Into the Deep 01 (23 page)

“Ditto, baby.” He took a pull of his beer, his affection focused on me. “This is it from now on. You and me. Sure you can handle that?”

“Well, it’ll be a hardship, but what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger,” I teased.

“Hardship, my ass.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into his body, grinning wickedly down at me.

“Oh, people I know!”

We turned as Lois McKinley zeroed in on us from across the porch, her beer spilling as she dragged her best friend Deke over to us. Lois was the editor of the school paper (and sick of hearing Lois Lane jokes) and Deke was her computer-geek sidekick.

“Hey, guys,” I eyed Deke. “Not working at Hub’s tonight?”

He shook his head,. “I swapped shifts. It’s not every day you get invited to a party at Alex Roster’s house.”

Settling back against Jake, I nodded. “It does seem like the boy went all out inviting everyone.”

“Alex is cool,” Lois shrugged. “He’s not like Brett and the others, you know, picking and choosing who’s worthy enough to talk to.” This was said with a slight hint of bitterness and resentment, something I understood since Brett and his idiot friends ragged on Lois on a weekly basis. She was short and somewhat voluptuous and showcased her curves in vintage fifties clothing. Her dark hair was always styled like a pinup girl’s and she was never without bright red lipstick. I thought she was awesome, but some people just didn’t get that Lois had a style and didn’t care if you approved of it.

I grunted. “Alex’s mom is going to freak if she comes home to find out about this party.”

We stood chatting for a while, me with my back against Jake’s chest, his chin in my hair as we drank and relaxed with Deke and Lois. Deke was quiet but he was also smart and quick-witted and really fun to hang out with.

It was only about an hour later when Lois’s phone rang. After watching Lois groan and whine for about five minutes in the corner, she finally got off the phone and grumbled that her mom had been called into work at the hospital and she needed Lois to return home to watch her younger brother. Deke was Lois’s ride, so to our disappointment, the two of them left.

“They’re cool.” I turned around to face Jake once they were gone. “We should hang out with them more.”

“Then we will.” He gave my waist a squeeze. “Want another beer?”

“Sure.”

Jake kissed my nose before taking my empty and disappearing back into the house. He wasn’t gone but a few minutes when a drunk Lacey wandered out onto the porch, clearly looking for me. I braced myself.

“Charley,” she weaved a little as she approached. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“I’m so, so sorry, Charley.” She tripped a little and I had to steady her. “I’ve been such a bitch.”

I didn’t disagree.

“I want to make it up to you. Will you let me?” She leaned in too close and I could smell the apple sours on her breath.

“Lacey, how much have you had to drink?”

She put her finger and thumb together and scrunched up her face. “Just a little.”

“I’m thinking you’ve had more than just a little. Come on, let’s get you water.”

Her tight grip on my wrist stunned me. “No,” she said vehemently, her smile wobbly. “Just stay and chat.”

I narrowed my eyes on her as I peeled her fingers off me. “I think water would be better.”

“No!” she cried, trying to pull on me again. “Stay.”

Suddenly, the blood was rushing in my ears as my heart started to race. “What … are you stalling me?”

At her wide, blinking eyes and guilty expression, a sense of disquiet drifted over me.

Jake.

“Fuck,” I breathed and pushed past her, shoving my way through bodies as I hurried toward the kitchen. The pounding in my chest only grew harder and faster when I saw a commotion around the French doors at the back of the kitchen. People were gawking outside, questioning what the hell was going on.

I bulldozed them, ignoring the yelps and complaints as I forced my way through and outside. The porch wrapped around the entire house and I had to push past the people standing on it, drinking and staring excitedly down on the backyard. As soon as I got past them, I could see why. The Rosters’ backyard was split into three parts. At the bottom was a fountain and pond, reached by a pebbled pathway in the middle of landscaping. At the top, the porch steps led onto a wooden patio with a large family patio dining set on the right and a monster grill on the left. Standing near the grill, Jake had his back to me and swaying in front of him was Brett. Damien, Jackson, and a couple of their teammates stood behind Brett, and Alex was nowhere to be found. I could feel the hostility building between Brett and Jake from up on the steps.

My gut churned with unease as I hurried down toward Jake. Brett’s eyes flicked to me, his lip curled in a sneer, and Jake looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “Charley, stay back,” he warned, holding a hand up to me.

Something in his voice caught me and I stopped. Returning my gaze to Brett, I saw the light from the house glint off the object in his hand. “Brett, what are you doing?” I whispered, horrified.

He had a large kitchen knife.

“He’s not going to do anything, Charley, he’s just talking with your boy,” Damien assured me with an arrogant smirk.

Brett laughed and stumbled with the movement.

I edged a little closer to Jake whose whole body was tense, ready to move if Brett got it into his dumb head to actually use his weapon. “I think he’s a little too drunk to be handling a blade,” I snapped at Damien. “Take it off him.”

“Don’t,” Brett waved the knife in my direction and Jake moved, blocking me from his view. “Don’t talk like I’m not fuckin’ here. Shurrup. This is between me and your boy.”

“What the hell is going on?” Alex pounded down the porch steps behind me, two of the seniors at his back. He stopped abruptly at my side when he saw Brett was waving a knife, his cheeks paling. “Brett, what are you doing? You’re shitfaced. Give me the knife and stop being an idiot.”

Brett’s already rosy cheeks darkened. “I’m the idjit?” He took a step toward Jake, concentrating so that he didn’t sway this time. “I’m not the one who let thish fucker take my girl. He … he and his family’sh not welcome. Need to know it.” He swung his arm at Jake and I lunged forward only to be hauled back by Alex.

My heart was in my throat as Jake jerked to the left, narrowly missing the knife edge. He backed up a few paces, his hands help up in placation. “Come on, Brett, you’re wasted, man. You don’t want to do this. Put the knife down.” His words were calm, coaxing, but I could see the anger burning in his gaze.

“Pfft.” Brett faltered again, his left arm spreading out for balance as his right one still pointed the kitchen knife at Jake. “You dessherve a cuttin’. Fucked nearly all the girlsh at thish party. Now you’re fuckin’ a prime piece like Charley. Not right. She ain’t yoursh. This town ain’t yoursh. Don’t want fuckin’ Caplinshes in our town. We’ll get you out.” He grinned, an uncontrolled leer. “Then I’ll get your girl on her back and show her how real men fuck.”

Alex’s fingers bit into my arms at Brett’s crude taunt. The anger I felt brewing from him was unfortunately already at the boiling point for Jake. I shook my head, not wanting to distract him by speaking, but willing him to remain calm, to not let Brett rile him.

Even in his drunken stupor, Brett caught the rage in Jake’s face. He laughed. “Yeah, that cut deep, knowing ash shoon ash you’re gone, I’m puttin’ my dick in that—”

“Brett, shut the fuck up!” Alex shouted, pushing me behind him as he took a furious step toward his friend.

“—and she’ll love every minute.” Brett ignored Alex and finished off by springing at Jake again, his right arm swinging upward as he tried to slash him from stomach to chest.

I whimpered, every part of me desperate to stop him but knowing anything I did might make it worse.

Jake slid back on the balls of his feet, dodging the cut, and then he moved too fast for a drunk Brett to compute. He tripped to the side away from Jake, shaking his head, and I watched the muscles bunch in his shoulders with anger as he stupidly and devoid of coordination swung around and ran at Jake. Jake sidestepped him again, making sure he was moving away from Damien and Brett’s other idiots.

Brett couldn’t slow his momentum.

He fell over his own feet, crashing awkwardly onto the patio floor, face planting against it.

Everyone was silent as we waited tensely for his next move.

But he didn’t move. Instead he elicited this strange, muffled whine.

I knew the moment we all realized something was wrong. I felt the shift in the air, the breathless waiting.

“Brett,” Damien said, laughing hollowly, “come on, man, get up.” He strode over to him and bent down, gently pushing Brett over.

People cried out behind me and I heard the guys cursing. Brett stared up at Damien, fear in his eyes, and then he dropped his gaze to the knife lodged in his ribs. “Get it out, man,” he cried hoarsely, tears in his voice, his trembling hands reaching for the blade.

“No!” I shouted, rushing toward him. “Don’t let him pull it ou—”

But it was too late.

Brett yanked out the blade and blood soaked his shirt.

I fell to my knees beside him, ripping off my light jacket and bundling it into a ball I pressed against his wound. He gave a pained grunt but I held it there, keeping pressure on it. Shaking, I shot a command at a pale, trembling Damien. “Call 911!”

He didn’t move, frozen with shock.

I glanced back over my shoulder at Alex who stared down at his friend in horrified disbelief. My eyes flicked to Jake whose hands were in his hair, desolation written all over him. “Jake, call 911!”

He looked like he wanted to puke but he pulled himself together enough to take out his cell.

“Char …”

I turned back to look down at Brett, his terrified eyes on mine, tears sliding down his cheeks. Swallowing hard, I forced my voice to stay calm. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

Warmth touched my fingertips and my attention fell on my jacket. The blood was soaking through it, the bitter tang of copper making me breathless. His body began to shudder hard beneath my touch and he coughed, little flecks of blood spraying out from between his lips.

“No,” I whispered, panicked adrenaline tightening my chest. Not only was he going into shock but I had the dire suspicion that he’d punctured a lung. “Guys, he’s going into shock.” Looking up at his friends I told them fiercely, “We can’t let him. We need to keep him warm. We need blankets. Give me your jackets now.”

His friends fumbled with their clothes as Jake murmured that the ambulance was on its way.

I heard Alex tell me he’d find blankets. I heard crying and gasps and questions and fear and horror settle in behind me. I ignored it, bowing my head toward Brett, feeling helpless as he shuddered and choked, his eyes begging for help.

The guys tucked their jackets around Brett and Jackson pulled off his T-shirt and handed it to me. I balled it up and quickly replaced my soaked jacket.

Although it tore me up inside to meet Brett’s gaze, I had to. He pleaded with me.
Pleaded
.

“We’ll get you taken care of Brett. Okay, we’ll get you fixed up.” On my peripheral I saw Damien tuck his jacket around Brett’s sides. “Yeah,” I whispered numbly. “Keep him warm.”

Suddenly Brett’s choked sounds drew quieter to a wheeze. Then to a stutter.

“No,” I shook my head, applying more pressure, “Brett, stay with me. The ambulance is almost here, buddy.”

His eyes were wide as they stared into mine and I knew that no matter what I said, he just couldn’t hold on. The shuddering faltered …

His body relaxed.

His breath … stopped.

The panic was gone from his eyes.

In its place was nothing.

“I’ve got the blankets!” Alex shouted, his footsteps smacking against the wood as he hurried toward us.

I fell back on my heels, my blood-soaked hands unsteady. I felt like I was in a nightmare. The darkness pressed down on me as I turned to look up at Alex.

His mouth fell open at my expression, his eyes darting to his friend, before coming back to me, questioning me through a shimmer of tears.

I shook my head, the tears blurring my vision. “He’s gone.”

“Will you tell him I’m asking for him?”

Mrs. C. nodded at me, her expression sympathetic. “I will, Charley.”

Feeling as though I was wading through water thick with mud, I walked back to my car. For a moment I stared up at the Caplin house, hoping that the front door would open and Jake would come out before I pulled away.

The engine of the car purred to life.

No Jake.

My reverse lights came on.

Still no Jake.

The car backed up onto the street.

Not even a twitch of a curtain.

Feeling sick, I pulled away, noting the police car sitting just around the corner. Was that for the Caplins? Worry bit at me the entire drive home, and when I eventually pulled my mom’s car into the drive, I couldn’t remember how I got there.

Two nights ago, on an ordinary Friday night, at an ordinary high school party, Brett Thomas lost his life. My classmate. A sixteen-year-old kid. He bled out under my hands from a self-inflicted knife wound that punctured his lung. He might have survived long enough for the ambulance to make it if his body hadn’t gone into shock.