tyler
“How’s it going with Tiff?” I asked Kyle. He hadn’t said much about his relationship with her, but then, he never talked much about anything.
“Good.”
“That’s good.” While the one word answer was expected, I’d still hoped for more.
“You know her and me, so you can imagine how it is sometimes.”
Tiff had a straight-to-the-point attitude and Kyle had a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude, so I could only imagine. “All I want to know is if you guys are in a good place now?”
“We are working on it. I’m tainted by my past, as you know, and so is she. So, we’re taking it slow.”
He’d had one hell of a past. Losing the love of your life to a stray bullet had to be the worst nightmare of any man on earth. Tiff had been used by assholes who’d left her with scars no one could see.
“Okay, well, I’ll take that as you guys are healthy.”
He nodded, then frowned when he noticed my car. “You’ve got to get yourself a new car, man. This isn’t you.”
“It’s Bekky’s car, that’s why.”
“How many boxes are we going to fit in there?”
“No damn clue, but as much as we can. As long as the doors close.”
“Are you taking all the vodka and tequila home?” I nodded. “For fuck sake, Tyler. There’s enough here to last years.”
I couldn’t tell if he was mad, worried, or thrilled we were going to have enough to “last years.” Keeping the excess seemed logical. If I needed a bottle, or if a friend needed one, we wouldn’t have to worry about driving to the liquor store, I’d have it handled for a while.
“That’s the plan, it’ll go directly into my man cave.” My man cave!
Kyle kept quiet, but I could see in his eyes that he couldn’t believe I would keep all of this to myself. The quantity wasn’t much for a night club, but for an individual, it was enough to end up an alcoholic and in pretty bad shape. My liver wouldn’t survive such a fight.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” I had no intention of drinking any more alcohol than I did now.
“You better be, or I’ll kick your ass. So, where and why are you keeping all of this?” He chuckled. “Last time I was at your place, you had no ‘man cave’.”
“The booze is already paid for so, why not? Besides, this way I’ve got bottles on the side for my friends, too.”
“Awesome, we’ll all sit in a circle and talk about our drinking problems together.”
Kyle had a pessimistic view on life; I doubted we would end up alcoholics.
“It looks worse in all these boxes. Trust me, there isn’t all that much here. Also, I’m planning to throw a party at home soon, so that’ll lower my stock a bit.”
“You know what you’re doing.”
Of course, I know. “When we bought the house, there was a large bookshelf with glass doors in the basement. It didn’t fit with the new decor, so, I moved it to my designated area of the basement—my man cave—and made a few adjustments to transform it into a secure bottle rack.”
“Sweet.”
We loaded the car with boxes until only the front seats were empty. Kyle was right, this was too much to bring home for personal consumption.
Oh, well, perhaps my generosity with family and friends will take care of some the surplus. Or I might stack the boxes in the garage... Why hadn’t I thought about this before now? Seemed I had way more shit to think about in dealing with the closing.
The Sullivans had been seen around the club; I’d been warned by the Seattle PD. Even after they’d destroyed my car and we’d pressed charges, it hadn’t made any difference to them. They didn’t scare. Their possible presence was one more reason to hurry and grab what we wanted before it got dark. They wouldn’t act crazy out in broad daylight, where anyone might witness, right? At least that’s what I was counting on. Not that I was scared of them, but trouble was better far away. These days, it seemed like trouble was always around the corner. They wanted to run their business in my club, but it had to stop. The stress was becoming hard to live with. I had no fucking idea if they’d behave or not, but they’d made it clear—they wanted me off their map, or in bad shape. One or the other. Anything as long as they gained control over the club.
Kyle passed me the last box and headed back, meanwhile I wedged it into an extra space we’d spotted then locked up the car. Inside, Levi and Miles were trying to set up space for us to eat when the girls got back, which I couldn’t wait for. My stomach growled thinking about the damn burgers. They were far too addicting and delicious. I didn’t care what Bekka got me, all I wanted was to eat junk food. Lots of it.
Screeching tires made me look toward the restaurant across the street, where the girls were, and deep down, I knew my time had come. My body stiffened expecting the worst.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Daylight or not, they were coming after me regardless. Maybe I should have run, but something told me they would catch me. Why? Because I refused to sell drugs to my customers. What was so wrong with that? I had no idea why their hatred toward me had escalated to this point. I’d never been in a situation like this. These people were crazy, psychotic even.
In a three week span, two women and one man had been found unconscious in my club. I’d handled each situation the best way I could, but how many more “situations” could I deal with, without getting in trouble? How was that good for them, my reputation, or my club? No good could come from this for anyone. The Sullys coming in incognito and selling their crap or spiking the drinks of my clientele wasn’t acceptable, in any way. I refused to put more people at risk, which is why I’d closed the club for good. What would have been next? Rape? Death? Hell, no. Not on my property. Not on my watch. I was ending this.
The rusty black truck was coming at me fast.
At full speed in the parking lot, the driver didn’t seem to have full control of the vehicle. It slipped and slid, lurching forward. Of course, he wasn’t going to drive like a retiree going to church on a Sunday morning, but he was careless, and I knew I was going to get hurt or die. Nothing had ever been this clear; I could see it and feel it.
By some miracle the truck came to a stop a few feet away from me, and three young men got out wearing black clothes and hats. They couldn’t have been even twenty years old. So young, and so not ready for what they planned to do. What they’d been told to do. I was outnumbered, but they didn’t seem to care about me at all. In fact, they ignored me. Well, two of them did. That they had a job to do was clear.
“What is it this time? What the fuck do you guys want?” I shouted at the lone man who walked toward me. In my head, I was searching for a way to put him down, the second and third men, too. I’d not fought much in my life but had trained with Kyle a handful of times, and he was an amazing kickboxing teacher.
While starting to figure out how to defend myself, the man came to a stop before me and removed a gun from the belt of his pants. Shit!
“Are you going to shoot me with this many witnesses?”
The anxiety in his face became obvious, my question had jilted him, but instead of backing away, he stepped closer and pushed the gun to my forehead. I sure as hell was about to pass out. If the situation weren’t scary enough, my eyes cut from the gun toward the restaurant, where I saw the girls outside. There was no question in my mind they were going to witness my murder.
“Get back inside. Now,” I cried out before being hit hard, whether by his fist or the butt of the gun, I didn’t know. My eyes were focused on the girls when he smashed me.
Falling to my knees, I was held at gunpoint when my vision came back, the silencer pressed against my forehead. A rush of adrenaline ran through my veins and at the same time I was paralyzed with fear. There wasn’t much I could do with a gun pressed on my head. Through my blurry vision, the other two men grew lighter as they set fire to two Molotov cocktails then threw them through the front window and door of the club.
I had never felt so powerless in my life, and rage raised high in me. My friends were in there and our girls were too close to danger.
With Levi, Kyle, and Miles inside, and the fire spreading quickly, the panic in me reached maximum intensity. The back door had been blocked to limit ways for the Sullivans to get in. Which meant my friends had no easy way out, other than to come through the broken glass and flames at the front.
“What do you want from me?” I asked again, trying to make some connection with my nervous captor. The arm holding the gun was shaking, and as our eyes met, I realized I’d seen him in the club. We’d even spoken together and had a conversation. “Wait, I know you. How can you kill me? Can’t you see I’m not the bad guy?” Part of me hoped he wouldn’t be able to shoot me if I kept talking. “You’re so young, why would you choose to be a killer over a productive member of society? We all have bad days where we fuck up, man, but I’ve never killed or hurt anyone, apart from myself, because of them.”
“Shut up, man. I’m following orders.”
“Orders? You mean doing someone else’s dirty work? Killing someone, facing jail, is that the type of life you can want?”
“Tyler! Tyler!”
Bekky was screaming my name, and I risked looking away from the gun to her. Tiff held her back as our eyes locked. Melody came to mind and I thought I was going to break down. “You can still change your mind.” Swallowing thickly, I begged him, “It’s too late for your bosses, but not you. Come on, man.”
He looked at me again, eye-to-eye, and barked, “I said shut up,” before slamming my face with the gun again.
Blood splattered on the ground around me. This time hurt more than the last. And while my head ached, my heart hurt harder hearing Bekka’s screams. Her cries pierced louder than the two gun shots which followed.
“Fuck!” I bit my lip not wanting to scream further obscenities at the man even though I hurt like a motherfucker. He’d shot me in the leg, twice, but I wouldn’t die from it. The next shot might not be such a lucky one.
I was curled on the ground, trying to assess my wounds, when the tires of the truck came so close to my face I thought they were going to end me, but no, they sped away. When the truck was gone from view, I tried getting up. “Call the cops, call 911!”
Somehow, I got up. For now I wasn’t feeling too much pain, or my legs at all, and I needed to get inside the burning club. My friends were in there, I couldn’t let them die. Hell fucking no.
“Tyler,” Bekky was screaming my name again. “Don’t move. The paramedics are coming.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to anyone and everyone, I didn’t know, just that I was sorry for all of this as I rushed the door as fast as I could considering my injuries. The flames were already licking at the roof, taking over the place, and my club no longer looked the same. Time was a luxury I didn’t have.
“Levi! Kyle, Miles… where are you guys?” My voice cracked with exertion and didn’t come out strong at all, so I doubted they’d heard me.
I searched on the floor and behind the bar, but I couldn’t see anyone. The air was thick with smoke which burned my throat and made it impossible not to cough. They knew the place well, as good as I did, so I prayed they’d been able to unblock the back door and get out. I prayed again and again.
My legs were starting to hurt, and the more I coughed, the more my throat burned. The searing pain in my leg drove me toward the bathrooms, where I drank water from the sink to ease my throat. My coughing got worse as dizziness started to take over. Vomiting on the bathroom floor meant my time inside of the club had to come to an end fast. Before I could no longer breathe, I needed to get out, so, I tried walking. My endurance for pain had reached its limit, though.
Fuck, being weak now is going to get me and my friends killed.
Dropping to my knees, I tried to stay low and started half crawling, half dragging myself along the floor. Reaching the back room, I grabbed the computer with the camera’s recordings on it.
I’ll get the fuckers even if I’m dead.
My body was barely cooperating now. Calling for help would’ve been good, but I didn’t have the strength to.
“TYLER!” Levi yelled my name. The idiot was still inside, and I laughed, which led to another round of coughing. He had more chances of hearing my atrocious coughing than my voice anyway.
“H–Here.”
“Jesus, Tyler.”
The floor vibrated under his weight, and I knew he was nearby, so I gave in. It had become so hot in here, it was suffocating.
“We’ll take it from here, sir. Go outside now.”
Then, like a leaf in the wind, my body was transported outside as if I weighed nothing. My heart fought to keep beating while my brain tried hard not to lose control. Bekky. She was all I thought about, her and Melody, and the laptop in my hands. I wasn’t letting go of it. It contained footage from tonight and so much more. Call me crazy, but I knew I needed it—even if I’d put my life in bigger danger, I had to take it with me.
Once I was out, everything felt numb, like I was disconnected from my own body. As if it wasn’t mine anymore. It was so hard to breathe, but my lungs were fighting for oxygen.
The first face I recognized was Levi’s, and I let him take the laptop from my hands while he assured me, “Don’t worry, brother, you’ll be okay.”
Kyle and Miles came into view next; Miles had blood on his face. He was hurt because of me.
“Sorry.” All this is my fault. “Bek?” I choked out.
“She’s okay, Tyler.” Kyle’s eyes were filled with pain and haunted memories as he leaned over me.
“I’m sorry, Kyle.”
The guys were told to sit by as emergency workers put me on a stretcher and slid an oxygen mask over my nose. My friends, my brothers, had all made it out alive. If I died tonight, at least I knew my friends were safe, but for Bekka and Melody, I would fight. I’d made them a promise I intended to keep.
And then, I lost consciousness.