I know, Starla and Brian have never happened, even back in the day when there was a chance. I think he would have told me.”
“Right.”
“Ready to call it a night?”
“Yeah. Might as well.” There was nothing else to do. But Ghost only looked at him for a minute, then sighed and reached for the cell phone in the front pocket of the black hoodie he’d donned as the night wore on.
“One last shot,” he said, thumb-tapping and swiping his way to a contact. “If this is a bust, we go home.”
Hope flared anew in Jared’s chest, and he held on to it despite the doubts trying to crowd it out. “Sounds good.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Jared had thought Starla’s phone conversation that first night he’d picked her up had been the weirdest thing he’d ever heard. Ghost’s was in an entirely different league. “Holy shit, you answered. I didn’t have to come kick down your door… Yeah, I’m good. Hey, have you seen Max around lately? … No. Max… M-A-X, motherf*cker, damn…” As the other person seemed to catch on and respond, Ghost shot up straight in his seat. Jared felt hope flare from a spark to a bonfire. “I need him, yeah. No, don’t tell him… Are you deaf? Don’t say shit. I want two ounces of blow. That oughta wake him up… What, for two ounces of blow? Fuck that. Yeah, yeah, later.” He hung up. “Got him.”
Jared put his excitement on hold to make one cautious inquiry. “Do you do drugs?”
“I’m straight as an arrow. Macy would hang my ass out. You should know that. Anyway, that was Gus. He said he just saw Max passed out at—get this—Swat’s. You were right, man. He’s next door to you right now. He doesn’t know Starla’s with you, does he?”
The hope burned to ashes and alarm took its place—damn, he knew he shouldn’t have left her alone. He’d felt weird about it at the time, but now— “I don’t know what he knows, but what are the odds? Just get there.”
Ghost tore through town and down the highway toward Old Harris Road, eating up the miles at a rate that would get them pulled over if they met a cop. Jared didn’t care. He would gladly pay the ticket if it came to that. Grabbing for his phone, he blindly dialed Starla’s number before remembering she hadn’t come to bed with her phone. So he dialed his own house number, knowing she probably wouldn’t want to answer it. Maybe realizing he was gone and she was by herself, she would be curious enough to check the ID.
It was okay, he told himself. He’d set the security system. If it had tripped, he would have gotten an alert on his phone. She was safe, but even so, the need to hear her voice— After what must have been twenty rings, her sleepy, cautious greeting came over the line.
“Baby, are you okay?” He didn’t even think about Ghost overhearing the endearment.
“Um, yeah, sleeping. Where are you?”
“I’m taking care of something. Don’t worry about it. The security system is on, so you’ll know if anyone tries to get in, but…stay away from the windows.” He didn’t want to alarm her, but he was failing miserably at that. “I want you to write down these numbers.” He didn’t much care who was listening then either as he rattled them off. He could always change it later. “That’s the combination.”
She didn’t need to ask what it was for. “Jared! You’re freaking me the f*ck out.”
I’m freaked the f*ck out. He’d felt like the house was being watched but had chalked it up to paranoia, and maybe it was. Maybe it was only a coincidence. But he couldn’t help wondering how many nights Max had been next door, through the trees and across a narrow gully, especially since Ghost claimed this Swat guy wasn’t a close friend of his. Regardless, he tried to reassure her again, then hung up. Imagining her there, alone, scared…
He wanted to hit something. Hard. Stupid, stupid.
“Hey,” Ghost said, seeming strangely in tune with his agitation. “She’s fine. Don’t bust a vein.”
“I want to bust his f*cking head open.”
“Don’t forget I have my reasons too. I’m with ya. But we have to be calm.”
Impossible. Pure violence thrummed under his skin. Maybe he could restrain himself from pounding the f*cker into the ground, yeah, but calm wasn’t on the table.
It seemed to take forever to get there, but with Ghost driving, it was only a few minutes. He ground to a halt in front of Jared’s neighbor’s house, behind one of several other cars parked haphazardly in the yard. Great. There would be an audience.
“I don’t see his Mustang,” Ghost said, sounding as if he were chewing on the words. “Son of a bitch.”
“What, do you think Gus was lying?”
“No, I think Max is hiding it.” Which would mean their theory was correct. Of course the guy would lay low somewhere no one expected to find him. Shit! He should have insisted they check here from the beginning. He could have checked here himself, since he drove past the place at least twice a day. Jared wondered if he needed to give Ghost the same talk he’d received himself moments ago.
Despite neighboring it for years, Jared had only been on the property twice before. Once when he pulled in and yelled at them to turn their damn music down, and again when he rescued Starla’s purse. Ghost, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to knock on the front door, instead barging in with Jared on his heels. Inside was a den of stale cigarette smoke and the reek of even staler beer—and perhaps a few other fumes he didn’t care to identify.