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“You left the house with her handcuffed?” Jason asks in horror. “Dude, anything could have happened.”
“Anythingdidhappen!” Trip yells. “What the fuck were you thinking, Grant?”
“He wasn’t thinking at all,” Jason hisses. Hands sweep over me gently before pausing near my shoulder. In a softer voice Jason adds, “Dollie, you have a bullet wound along your shoulder and it’s bleeding profusely. We need to go get you helpnow.”
“Has anyone called the cops yet?” Grant asks, his voice moving closer to me. My hands drop away from my face in horror,
“No! Please, no, don’t call them.” I meet Grant’s eyes to see them swimming with confusion.
“I was going to, but this is the response I’ve been getting,” Trip says.
“Why shouldn’t we call them?” Grant asks me. “Do you know who this is?”
I shouldn’t tell them. What I did to Joey is a secret I swore I would take to my grave. But I just had one foot in it and if I don’t tell the guys something, they’ll call the cops. My stomach knots painfully as I realize that they could call the cops even with the information I give them. They could turn me in. It would be the right thing to do on their part. With tears still streaming down my face, I look down into my hands before whispering,
“If you call the cops, he’ll tell them that I killed his brother.”
Jason grunts in surprise before asking, “Why would he say that?”
“Because I did… kind of.”
The tension in the room becomes almost palpable. Someone sucks in a sharp breath. Before I can chicken out, I tell them everything. From pulling up to Pianna’s house, hitting Joey with the baseball bat, trying to flee only for him to shoot at us while he stood in the way of us leaving, to the horrible feeling of hitting his body with my car and then dumping him at his house. I finish up by telling them about Joey taking his life, the recording, and Danny’s need for revenge.
When I’m done, the room remains quiet except for my constant sniffling and broken sobs. I can’t look anyone in the eye. The only safe place to look seems to be my bare lap. There’s blood splattered all over my thighs. I don’t know if it’s mine or Danny’s. The sight of it makes me nauseous. Without thinking, I try to wipe the blood away. Stupidly, I try to use my bad hand. I hiss in pain and bring my hand up to my chest.
“Hey, look at me.” Jason’s voice is soft but demanding. I do as I’m told. When I meet his gaze, I don’t recognize the emotions staring back at me. “Thank you for telling us this.”
I shake my head, ready to drop my head again, but Jason’s finger rests just under my chin and tilts my head back up. “I’m serious. You were incredibly brave both then and now. You’re a victim, not the bad guy.”
I don’t know if hitting someone with my car and moving their body to another location makes me a victim, but I don’t point this out.
Grant clears his throat. “We have to move. You’re in pain, and there’s a man on the floor who can wake up at any minute. Something has to be done quickly.”
Something, as in: let the authorities handle this mess. It would be the smart thing to do. Judging by their silent hesitation, I can tell they’re thinking along the same lines. This isn’t their problem. They have other things to worry about. With a gulp, I decide to make the decision for them.
“Just do it…” I murmur, my chin hitting my chest. “Just call the police and they’ll take care of everything.”
In my peripheral vision, I watch as Grant’s feet move closer to me as Jason stands. I look up and watch Jason push Grant away.
“Get the fuck away from her,” he hisses as Grant’s brows raise up. Jason’s finger pokes Grant’s chest. “I think you’ve done enough this morning.I’lltake her to the hospital.”
Grant scowls but concedes with a nod. He moves away, over to the dresser, and grabs someone’s pajama pants from a drawer. He tosses them to Jason who catches and helps me put them on. When I’m on my feet, Grant moves closer to me. His hand reaches for my good one, but I can’t let him touch me. Not after what just happened. He put me in danger. I don’t care if it was knowingly or not. It’s common sense not to leave someone handcuffed to a bed and take off. I yank my hand away, staring at him in disbelief. Something akin to pain flickers across his face.
“Dollface, I—”
Jason steps in front of him and scoops me up into his arms. “Later.”
The movement and his hold cause the pain in my body to intensify. I sob as I tense up.
“I got you,” Jason promises, pulling me closer to his chest.
Trip hurries out in front of us and heads to the bathroom. He comes out as Jason carries me past it and places a folded up hand towel on the bullet wound.
“Keep pressure on that. You’re bleeding a lot.” Trip glances at Jason. “Do you want me to come with?”
Jason shakes his head and keeps moving through the apartment. “No, I got this.”
With his assurance, Trip nods and moves out of the way. Carefully, I rest my injured cheek on his chest. On our way out, he grabs a hoodie off the hooks by the door and my purse.
