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“A friend of mine who goes to school there.”
Before I can respond, Brady comes around me. “You son of a bitch!” Brady shoves Tug backward. His back hits the counter. “How could you?”
Tug looks at me with a frown. “I love her, too.”
“Fuck! I gotta get the hell out of here.”
I practically hang off Brady’s arm, begging for him to stop. “Not when you’re upset. Let’s talk about this.”
“Talk?” he scoffs, pulling his arm from my grip. I sag to the floor on my knees. “Oh! Now you want to talk?”
I see Tug out of the corner of my eye. He starts to walk toward me. I’m relieved when he stops. The last thing I want is the two of them to end up beating the shit out of each other.
“Please, Brady.” I’m desperate for him to stay. “That’s not fair.”
“You’re right. You ripped my fucking heart out.” He won’t look at me. “Life’s not fair, Sunshine. I know this better than anyone.” He walks over to the door and holds it open.
I rock on my knees. My body is near convulsions, knowing this may be our last insurmountable hurdle. I stand up, ready to beg him to stay and talk, not to leave me.
“I think you should leave.” He looks at Tug, and then at me. “Both of you.
“What?” I’m so confused, and now I’m scared. Where will I go? I need my things. Andrew?
“You heard me.” The calm in his voice alarms me. There’s no emotion in it. I’d rather have him sound angry. At least then I’d know he cares. “I said, get out.”
Tug removes his keys from the counter and shoulders past Brady. I’m still shocked and starring at Brady when I hear Tug’s car leave.
“Tori, you need to leave.”
As I reach for my purse, my mind falters, deciding where to go for a hotel and who to call. “Okay. I’ll go,” I say, walking toward the door with my head down.
Andrew storms into the room.
“No, don’t leave.” He grabs hold of my leg. “You promised you’ve never leave.”
Brady bends down, attempting to pry him from my leg. “It’s okay, Andrew.”
“No, it’s not. You’re making her leave. I hate you.” Andrew releases my leg and shoots past Brady. He’s out the door before either one of us can react. Brady turns to go after him, chasing him down the driveway. I stand at the door, watching as Brady gets closer to catching him. The shadows shift as light filters through the trees. I look to the left as the headlights draw closer. Brady’s voice echoes my own as we scream out for Andrew to stop. The tires screech as the car takes the bend. It’s driving too fast. In slow motion, I watch the car come down the hill. The tires screech again as the driver catches sight of Andrew darting into the street. Brady comes to an abrupt halt. Together we watch Andrews’s tiny body launch up into the air before slamming into the front window of the car. He’s propelled forward and rolls off the front of the car into the brush across the street. I slide on my flip-flops and run for him, screaming hysterically. Brady rounds the front of the car and rips the driver from the front seat. I hear him screaming about speeding before he’s landing his fist repeatedly in the guy’s face. I can’t stop it because I have to get to Andrew. I kneel next to him. He’s not moving. I can’t tell if he’s breathing. I’m afraid to touch him, but all I want to do is hold him. A car suddenly pulls up next to us. I watch as Tug leaps from his Porsche and heads for Brady. He rips Brady off the guy. Brady’s fury turns on Tug, and he goes to swing at him. Tug ducks and tackles Brady around the waist. They fall to the ground. I hear Tug telling him to stop, to go to Andrew. Brady runs for us, drops to his knees, and reaches for Andrew.
“We shouldn’t move him.”
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” His voice is full of malice. He must have considered what I said, though, because he doesn’t attempt to move Andrew. He brushes some hair from his eyes. His fingers press into Andrew’s neck. His shoulders relax. “He has a pulse.”
I hear sirens in the distance and look up to see flashing lights closing in on us. They’re on us seconds later. The paramedics shout at us in Spanish to back away. I can’t stand, but I move over in the grass. They lay out a stretcher next to Andrew before securing his neck in a brace. They carefully lift him onto the stretcher. That’s when I see the dark puddle of liquid on the ground. It’s huge. He’s lost a lot of blood.
I jump to my feet, following the stretcher to the ambulance. They lift Andrew inside. Brady steps up and climbs in next to him. I’m lifting my foot to the step, reaching for the handle to hoist myself up, when Brady’s stern voice stops me.
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“You don’t need to come.”
I step down as tears fill my eyes, and I watch as they close the doors and drive away. My eyes travel over the shards of broken glass that litter the ground at my feet. Images of Andrew slamming into the window flash through my mind. I fall to my knees as guilt and grief take over every inch of me. Splinters of broken glass bite into my knees. I welcome the pain. I need it.
Tug’s hand on my shoulder startles me. I turn my head and notice that the man who was driving the car is in the back of a police car.
“What’s going on?”
“The guy’s two sheets to the wind.”
