Jake
Jake pulled into Ashley’s driveway. He didn’t normally drive with a buzz, but he let it fade quite a bit before getting in the car. And they only had to go two miles on a deserted back street. “What’re you going to tell Mike about the car?”
“I’m just going to tell him I was too drunk to drive.”
“Is that better? I mean, it’s one-thirty in the morning and some guy is dropping you off all drunk.”
“What options are there? He’s going to know I’m drunk.”
“You could tell him the car broke down.”
She shrugged. “Why lie? Nah, if he can’t take the truth, screw him. At this point it doesn’t even matter anyway. I’m just going to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms.”
“Okay. It’s your call.”
“What about you?”
Jake frowned. “What about me?”
“You okay?
“I’m fine.”
“I’m worried about you driving that far.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because someone fired a gun at us and whoever did that might come back.”
“Yeah, they might.” Jake didn’t want to show he was worried. But it had just occurred to him he doesn’t even have a gun anymore.
“Maybe you should stay here tonight. You can sleep downstairs.”
Jake didn’t want to accept the offer. He didn’t need the drama of Mike starting something. “I don’t know, that’s not really necessary. I’m not that buzzed anymore.”
“It may not be necessary, but it’s smart.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do.” She reached over, grabbed the keys in the ignition, turned the car off, and got out. “Now you’ve got no choice.”
Jake sighed as he watched her head up the driveway with his keys. She turned back, jingled them, and said, “C’mon, Jake, you’re not sleeping in the car.”
He reluctantly got out and caught up with her by the front door. “Mike’s not going to like this.”
“I don’t care.”
He stopped her at the door. “I do. I don’t want to get into the middle of anything with you two.”
“You won’t.” She poked her key into the lock. “He’s not confrontational in front of other people. Besides, there’s nothing left to get in the middle of.”
“If you say so.”
“He’s a pussy. He knows I’d kick his ass if he started some shit.” She opened the door and they went inside.
Jake had been in this house before but it looked so much nicer than he recalled. The kitchen was large, and granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances dominated the space. “The place looks good.”
“It had better. We spent over twenty thousand redoing the kitchen alone.”
“Whoa.” They moved into the living room, which was equally impressive with its expensive hardwood floors and marble fireplace.
“Impressive, huh?”
“I guess I forgot how much money Mike makes.”
“Oh, he makes a ton. I don’t have to work if I don’t want to. He wants me to stay home and have babies.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It’s not.”
She led him through the living room, toward some French doors that led to the patio. The guest room was to the right. She opened the door. “It’s all yours. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I thought you wanted to sleep in the guest room?”
“There’s another three bedrooms upstairs. I’ll sleep on the futon in the study.”
He walked past her, and she hugged him. It was a strange hug. It was not a friendly hug. It was more. It lingered. It was tight, close.
With his words unfit for release, he managed to squeak out, “Thanks Ash, for everything.”
She whispered softly. “What’re friends for?”
“I feel like you’ve gone above and beyond.”
They were cheek-to-cheek, and he felt the heat of her exhale. For a moment, he was back in time to that night, that one amazing moment that he wasted, that one moment of regret that he never thought he’d get another chance at. He desperately wanted to kiss her. Their lips were only an inch away, he felt the gooseflesh on her arm, he could taste her breath but she pulled away ever so slowly. Their lips did not meet.
“Sleep well.”
He sucked a deep breath. “Goodnight.”
She closed the door and he settled on top of the blankets, only kicking off his sneakers. He still had a slight buzz from the alcohol and he felt the spin when on his back. He probably shouldn’t even have driven. He was not drunk by any stretch, but he could have waited another hour to sober up a bit more. The fact he did not eat anything probably didn’t help.
He heard some hushed voices filtering down to his room, probably through the air ducts, one of which sat right above his head. He tried not to listen but couldn’t really help it. Not all the words were clear but the gist of the conversation, as expected, was about Ashley being out so late, coming home drunk, and bringing a sad sack friend home with her. He wondered if they would even sleep in the same bed and when he heard two doors slam, he had his answer.
Jake closed his eyes and waited for some sleep to come. It always came easy but staying asleep was another problem. He’d usually wake up in two hours with his brain unable to shut down enough to fall back to sleep. So, when he fell asleep he wasn’t surprised. He was even less surprised when he woke up two hours later and couldn’t fall back to sleep.
Lying there thinking of everything and nothing at the same time was exhausting. Usually he would fall back to sleep after about an hour or so, but tonight felt like one of those nights that would be a struggle. The unfamiliar sounds of the house weren’t helping. Strange creaks and pops were keeping him awake. Maybe the fact someone had shot a gun at him was keeping him extra vigilant, which was why he sat straight up in the bed when he heard the next noise.
Searching for his sneakers with his feet on the floor, he got up and slid his toes into the well-worn shoes. Padding softly, he went to the bedroom door and listened again just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.
The sound of breaking glass is very distinct. And although it was very faint, he swore he’d heard it. Now something more ominous was prevalent, the soft sound of slow steps on a wood floor. The creaks and shuffle were almost imperceptible, and would have been had he not been awake already. At first thought, he figured it was Mike or Ashley, but something inside him knew better. His intuition felt abuzz with needles.
This was getting ridiculous. If someone was trying to rub him out, he wasn’t going quietly. That irony was not escaping him. Just a few days ago, he was ready to kill himself, now he was ready to fight for his life.
But it wasn’t just his life in danger now, he’d put Ashley and Mike in danger too. Whoever was creeping through their house was probably just as likely to kill them. He had to do something.
A quick look around the room didn’t really reveal anything in terms of weaponry. The only thing that looked decent was a large umbrella. He silently slid the black and red rain shield out of the wicker basket near the television stand and gripped it tightly.
He wished he knew the house better, to know where the walker was in relation to this door. Busting out too soon would likely lead to his demise, too late would ruin his chances to get a good shot. The only thing he had on his side was the element of surprise because an umbrella wasn’t really going to cut it against a gun.
Jake could hear his pulse coursing through his ears with each frantic heartbeat. With a deep breath, he twisted the door handle achingly slow and held it while listening. He kept his breath pent up in his lungs, and when he heard the next pop of the floor, he yanked the door open.
Ready to swing on anyone near him, there was nothing there. That’s when he realized the noise was above his head. He swore under his breath and moved slowly toward the steps.
Trying to split the difference between silence and speed, Jake moved across the floor, exhaling when he got to the tile. He started up the stairs, stopping on every riser to listen to the sounds. It was quiet.
Onto the next step, he crept upwards and then the rustling, thump, scrape, scream, and the gunshots all smashed together in a string of sound.
Jake broke into a full-blown sprint up the steps, taking them two at a time. A few steps down the hall and he was right in the room. He slammed his body into the dark figure as another gunshot popped, lighting up the black room.
The man he’d hit was bigger, he smelled of musk and cigarettes. Jake took him down but bounced off when they hit the floor. Ashley’s voice filled the darkness and her shadowy figure cast into the swatch of light that spilled into the room from the streetlights.
Jake saw the gun in the man’s hand and went after it, trying to get some control on where the next shot might go. He yanked it hard, and much to his surprise, the man let go, causing him to scramble for his balance. He fell to his knees as the man punched him in the face. The assailant then threw Ashley across the room. She slammed hard into the heavy dresser and slid down to the floor. Jake fumbled for the handle on the gun but it fell to the floor. He reached down to grab it. The man crushed his hand with a stomping foot. Jake yelled in pain but spun away with a roll. He got to one knee but the man was gone.
Jake got up and was going to chase but stopped short; instead he went to Ashley to see if she was okay. “Ashley?” She was unresponsive other than a moan.
He stood upright and went after the attacker, gun in hand. Down the stairs, he trampled with thunderous noise, but his heart eclipsed it all. He got outside, hot on the heels of the figure, but the man was already across the grass and into the door of the blue sedan.
Jake got to the car just as the engine fired up and tore away from the curb. He had no recourse to stop it. He wanted to fire the gun but thought better of that, as there were too many houses around and a stray shot could be deadly. He watched helplessly as the car disappeared into the night with no lights on.
He stood there, unable to make a decision on what to do. As he turned to head back across the lawn, the sirens wailed in the near distance. Someone must have called about the shots. He jogged across the yard toward the front door, but the cop car was there in a second and they only knew one thing, he had the gun.
The car skidded to a stop, the officer jumped out with gun drawn. “Stop freeze! Drop the gun.”
Jake quickly tossed the gun on the ground and stepped back with his hands up.