Chasing Bliss (28 page)

Cyrus came down the stairs with Khalid right behind him, holding his hurt shoulder.

“I’m checkin’ the office, and then we’re out. Do a quick search and meet me in the alley.”

“Done,” J.T. said. He turned on his heel and started scanning for Corey.

Chase went as unobtrusively as he could to the office. There was no sign of Corey. He exited
the club through the door by the kitchen and came out by his bike. Chase heard the blow even
before it connected, and he almost turned into it. Something really hard caught him in the side of
the head. He staggered and went down to his left knee, fighting the urge to hold his head in his
hands. Chase’s hand went instinctively to his razor and flicked it open. The small noise was loud
in the relative quiet of the alley.

“Quick! Put his head out!” someone whispered furiously.

Two of them?
Chase staggered back to his feet and whirled around, not caring if he fell or not, but
buying time for him to get his other razor out.

Someone grabbed him in a bear hug—a big dude—pinning his arms down.

What the fuck are they doing? They should have just shot me. It woulda worked out better for them than
this is going to,
Chase thought of his attackers. He grinned—hell, he
laughed
—and slammed his foot
into big boy’s unsuspecting knee.

The huge man brayed in pain as his knee extended far beyond a healthy range of motion. This
caused him to relax his grip, but he still had Chase across the chest.

Chase brought his own arms up, his hands holding the razors with their blades pointed outward.
In one swift motion, he brought his arms down forcefully and dug them deep into big boy’s
wrists.

Blood flew everywhere as the big boy screamed in pain and surprise, “He cut my fuckin’ wrists!
You crazy bastard!”

Chase pushed himself away from him and pivoted to reverse his position. He brought his blade
up and caught him in the soft, vulnerable meat just under the shelf of his jaw. Chase drove the
blade an inch into the flesh and dragged it down brutally through his jugular. When the man’s
dying heart spurted the blood through the hole in his neck in great, gruesome bursts, Chase spun
away, missing the worst of the shower as the big man thudded to the pavement.

His partner was shaken, standing there with his mouth hanging open and his gun shaking in his
hand.

Chase was vaguely aware that he was grinning like a lunatic. He advanced on the dead man’s
friend with a razor in each hand. The temporary survivor shook the willies enough to fire his gun,
but his aim was shaky, and Chase was already ducking. The bullet ricocheted off the brick wall
behind them, and Chase felt a distant hot pain in the back of his left calf. Chase popped back up
in front of him like a spring-loaded psychopath. His left hand plunged the razor into the man’s
belly and drew it across his body as his right hand slashed his throat. Again Chase twisted out
of the spray, but he stumbled and fell in the process. He tried to get to his feet quickly, but the
world twirled around him, violently, and spun away. Chase dropped to one knee again and put his
throbbing head in his hands.

After a couple of seconds, he managed to make it to his feet, but he teetered and stumbled
dangerously to his right, slamming into the side of his bike and knocking it over off its kickstand.
His equilibrium was all fucked up. Something dripped into his eye, and he wiped it away with
the heel of his hand. It took him almost a full minute to realize that it wasn’t sweat, but blood:
his
blood.

His vision began doubling up.
Oh shit! I’m hurt!
He was pissed, because getting hurt was usually
reserved for his adversaries.
What’d that nigga hit me with?
Chase crouched against the wall and made
himself a smaller target. He looked over at the last guy he’d greased. His intestines were hanging
out of his body like some kind of jam-covered party streamers. He saw the gory scene clearly, but
when he blinked and looked again, the image doubled, and he knew he was in trouble.

Two blurry sets of legs turned into the alley, and Chase put his hand on Cyrus’s gun. If it was
somebody looking for trouble, they might find it, even if it was in the form of a blast instead of a
razor strike.

“Smoke? You out here?”

Relief washed over Chase when he recognized his little brother’s voice. He was glad Corey and
J.T. were there, but he was even gladder to know that Corey was okay.

“Corey…” he said. It came out in a whisper that he was sure they couldn’t hear.

J.T. stepped over the guy whose guts were hanging out. “Look at
this
shit. He’s gotta be here
somewhere. Walk careful. Try not to step in the blood, Corey.”

“Where you want me to walk, Cyrus? On the fuckin’ wall like Spiderman?”

Chase pushed himself to his feet and they stopped talking, drawing their hands reflexively to
their weapons. “It’s…it’s me,” Chase squeezed out between the waves of pain in his head. “It’s
Chase. I’m…I’m here.”

The two hurried over to him. Corey looked very worried, and J.T. wasn’t exactly the picture
of calm. Instinctively, they moved to carry him out, each of them taking one of his arms over his
shoulder.

“Wait a minute,” Chase said, before he paused and tried to gather his thoughts. They seemed to
be doubling over like his vision. “Where’s your car, J.T.?”

“I didn’t bring it. I rode with Corey. Where are you hurt, Chase?”

Chase reflexively shook his head and was instantly sorry he’d made the simple gesture because
Corey and J.T. became four people, then six. His head throbbed, and his knees turned to water.
“My head. He hit me in my head. J.T., you gotta take my bike. Get it out of the alley. Corey, you
drive.” He hoped he was making sense, but his tongue felt thick. “Take me home. I gotta go.”

“Screw home. I’m takin’ you to the hospital,” J.T. said, flatly.

“No!” Chase said, having a hard time pulling his tongue down from the roof of his mouth.
Shit! Am I dying?
If he was, he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. “Home,” he said again, and then
everything went black.

Chapter 16

W
hen Chase failed to call Bliss by eleven thirty, she put her clothes back on and headed to
his place. She’d called his cell so many times that his voicemail was full, even though
she was sure he’d turned his phone off. Bliss
never
got Chase’s voicemail more than once, and he
usually called her right back. She was so worried about him that she couldn’t be still. When she
got to his place, she let herself into his loft with her key and sat at the breakfast bar, watching the
elevator, but she didn’t have enough patience to do that for long.

She got up and went to the bedroom. The shirt he’d been wearing earlier was still on the bed.
Bliss took her own blouse off and put on Chase’s shirt. It smelled like him, and she inhaled deeply
as she closed her eyes and pulled the collar up. Bliss had only known Chase for three months, but
he’d already left an indelible mark on her heart. She loved him strong and hard, and if he left her,
it would be the end of her.

She climbed into his bed with her clothes—and some of his—on. She put her head on his pillow
and pulled the covers up. Silent tears ran down her face.
Where is he? Why won’t he call me back?
She
curled into a ball and started praying for him—praying for
them
.

She was starting to drift off when she heard the garage door going up, and Bliss was on her feet
at once. She ran into the next room and stood by the breakfast bar with her heart slamming in her
chest.

The garage door went back down right away, but it took the elevator so long to get upstairs that
she was about to press the button to go down herself, just when the door slid open. Bliss was totally
unprepared for what lay behind those doors. It pushed the breath out of her body and made her so
lightheaded that she thought she might pass out. She backed up with her hands over her mouth to
hold the scream in.

Corey and J.T. had Chase between them, his arms over their shoulders and hanging back limply.
Their arms were under his knees, holding him off the floor in a sitting position. It was obvious he
couldn’t walk. His head was lolled back so far that she could clearly see the scar under his jaw, and
his face was turned away. He was unconscious, too, but the worst part was all the blood.

Most of it was dry, a putrid rusty brown color, but some of it was still bright red and moist. It
was like some abstract painter had a bucket of it, dipped his brush, and just started splashing Chase
like a goddamned canvas. It looked like he’d been
wrestling
in it. It was on his shirt, his pants, his
gloves…even grimed into the bottoms of his goddamned sneakers! There were chains hanging off
his jeans that hadn’t been there earlier, and Bliss wondered briefly what they were.

Bliss, J.T., and Corey stared at each other silently for a moment before Corey said, “Uh…” for
lack of anything else to say. It wasn’t the best thing to utter, but it broke everyone’s paralysis.

J.T. actually smiled at Bliss. “I’m not gonna fill your head up with bullshit, Bliss. Could you
step aside, please, and let us put him in his room? Once we put him down, I’ll come back and talk
to you. You got my word on that, girl.”

Bliss nodded with her hands still over her mouth.

J.T. smiled again. “Maybe you can make us some coffee? I got a feeling we’ll be up all night.”

Bliss nodded and stared at Chase as they brought him past her, with Corey avoiding her eyes.
He had blood in his hair and down the left side of his face. His eyes were slightly open, revealing
the crisp, whiskey-colored irises. The one on the right was surrounded by white, but the one on the
left was completely bloodshot. Bliss gasped involuntarily as she watched them take her lover into
the bedroom.
What happened to him
? It was obvious he’d been hit in the head, but all that blood!
Was he shot? Is all that blood even his? It can’t be! Oh my God…is he…dead? Damn close to it? Who did
this to my Chase?
The questions raged on in her head, but she knew it would be a minute before
she got any answers. She sat on the sectional and put her face in her hands for a moment to calm
herself. She went back to what she’d been doing earlier: praying for him—praying and trying to
tamp down her anger. She was angry at him for going to that stupid opening in the first place and
for getting hurt like she was afraid he would. She was angry at J.T. and Corey for bringing him
home instead of taking him to a hospital, where he so obviously belonged. She stood up, so scared
and angry she couldn’t stop shaking.
Fuck sitting here, and fuck getting coffee like a good little woman!
I’m going back there to see what the hell’s going on, and I am calling a fucking ambulance.

“Take care of his clothes, Corey…and run a bath. I’ll be right back,” J.T. said, stepping out of
the room just as Bliss was going in. He gave her a charming smile and slipped an arm around her
shoulders, efficiently turning her in the other direction. Bliss tried to look over her shoulder into
the bedroom, but J.T. kept her moving and seated her at the breakfast bar. He leaned on it and
looked her in the eye. “You okay?”

She wanted to hit him.
What the hell kind of question is that?
She was shaken up, and she stood up
to tell him so. “What do you think, J.T.? What happened to Chase? Why isn’t he in the hospital?
Why did you bring him back here and leave him in his room with Dr. Corey?”

J.T. laughed and started making coffee. “Dr. Corey? That’s funny,” he said, shaking his head.

Bliss came around the counter at him. “That’s
not
funny, J.T. He could be in there dying! He’s
got a goddamned head wound! What are you and Corey, stupid? You’re not supposed to be moving
someone with a head wound around like that!” She stomped her foot and pushed him. “You get
your ass in there and take him to the hospital.
Right now, J.T.!
” she screamed at him.

J.T. looked at her calmly. “Sit down, Bliss. If you calm down, I’ll talk to you, but otherwise,
I’m not saying a word. I’ve been aggravated enough for one evening.” He stared at her until
she complied, even though she did it with major attitude. J.T. sat beside her and looked at her
sympathetically. “I know you’re upset, Bliss, but we’ve got a situation here. Before he passed out,
Chase told us to take him home, so that’s what we did.” He paused. “I think it makes sense.”

Bliss frowned. “What are you not telling me, J.T.?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Tonight was a bad night. Wolf sent his boys to Cyrus’s club to take us
out, and we didn’t let them.”

Bliss rolled her eyes at him as she put the coffee on. “Looks like they almost took Chase out.
Where were you and Corey when they did this to him?”

“We were handling our business, Bliss, and Chase was handling his. I can guarantee you that
blow to his head was a rare and extremely lucky thing for them.” J.T. was looking at her steadily,
but Bliss was still frowning.

“What are those chains on his jeans?”

J.T. frowned and smiled at the same time. “What chains, Bliss?”

Bliss turned her head and looked at him sideways. “Okay, J.T. I guess it would be stupid of me
to assume all that blood is his, right?”

J.T. shrugged and eyed her gently. “I don’t know, Bliss”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Bliss wasn’t stupid. There
was
one thing she could
give all of them credit for, especially Chase. She could not remember any lies. She took a deep
breath and stood up, letting it out slowly, and tears filled her eyes. “Oh,” she said quietly.

J.T. was watching her like she might flip out any minute. “It is what it is, Bliss. Looks like
you’ve got to make a decision.”

Bliss caught a flashback of Chase looking down at her and asking—no,
daring
her—to jump of
the cliff with him. She smiled through her tears and shook her head. “There’s no decision to make,
J.T. If I left him, I’d die…and so would he.
I can’t
. That’s out of the question.” She folded her arms
across her chest and sighed shakily. “How bad is it? Did he hurt somebody tonight?”

J.T. shrugged again. “I have no idea. We weren’t together all night, and at one point I got a little
busy.”

She nodded. It was very close to what she’d figured he’d say, and she looked at him knowingly.
“You’re not gonna give him up, are you? Even to me?”

He smiled at her. “Never in this lifetime, Bliss. He’s been my best friend since we were eight
years old.”

Bliss was touched, but there was a lot of shit going on. “I can understand and respect that, J.T.
Let me ask you a question you
can
answer. Did
you
hurt anybody tonight?”

J.T. laughed and shook his head. “Don’t, Bliss. You know I’m gonna plead the Fifth on that
one.”

“What are you guys, gangsters?”

He laughed again and went to the coffeemaker. “Nope. We’re just businessmen. Cyrus though?
Maybe.”

Bliss frowned. “Where
is
Cyrus?”

J.T. shrugged his broad shoulders again. “Don’t know, don’t care. I’m sure we’ll be hearing
from his stupid ass shortly though.”

Bliss sat back down. “This is all his fault, isn’t it?”

J.T. nodded. “Yes, yes it is.”

“I think I hate him.”

He laughed and poured coffee. “Join the club, darlin’. We all hate Cyrus—well, everybody
except for Corey.”

As if he’d heard his name, Corey came out of the bedroom carrying a package tightly wrapped
in duct tape under his arm. “I got everything, J.T. He’s ready for the tub.”

J.T. stood up. “Did he wake up?”

Corey shook his head, looking worried. “Kinda, but not really. He sort of opened his eyes and
was movin’ around a little, but he went right back out.”

Bliss raised an eyebrow. Those fools could sit here fucking around if they wanted to, but she
wasn’t about to have Chase lying there with no help.
Fuck them and whatever they had to say about it.
She went to her bag and took out her cell phone.

Corey came across the room real fast, holding his hand out to stop her. “Whoa! Whoa, Mama!
Who you callin’? Put the phone down, Bliss.”