Jaden by Tijan

CHAPTER TWENTY

Corrigan only had to ask a few. I did a couple more jabs, but I went for shallow cuts. I hadn’t completely checked out. I was still sane. Really hurting him wouldn’t help us get any information, but he needed to think I would do it. So I let a part of myself out that would’ve hurt him, the old me. I had hurt people when I was younger. I’d been dumb, but it happened. That Sheldon got locked up after Marcus. I’d been scared of letting her out, but as I did just now, it felt good. It felt right.

Enough of her had to come out so that it was real. Michael had to sense it, that the threat was real, and a part of it was.

Michael denied stalking me. He denied killing Grace. He denied framing me, but when Corrigan demanded to know why he had those photos of me, Michael perked up. He was exhausted as he said, “That’s what this is about? Those photographs?”

Bryce made an exasperated sound behind him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah.” Corrigan shook his head. “We already told you that.”

Michael frowned, looking from Corrigan to me. “For real? It’s just about those pictures?”

“What else do they have on you?”

“Uh . . .”

I started forward with the knife, my hand raised.

He cried out, “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you everything. I swear. Just—stop with the knife. Stop it.”

I lowered it, but raised my eyebrows. “We’re waiting.”

“Okay. Yes. I’m trying not to pee my pants, anymore.” He let out a deep breath, blinking his eyes a few times, and took a second breath to calm his nerves. “All right. This is what I thought you guys had on me, but I couldn’t figure out why you were so mad.” He looked from Corrigan to me and tried to turn around to see Bryce, but couldn’t. He ended up staring upward at Corrigan, a defeated expression already on his face before he started. Then he began, “You know that I wanted to sell study enhancers to college students, right?”

Corrigan nodded, his eyes lidded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I know it’s stupid. A business owner shouldn’t partake in what they’re selling, but that’s why I wanted to sell it. Because I wanted it. I have a prescription pill problem. I’ll take almost anything you give me, but I like Xanax and Ambien the most.”

“What?”

He looked to me. “I’m a pill popper. That’s my secret.”

“You’re a what whatter?” I scratched at my ear.

“I’m addicted to pills, and I’m running out. I’ve been trying to figure out ways to make money so that was why I’ve been pushing the house to get into the drug business.”

Corrigan walked away from me, scratching his head, too. “What?”

Ditto. A pill popper had set me up?

Michael skirted back and forth between us. Every now and then, he’d try to look at Bryce, but he couldn’t so he went back to shifting between the two of us. He must’ve noticed my confusion because he paled, “Oh no. No, no, no. I’m telling you I was taking those pictures. I’m not your stalker. Well, I guess I kinda am, but not in the way you think.”

Corrigan’s hand dropped back to his side with a thud. He strode forward, his jaw clenched. He growled, “You better start making sense or I swear I’m taking that knife from Sheldon, and I’m not a hundred percent certain what I’m going to do with it. Start explaining everything.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Listen,” he implored us. “Yes, I took those photographs of Sheldon, but I was just like the paparazzi. That’s why they’re in the tabloids.”

He waited, glancing at us.

There was no reaction.

“Have you guys not seen the magazines? Well, I can’t blame you. All three of you guys are all over them, and Denton Steele. I wouldn’t want to read some of the stuff they’re saying about you guys either, if I were you.”

“Michael.” A warning growl from Corrigan.

“Yeah. Okay. Anyway, that’s it. Since Sheldon was arrested, she’s been the number one way for money. I figured a few pictures wouldn’t hurt, but I sold those and then realized how much money I could make. Sorry, Sheldon.” He lifted up one side of his mouth. “Nothing personal, and for what it’s worth, I never noticed anyone watching you. If I had, I would’ve told Corrigan. For sure.”

“But,” Bryce walked around to stand beside us. He folded his arms over his chest. “You have pics of her at places that no other paparazzi have. If you’re not her stalker, how do you explain knowing where she’s been when the others haven’t?”

“Oh.”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Uh.” He bit down on his lip. “Well.”

“Fucking tell us, Mike!” Corrigan burst out.

“Okay. Okay. Crap. Don’t kill me,” he said that last sentence to Corrigan. “I downloaded an app on your phone.”

Uh . . . my eyebrows bunched together. “You did what?”

He nodded at Corrigan. “There’s a GPS application on your phone. It sends me coordinates of where you are.”

“Are you kidding me?”

That came from me. Corrigan still hadn’t spoken. The longer he was quiet, the more I started thinking that I needed to take that knife away.

“No. Look. Pull your phone out.”

Corrigan didn’t move. He was still staring at his fraternity brother. No reaction. No emotion. I shared an alarmed look with Bryce and he nodded. He said quietly, “Where’s your phone, Cor? I’ll look.”

Corrigan never looked away from Michael, who had now tuned into the new danger he was in. Not from me. My urge to knife him left after that first time, but Corrigan had the knife. Michael started looking from Corrigan’s face, still an emotionless mask, to the knife. He wet his lips. “Um, Sheldon or Bryce. Can you guys—”

Corrigan burst forward and shoved him over. The chair fell backward. I cringed as Michael went down. His head was going to hit the floor, but it didn’t. I didn’t hear a thud. I moved over, just an inch so I could see what happened.

Corrigan was cradling the back of Michael’s head, but he had a knee pressing down on his chest. The knife was at his throat, and he growled, “You took my phone?”

“Yes,” Michael whispered. He let out a quaking breath.

My nose wrinkled. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had soiled himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know I violated your privacy, but . . .” He shook his head from side to side, then again. “I really am sorry. She’s your woman. When I downloaded it, I knew you’d be going to her. I did it quick, right when the news broke that she was arrested. You were downstairs watching the news. I knew you had left your phone in your room so I did it then. You never knew. I was worried. I thought you’d find it, but you never did.”

He had betrayed Corrigan. That was why he was mad, not about the phone. Michael saw a way to make money, and he used him. It was plain and simple. It was also the worst way to violate another brother’s trust.

Michael was going to be shunned from the fraternity. I knew it then, and as it occurred to me, Michael’s eyes got even wider. “No. Please don’t, Corrigan. I love those guys. They’re my brothers.”

It had occurred to him, too.

Corrigan was silent.

Michael started babbling, begging him not to exile him from the house. All of it landed on deaf ears.

Bryce moved forward, reached down, and pulled Corrigan’s phone from his pocket. A moment later, he asked, “It’s not called Stalker’s GPS, is it?”

“Um.” Michael was still staring up at Corrigan. Agony and desperation filtered in. He cleared his throat and croaked out, “It is. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Are you serious?”

Bryce handed me the phone as he strode forward. I watched, pocketing Corrigan’s phone. He was still immobile, sitting on Michael’s chest with the knife to his throat. Bryce stopped next to him and murmured, “Corrigan. Let him up.”

He didn’t move.

Michael was trembling underneath him, his eyes imploring him, but he didn’t dare talk. Corrigan’s hold was firm on the knife—that’s when I got it. Corrigan was like me. I wasn’t nervous. He hadn’t been nervous with me either. Because we each knew the other’s limits. Corrigan wasn’t really going to slice his throat open, but he had no qualm about making him think that. He wasn’t going to let him go without a scratch either. The threat of violence from Corrigan was real. He had it in him to do something horrible, like me, like how I had embedded the knife into Michael’s thigh. It wasn’t lethal, but it wasn’t a paper cut. It would be felt for a long time, reminding him of what he’d done, who he’d hurt.

I didn’t know what Corrigan would’ve done to Michael. I knew he wouldn’t have killed him, but that was the beauty of him. He wouldn’t have done something like I had. A part of me wondered what it would’ve been, but Bryce cleared his throat again and Michael started crying.

The moment was gone.

Corrigan had to let him up. When Bryce touched his shoulder, he did just that, standing up and turning toward me. His gaze was hooded; he was even keeping me out and that hurt. I swallowed the pang, though.

He stopped in front of me. “Where’s my phone?”

I dug it out of my pocket and held it out to him.

He took it without a word and brushed past me for the door.

I turned around. “Don’t delete it.”

He stopped at the door, his back to me.

I added, “There might be some way of using it somehow. Don’t delete it yet.”

He nodded and left.

I turned back around. Bryce had helped Michael back up and untied him. I went over to him and tilted my head to the side. Both guys looked up, but Bryce went back to letting Ritt loose.

“Tit for tat, Ritt,” I said. “You narc on us, we’ll narc on you. And trust me, we’ll make it sound worse than anything you can cook up in that fried mind. Got it?”

He nodded wearily. “He’s going to kick me out of the fraternity.”

“You used him.”

Bryce paused and lifted his head. His eyes rested on me, and I felt like he was hearing something in my voice, seeing something through my wall I didn’t realize was coming out. I flushed, but then hardened my jaw. I didn’t care at that moment. All I cared about was Corrigan.

I added, “You used him, and you betrayed his trust. You abused your friendship, your brotherhood. You should be thankful that’sallthat’s happening to you.”

We left him there with the instructions to leave the warehouse and lock it behind him. He was instructed to sit and wait. Bryce called a cab for him as we left the parking lot. After he hung up, he glanced at Corrigan. “He’s got some major injuries. You don’t think he’ll say anything?”

Corrigan’s eyes were narrowed. “No, I don’t think he’ll say a word, not if he’s smart, not if he wants something worse done to him.”

Bryce met my gaze in the reflective mirror. Corrigan had been outside when I said those words. The fact they were almost the same, word for word, wasn’t lost on me. Like I realized, Corrigan and I were alike.

We understood each other.

I turned away and felt a slice of pain through my chest. Something else had happened in that warehouse. I had realized how Bryce and I were not alike anymore, and the distance between us felt like an ocean now.

It was almost too wide to overcome.

“Okay,” Bryce announced, turning the car to the right on the highway.

Denton’s house was to the left.

Before we could ask where we were going, Bryce held a hand up. “Ritt was a dead end, but we need to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” Celebrate what?

He said to me, “Ritt’s not your stalker. That’s one celebration, and the other is that you’re no longer a suspect. We should’ve celebrated last week, but we didn’t. We’re doing it now. I don’t care what happens. We’re drinking. We’re laughing. We’re taking a fucking break from this world right now.”

There was a moment of silence, then I said, “Thank god. I need a break.”

Corrigan grinned, and some of my tension eased at that.

Bryce was a genius, although this time away presented some problems of its own. Like the fact that it was only Bryce, Corrigan, and me. I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling somersaults.

The love triangle just got real.

*

Bryce took us to a biker dive bar on the edge of the city. A line of motorcycles littered the front of it, and when we got inside, it was mostly bikers.

Corrigan said it perfectly, “Well. Being recognized isn’t a worry I have for us here.”

Bryce laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on.” He wound his way through the room to a table in the back section. When we went past the pool tables, I saw there were others there. They weren’t wearing the leather jackets like the rest of the bikers and were wearing jeans and sweatshirts like us. Sliding onto my chair, I could only stare at those people.

“What’s up?” Corrigan noticed my reaction.

“I’m not a biker.” I gestured around the bar. “I should be worried being in a place like this, but I’m not.” I paused, wondering if that was true. “Yep. Nothing. I don’t feel a thing. We have the best weapon in the world.”

Both Bryce and Corrigan were grinning. They knew what I was going to say.

I said it anyway. “The media. One call and thirty news stations will swarm this place. Nothing’s scarier than a camera light in your face and a nosy reporter sticking her mic where it’s not welcomed.”

“Hey, folks.” A waitress came over. She was tiny, her blond hair pulled into two side braids, and she was a burst of fresh air. Her face was heavily made up with blue eye shadow, black lipstick, and glitter on her cheeks. She wore a black tank top with the cleavage area ripped to show more boobage. Her eyes caught and held on Bryce.

I waited for the recognition, then a look of horror would come to me.

Nothing happened. She gave him a slow seductive smile instead.

Corrigan started laughing.

I was grinning, too.

“Shut up, you guys.” Bryce ducked his head down, but he was grinning, too.

“Oh-kay.” The waitress glanced around the table. “Can I get you three a drink?”

Corrigan slammed down a fifty-dollar bill. “Bring as many pitchers of beer that will pay for.”

“All right, indeedy.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “And keep ten of it for a tip.”

She winked at him, her voice growing warmer. “I can see who my favorite customers are going to be tonight.” Tucking the money between her fingers, she winked back at him. “Be back soon, freshlings.”

When she was gone, I smirked. “Freshlings?”

“Watch it. That’s the best come-on line I’ve heard in a while.”

Bryce shook his head, listening to my exchange with Corrigan. He groaned. “You guys, no matter what happens, I love you guys.”

I sighed. “Well, there went the light-heartedness.”

“Yeah.” Corrigan glared at Bryce, but there was no heat to it. “Thanks for bringing us back to the depths of hell.”

Bryce rolled his eyes. “I love you, guys. I wanted to state it. No matter what happens.” His gaze lingered on me. I felt a different message hidden there, something he meant only for me to understand. But I didn’t. I didn’t even want to try to dissect it. It was then when the waitress came back with two pitchers and three cups.

She never asked for our ID, and before she left, she said, “I’ve got three more pitchers coming for you guys.”

“Five pitchers?”

She smiled sweetly at Bryce. “It would’ve been six, but your boy gave me the extra for a tip. Lucky for you guys, or maybe not so lucky, it’s happy hour in here.”

Well. In that case. I slapped down another fifty. “Bring us the entire appetizer list.”

“Will do.” She seemed to reassess us. “Are you guys celebrating something? You didn’t just get out of prison, did you?” She glanced around. “Not that would be a problem. Most these guys have spent time inside. You know what? Forget I asked. I’ll be back in a few with that food, sweetums.”

Corrigan and Bryce were both grinning widely. I shook my head. “Shut up.”

“You’re sweetums.” Corrigan pointed between Bryce and himself. “We’re the freshlings. I think we have our new code names.”

“Okay.” After the beer was poured, Bryce lifted his cup in the air. “Come on.” Corrigan and I mirrored him, our cups right alongside his and then he started, his voice rough, “This is before all the bullshit. Erase what happened to Grace. Erase Sheldon getting arrested. Erase Corrigan in the hospital. Erase Sheldon being pushed into that glass table. Erase her house vandalism. Erase everything. Marcus. Bailey’s and Leisha’s deaths. Erase all that glorious sex we had.” He flashed me a wicked grin. I felt myself grinning back. “Erase Guadalupe. Erase the distance that happened between us in Europe.” His eyes lingered on Corrigan. “Erase that we both fell in love with the same woman.”

Corrigan opened his mouth.

Bryce shook his head. “I know you’ve not technically said it, but you do. We all know it. But erase that. Strip all the bullshit away. Let’s go back to the beginning. When I was a silent badass.”

Just then the door opened again, and Bryce Scout strolled in to take a seat at my table. The quintessential gorgeous bad boy: black Mohawk, sea blue eyes, and cheekbones that couldn’t compare to how the rest of his body was chiseled. Corrigan talked, and Bryce listened.

The memory had me smiling, then I remembered another time.

I felt Bryce move around the corner. No sound. No reaction. Nothing, but I just felt him. I looked over my shoulder and stared into his cold eyes.

Denton didn’t notice him right away and murmured, “I was wondering if I could offer my condolences right now? Maybe in a bed this time?”

Bryce jerked awake and strode to us.

Denton looked up, startled, and was quickly pushed out the door. Bryce slammed the door shut and locked it.

He stood and breathed. His chest jerked up and down with each raging breath and then he hauled me against him and slammed his mouth down on mine. He ground into me, and I whimpered once as pain and lust slammed full force into me.

“When Corrigan only cared about getting laid.”

“I was hoping you’d go.”

“Why? Want to get laid?”

I laughed to myself. He was always hitting on me, even though I had been Bryce’s girl. So much had changed since then. A second memory came to me.

“He’s got a super-fine sister coming to town. I want Shel, since she’s hot and heavy with Mr. Sexiest Man Alive to seduce his sister around to our social crowd.”

“Seduce?” I grinned. “I don’t do girl-on-girl.”

Bryce chuckled as a bright smile lit Corrigan’s face.

“That’d be perfect! You can do that, too.” Like it hadn’t already been his secret hope.

“When Sheldon was telling me to sleep with other girls because she couldn’t handle being in an exclusive relationship with me.”

I groaned. “I liked this speech until that part.”

“You’ve got this cool arrogance that makes them flock to you. It’s interesting, though, because everyone in this room knows that the one girl you love, you can’t get.”Miss Connors had said those words to Bryce about me. It hadn’t been true. He had me; I just had been too scared to let him know back then.

“But go back there. It was simple then.” The slight humor was gone. I was rememberingback thena bit differently, but Bryce had done what he said. Everything was stripped away. It was just the three of us. Again. Like always. Feeling the threat of tears, I swallowed that emotion and cleared my throat.

“Bryce.” I wiped at my eye. “I thought this wasbreaktime. Where’s the break?”

“I know.” His own emotion was there. We all heard it as his voice grew thick. “But I wanted to take us back there when the three of us were strong. No one messed with us. We had each other’s backs. I mean, shit, do you guys remember how many people tried to mess with us? We just cut them off. We didn’t even put up with their drama. That was us. You guys were my family back then.”

“He’s so pale,” I murmured.

“He’ll pull through. He woke up a little while ago.”

“He did?”

“He’s fighting.” Bryce bent and kissed my forehead. “That’s what we do.”

I closed my eyes as the memory ripped through me. Corrigan had been stabbed, and we were in the hospital. It was right after we had killed Marcus. A wave of nostalgia crushed me, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment, my chest was being squeezed closed.

“Why are you saying this stuff, Bryce?”

I looked over at Corrigan. His hand was gripping his cup tightly. His face was an unreadable mask, but I had a feeling he was going through the same torment as I was.

Bryce sighed. It was so soft. “I want to get back there. When I start training again, I’m going to go and do that world, but I’ll miss you guys. Corrigan, you’ll go back to your fraternity and you’ll kick ass. Sheldon, you’ll,” he quieted, seeing my tears. He choked out hoarsely, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I ignored the tears and reached for my cup. “What tears? There are no tears.” One dripped off my chin to my hand. I ignored it and raised an eyebrow. “I say we put off the future and just be here tonight. Let’s get rip-roaring drunk, but let’s all promise each other one thing about tonight.”

I held my cup in the middle of the air again. I was calling for one more salute, and then the emotional talk was done. I couldn’t handle any more.

Corrigan and Bryce held theirs up, touching mine. They were waiting. I was going to say something meaningful, deeply profound.

Then I grinned. “Can we all promise that none of us ends up marrying a biker from in here?”

Relieved grins appeared, and they saluted me with their drinks.

“Will do.”

Bryce laughed. “No bikers allowed.”

“And on that note, here are your appetizers, sweetums.” The waitress arrived with a tray. Another girl was with her. After they put all the plates on the table and collected the empty pitcher, we heard from behind us, “Well. Hell. My boys told me some rich pricks were here. They ordered all this booze and food right away. I was coming over to either warn you off or hustle you myself, but damn.”

We turned around and saw a blast from our past. Hoodum stood grinning, shaking his head, as he took us all in. Wearing a black leather jacket and pants that rode low on his hips, Hoodum was grinning from ear to ear.

He’d always been Corrigan’s local criminal friend. He had helped us a couple times; the last time was when he installed my security system. Even though that had only been months ago, there was something different about him.

No.

I got it then as he clasped Corrigan in a hug, then patted Bryce’s shoulder. He even gave me a hug before he pulled up a stool and signaled for a couple of his friends to come over, introducing them to Corrigan and Bryce.

As everyone was shaking hands, I knew this was the right place to be. Hoodum hadn’t changed. We had. Bryce, Corrigan, and I. Somehow, through everything, the three of us had evolved. I had no idea into what, but it felt right. It had gotten us over our slump, whatever it had been, and it was like old times. Bryce, Corrigan, and I were the old trio. We were the same idiots who had been handcuffed together as part of an assignment from our school counselor.

We were that again.

I met Bryce’s gaze, and I nodded, trying to say thank you. He nodded back, and then I shut it off—all the seriousness, the bittersweet memories flooding in, the fear that I’d lose this family again. It was all shut off. As Corrigan and Hoodum started telling us a story, where Corrigan tried stealing one of his cars before he realized it was Hoodum’s, I grabbed my beer and reached for a wing.

I had no idea how it happened, what exactly had happened, but I wasn’t so scared.

We were going to be fine.

I felt it in my gut.