Chapter Nineteen
Trystan
I gazed around the room, not at all interested in what was going on with the award ceremony, and wondered how long I would have to make an appearance before I could disappear without it looking like I was ditching my team. This acknowledgement shit had never meant anything to me and I found that it meant even less now. I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to be with Dakota. The way we left things this morning was burning the pit of my stomach and I felt uneasy, like something bad was lingering in the air, threatening to ruin what I was trying to build with the love of my life. It was sinister and sneaky, lurking around every corner and waiting for just the right time to pop out and rip it all away.
After I’d bled my heart for him this morning, he’d said all the right things, promised that he would give us another chance, but the words hadn’t matched the uneasy look in his eyes. It was as if he wanted to believe me but just couldn’t bring himself to do it. I knew he was trying, I saw it in his eyes and in his smile, but it still didn’t help me understand why he couldn’t just let this other guy go—not if he truly loved me the way I loved him.
On top of all this shit, I’d lost my cell and I couldn’t even text him and let him know I was sorry for being such an ass. No, I didn’t understand it all, but it still made me sick to remember the fear I saw on his face last night. Fear. I’d hurt him. Hell, I’d hurt us both and I damn well needed to fix it.
That was it, I was finished. My team, coach, and school would have to understand—I had something more important…somebody who needed me more. I was about to look for Coach so I could tell him I had to leave when Alexander stepped in front of me, blocking my path and sporting a very angry scowl.
“Where’ve you been? You’re late,” I growled at him. “If I have to attend this stupid ceremony, then you should have to be here, too.”
“What are you doing here, Trystan?” Alex snapped.
His was angry…or nervous…or nervously angry. Lincoln stood beside him, frowning at me and holding a dripping pile of newspapers. What the hell?
“What do you mean ‘what am I doing here’? You know why I’m here. It was mandatory. The question on the table is why are you late and, more importantly, what the fuck is he holding?” I asked, nodding at the papers still clenched in Lincoln’s hand and making a pretty significant mess on the floor. “No, the important question is what the hell are we going to do to ditch this thing without looking like total asses? I can’t be here anymore.”
Alex grabbed me by the arm and started tugging me across the floor. I would’ve fought back, demanded to know what the hell stunt he was trying to pull, but the spot where he gripped me so tightly was deathly white and icy cold. Lincoln slid in on the other side of me, politely and sometimes not so politely, getting people out of our way. Coach looked in our direction, frowned and made like he was going to try to stop us, but one look from Alexander and Lincoln had him stepping aside. Holy fuck, he stepped aside for no one.
“What’s going on, Alex? What the hell are you guys doing?” I demanded when we reached the auditorium doors. Marcus wheeled up at a much faster speed than anybody would consider safe and ended up on the sidewalk only a few feet from the door. For a split second, I imagined myself being kidnapped by my best friend and his Dom lover.
Once inside the car, Alex looked at me and asked, “Did you send me a text this morning asking me to give Dakota a message?” His tone was urgent and his eyes were terrified. I noticed his hands were trembling slightly. His cast was soaking wet and I knew that shit was not supposed to happen. I also knew Lincoln would never let that happen…unless something else was much more important.
“No,” I answered. “I lost my phone sometime this morning.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out Dakota’s cell. “Well, I don’t think I’ve lost it, actually. I think maybe Dakota and I accidentally grabbed each other’s phones this morning.” I shook my head, once again remembering the look on his face when I’d dropped him off at swim practice. “To say it was a rough morning and an even rougher night would be an understatement.”
Alex’s words finally registered in my mind and alarm bells started going off. “Why would you think I’d texted you? Did you get a text from my phone?” Why would Dakota send a text to Alex on my phone? Had he been trying to let me know he had mine?
“As fast as possible, Marcus,” Lincoln said quietly.
I looked at him and the expression on his face told me all I needed to know—something very bad was happening—something very bad was happening to Dakota.
“What happened?” I demanded. “Where’s Dakota?”
“I got a text from your phone this morning asking me to tell Dakota to meet you at your apartment tonight at six o’clock…that you had something very special planned for him.” Alex’s hand was gripping my knee. “I thought you’d decided to blow the ceremony off and show him how important he is to you, that would you choose him over football any day of the week. I should’ve known something was off, Trystan. You would have never asked me to give a message like that—you would have told him yourself. I’m so sorry. I should have known better.”
Frowning, I asked, “Why would anybody do that? Do you think it’s some kind of prank?” Nothing was making sense other than the fact that I had to get to Dakota. I’d sensed it all day. I’d known something was wrong. Evil had been in the air but I’d ignored it, vowing that I would make everything up to Dakota after the ceremony. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why…why are you guys so worried? Hell, it’s all over your faces. Tell me what I need to know. Have you tried to call my apartment?”
Realizing Dakota’s phone was in my hand, I pushed the button to power it up. Why would anybody do something like this? What did they hope to accomplish? Were they just trying to hurt Dakota by making him think I had something special planned but then not show up? If that was it, why would anybody go to such trouble?
In that second, I knew it was the boyfriend before me—he was somehow responsible for this. He was trying to come between us with lies and stupid games. I was so going to fuck this guy up.
“We tried calling your apartment on the way over to the auditorium. We tried your phone. We tried Dakota’s phone. I’d hoped it was nothing but when Lincoln found what he did…well, I’m afraid it’s something really bad. We have got to get to your apartment, Trystan. Maybe it’s nothing and we’ll all laugh about this in a few minutes?”
We weren’t going to be laughing. I knew we weren’t. Alex and Lincoln knew we weren’t. I was suddenly afraid I would never laugh again. Fear clutched at my heart, nearly stealing my breath completely away. Turning to Lincoln, I asked, “What did you find? Please tell me it isn’t anything bad.” I knew it was going to be bad.
“Remember when you asked Alexander to pick up Dakota’s Jeep from his dorm when we had some time? We stopped on our way over to the ceremony.” He handed me the bundled up wet newspaper he’d been carrying in the auditorium. “This was stuffed in his tail pipe, this was why carbon monoxide had backed up into his Jeep that night—not the snow. Well, the snow didn’t help but this was the main cause.” He handed me the bundle.
“Newspapers?” I whispered. “You think Dakota tried to kill himself? Did he put these in the pipe?” He wouldn’t do this.
He was taking anti-depressants. There’d been a darkness always swirling around him before we had gotten together. Had he tried to end it all that night? Had I interrupted a suicide attempt instead of rescuing him from a freak accident?
“Look inside the bundle. There’s a note,” Lincoln told me. Alex still gripped my leg. Marcus still drove like the hounds of hell were on our heels. My heart still refused to beat.
Slowly, I opened the soggy papers and resting in the center, was a piece of notebook paper that held the words I’m sorry, I lied. Please forgive me. Admitting the truth is the only way I can forgive myself.
The words, sad and lonely, were so characteristic of Dakota when we’d first met. It was like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and that at any given moment, he would collapse beneath the heaviness. It was what had first captured my attention—the sadness. When my eyes had settled on him that first day, I’d wanted to wrap him up and protect him from whatever was sucking his happiness away.
Alex leaned in close to me and urged, “Read the headline of the newspaper, Trystan. We think it may be connected to whatever message was being sent with this note.”
The paper was wet and some of the words were blurred, but I could still make out the headline: Texas Trojan football team shocked by kidnapping, torture, and rape allegations made by fellow star athlete.
I read five sentences before the paper tumbled from my hand and fell to the floor. I didn’t want to read anymore, I didn’t want to hear about any of this from anybody except Dakota. It only took five sentences for me to realize that the reporter hadn’t believed the allegations brought by a member of the swim team—five sentences to realize the football team, school, and state had sided with the players, refusing to believe their star athletes could have done anything so outrageous.
I knew that Dakota had been that star swimmer. I also knew the names of the four players that had suddenly been removed from the championship game roster a mere three days before we had been scheduled to play—Lionel Hightower, Christian Weatherby, Evan Tannahill, and Solomon Baker.
My heart was pounding and I could hear Alex and Lincoln talking, could see their mouths moving, but I couldn’t actually make myself understand what they were saying. Kidnapped. Tortured. Raped.
My Dakota.
Fuck—by someone he thought he loved…someone he’d thought loved him. Things started sliding into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle coming together. His sadness. His refusal to talk to me in the beginning. The way he thought I would be ashamed of him and our relationship. His last name was wrong on his license. Transferring his senior year after classes had already started. Last night when he’d panicked when Alex had shown up and he was tied up in my bedroom. The scars on his body, in places meant only for me to see or touch. Ulcers. Anti-depressants.
Suicide.
No, not suicide.
Dakota hadn’t tried to kill himself…which meant somebody had tried to kill him.
Twice.
The day the car had almost ran him over—I’d thought it appeared to be intentional but then assured myself and Dakota that just wasn’t possible. Why would anybody want to hurt
Dakota? It was an accident.
Dakota had known it wasn’t an accident. He’d known, but he’d dropped it because I hadn’t believed him.
I’d told him just this morning that he needed to start moving on, everybody dealt with bad breakups and he needed to ‘man-up’ and start getting over his. My words must have killed him, crushed his spirit, but he’d merely smiled his sad smile and promised he would try. He didn’t think I would believe him. He honestly thought I would treat him like the others—side with football instead of love.
“He…he didn’t try to kill himself, Alex. Somebody wants to hurt him and I’m afraid that somebody has him right now.” I could hear the panic in my voice and didn’t give a fuck that tears were streaming down my face. Love was not weak—Alex and Lincoln would understand this.
“That’s what I’m thinking, too.” Lincoln said, his voice calm but deadly at the same time. “The second Alex saw you at the ceremony, we knew something was wrong—that’s why we grabbed you so quickly.” He reached over and put his hand on top of the one Alex still had resting on my knee. “We will get to him, Mr. Matherly. We will get there and we will end this for Dakota once and for all.”
I looked at my watch, it was almost seven o’clock—which meant whoever orchestrated this already had him for nearly an hour. Rape and torture.
The fear inside of me was almost more than I could handle. I knew I couldn’t live another day on this earth if Dakota was no more.
Dakota’s cell rang loudly, nearly causing me to fling it across the car before I realized what it was. As soon as I recovered, I punched the button and hissed, “Who the hell is this?”
Someone cleared their throat on the other end and asked, just as angrily as I had, “Who the hell is this? I know it isn’t Dakota, but I know this is his cell. Is this Evan? Because if it is, you damn well better know that if you lay one finger on him, you will spend the rest of your life in prison. We know all about the shit you’ve pulled with your tracking device, motherfucker. You’re going down this time and there won’t be a damned thing your daddy’s money or your football abilities will be able to do to save your sorry ass.”
Evan Tannahill.
In a shaky voice, I said, “This is Trystan Matherly. Who is this?”
“I don’t give a fuck who you’re, put Dakota on the phone now. This is an emergency.”
“Sir, I really need you to tell me who you’re and what I’m up against. Dakota is my…Dakota is the love of my life and I think he’s in trouble right now. I have his phone but he isn’t with me. I’m on my way to where I think he is now. Please tell me what the fuck I can do to make sure he is safe.”
I could hear him pecking on his computer as I talked, so his next words shouldn’t have shocked me. “Trystan Matherly? The football player from Alabama Temple? You, motherfucker! Are you involved with Evan? Are you helping him?” He demanded in an arrogant tone but I could hear the panic in his voice.
“No, I’m not helping Evan do a goddamned thing. I’m in love with Dakota and I’m trying to keep him fucking safe! Tell me who you’re and what I need to do or I’m hanging the fuck up! I don’t have time for games.”
There was a pause and then the man answered, “This is Detective Humphreys with the Longmire Police Department. I’ve been working on Dakota’s case and it is imperative that I speak with him. You say he isn’t with you, do you know where he is? Who he’s with?”
A detective—which meant Dakota’s ordeal at the college wasn’t over. It was also screaming to me that this man believed Dakota was in danger. Marcus was pulling us into the parking garage so I knew I didn’t have time to do anything other than give him the address and hope he could send the Calvary in our direction.
“I think he’s at my apartment, but I don’t think he’s safe. The address is 4102 Lincoln Avenue, The Domes, Penthouse apartment. We’re here now. Are you on your way?”
Another pause. “Son, I’m still in Texas. I just found out about the tracking device about two hours ago and I’ve been trying to reach Dakota since then. I’m calling the local authorities right now to let them know the situation. They’ll be there as quickly as possible. Don’t go into that apartment. Evan is dangerous,” he warned. I could hear him yelling orders at somebody in his office and typing away, hopefully sending the police to us.
“So am I,” I said into the phone and hit the disconnect button.
Dakota
It was strange, but I actually felt the life draining out of my body. I was alert, wondering if it was the loss of blood or oxygen that would get me first, but that alertness was slipping away with each valuable second. I’d already determined the real pain of dying was the emotional side of it—not the physical shit and I stood by that even now…as I was slipping away. It was nothing like I feared it would be—after I’d reached a certain point in Evan’s violence, my body almost felt at peace, numb probably. Not at peace.
I would love to lie here and just die, just stop bleeding and stop breathing, but my mind wouldn’t stop sending signals to my heart, alerting me of everything I was leaving behind, all the words left unsaid. As I lay across Trystan’s bed, the bed where he’d made love to me and made me forget my past, Evan’s hand wrapped around my throat and squeezing the last of life from me, I was disgusted that Evan’s face would be the last that I saw on this earth. I was heartbroken that I would never get to see Trystan again. Touch him. Kiss him. Hear him laugh. See him smile. Simply bask in all the warmth that followed Trystan wherever he goes.
The pain of losing those precious things would probably be what finally killed me.
The light in the room started to dim and I actually had time to notice it, question it, and then realize it wasn’t the lights dimming—it was me dying. It was dark on the other side, I always thought it would be bright lights and warmth. But I was cold.
With the last ounce of life in me, I vowed I wouldn’t let Evan’s face be the last thing I saw—I wouldn’t take him with me to heaven because he sure the hell didn’t belong there. A strength I didn’t realize still remained in my heart and soul urged me to tilt my head just enough so that my eyes could look away from the evil hovering over me. My weak gaze landed on Cowboy, lying in the corner of the room and bleeding badly from the knife wounds Evan had delivered to his body as he’d tried to protect me. His big brown eyes were open and watching me, and I swore he was begging me to forgive him. He’d tried. Hell, we’d both tried.
A part of me wanted to take Cowboy to heaven with me but the other part, the biggest part, hoped he lived for Trystan. If he could just hang on until Trystan came home, I knew the man I loved would move heaven and earth to save his life. He would do it for me. He would do it because Cowboy had been willing to give his life for me.
Evan was a fucking fool if he thought he would have a chance against Trystan. A sane person would probably be worried but I wasn’t—Trystan would fucking kill Evan, there was not a doubt in my mind. He would kill Evan and he would rescue Cowboy. As the room grew darker and darker, I heard, from somewhere so far away, Evan screaming “What the fuck are you smiling at?”
Leave it to me, I couldn’t even die well enough to please him.
Trystan
The first thing I saw when I entered the apartment was rose petals strewn all over the floor as you stepped off the elevator. Furniture was toppled and pictures were either tilted sideways or completely knocked off the walls. Shards of glass covered the floor and the balcony doors were shattered. The first thing I heard was a man screaming in outrage.
“Stop fucking smiling! What the fuck are you smiling at? Only a fucking idiot would smile when they’re dying!”
Since the screaming was coming from my bedroom, my feet started racing down the hall as my heart thundered in my chest and my mind begged that I wasn’t too late. I heard Alex and Lincoln behind me and while I was glad they were here, a part of me wished they weren’t. I didn’t want them to see Dakota hurt, he wouldn’t want them to see him hurt.
I didn’t want them to see me kill another man.
As I entered the bedroom, I’d like to say I raced across the floor, tossed Evan out a window, and saved Dakota all in one split second but that wasn’t what happened. I stopped in the doorway, frozen in fear, as my eyes absorbed the horrific scene before me. Nothing in the room was left untouched by violence and blood—so much fucking blood everywhere. The glass in the French doors was cracked and streaked with blood. The door to the bathroom was splintered and hanging in pieces, the biggest part flat on the ground. Cowboy lay in the corner, bleeding and whimpering.
Evan Tannahill was on my bed, straddling what looked like a lifeless Dakota, and still screaming at him to stop smiling. Even from where I stood frozen in place, I could see his huge hands wrapped around Dakota’s slim neck, squeezing and shaking. Dakota’s eyes were open, staring in the direction of Cowboy, but unblinking and lifeless—the warmth gone, stolen from me forever.
My heart stopped beating and in that second, I promised God everything and anything I had to offer if He could only give him back to me…or let me take his place. All my past sins and shortcomings haunted me, whispering that this happened as a punishment for me.
Dakota had died this day. So would Evan. So would I. A part of me already felt dead. I’d failed him. My job was to protect him and I’d failed.
As I stood, helpless and worthless, Lincoln and Alexander shoved past me and tackled Evan on the bed, sending all three of them to the floor in a bundle of flaying limbs and curse words. It was that movement, the sound of bodies colliding, that finally snapped me out of the cage I’d locked myself in. Without a glance in Alex and Lincoln’s direction, because I knew they could handle Evan Tannahill, I rushed across the room, lifted Dakota’s lifeless body off the bed and gently laid him on the floor. On the outside, my movements were calm and steady, almost like a robotic EMT, but on the inside I was screaming, wailing, and begging for mercy.
I started the compressions to his chest, strong thrusts to his sternum just as they’d taught me in the CPR class I’d bitched about having to attend. Blood seeped out of open wounds with each compression, but I forced myself to focus on Dakota’s face instead of the damage Evan had inflicted to the rest of his body. His beautiful face—so serene and at peace. Evan was right, he was smiling.
In my head, I counted, but encouraged Dakota with my words. “You did good, Guppy. You did so good. You were smiling to piss him off, weren’t you? It worked, babe.”
I left the chest compressions and moved to give him puffs of oxygen. Holding his nose and tilting his head, I breathed my life into his lungs over and over again.
Chest compressions. “You fought him like a motherfucker, too. I bet he didn’t expect that shit, did he? I know you hurt him, babe. No way is all this blood yours. You messed that fucker up and I’m going to finish the job for you as soon as I’m finished here. Breathe for me so I can tend to Evan—he needs me, sweetie. Breathe.”
Puffs of oxygen. Puffs of life.
Nothing.
I kept up the chest compressions.
Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the police sirens.
“Come on, babe. Fight for me. Fight for us. I know how long you can fucking hold your breath, Dakota. He wasn’t able to choke you out!”
Puffs.
Compressions.
I heard Alex and Lincoln shouting behind me, urging me to keep working instead of telling me I was wasting my time. I heard Evan, too. The fucking bastard wouldn’t shut the fuck up. They were holding him down, but outside of killing him, I don’t suppose there was any way they could shut him the fuck up.
“For me, Dakota. Please!”
I felt his back arch slightly and then a choking sound as he tried to gasp for air.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it. You’re doing it.” I pleaded for him to keep fighting for air and he did. He was trying so damned hard to come back to me. I was rubbing him everywhere, trying to caress some warmth back into his body. I whispered promises. I pledged my love. I joked. I cried. I fucking begged.
His eyes didn’t open, but his body was struggling to live. Gurgling sounds came from his mouth, throat, and chest, but gurgling sounds meant he was trying.
“Hey, Guppy. Don’t do that again, okay,” I whispered and then kissed his dry lips. “Focus on breathing for me, help is on the way. You’re going to be fine. I’m with you. I will never leave you.”
Even with his eyes closed, he started to struggle, the urge to live pushing him to fight even when he wasn’t fully conscious.
“He can’t hurt anybody now, babe. Alex and Lincoln have him.” I looked around the room at Cowboy. He was still with us. “Your Cowboy is fighting, too. I’ll take care of him. He’ll make it through this, I promise. Both of you will.”
I turned to Lincoln and said, “Can you call an emergency vet and get somebody over here to take care of our dog?” Lincoln nodded and started working on his cell right away. Minutes barely had time to pass before Marcus miraculously appeared in the door of my bedroom and he and Alex worked together to get Cowboy wrapped in a blanket and carried out of the room.
“I’d told Marcus to wait and make sure the police and paramedics knew exactly where to find us. He’ll take Cowboy to the nearest vet and Alex will stay in the garage and make sure the ambulance gets here as quickly as possible.” Lincoln said quietly. “I didn’t really want either of them to be here to see this.”
“You idiots are wasting your fucking time,” Evan slurred and spit out a glob of blood from his cut lip. “Even if you can save him this time, you won’t always be there to protect him. Dakota belongs to me. He always has and he always will.” He laughed. “Oh, hell, what am I saying? There’s no way you can save him. He’s lost too much blood. You’re wasting your time, Matherly.”
I caressed Dakota’s cheek, wiping away streaks of blood with the movement, and then my fingers trailed down to check the pulse at the base of his neck—weak, but beating. I thought he was trying to open his eyes, there was movement behind his eyelids but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to force them open again. “It’s okay, babe. Alex is taking Cowboy to the vet right now. If you aren’t careful, he’ll be home before you’re. You wouldn’t want that, would you? I know you think you’re the only one capable of taking care of him, so you’d best be lying there, building your strength up. He’ll need you.” One of my tears splattered on his cheek. “I need you.”
Evan’s harsh laughter gurgled from behind me. “This is righteous! You actually care for him, don’t you? I thought that Trystan Matherly was a badass. Wait until everybody hears that you’ve been whipped into submission by a tight ass. Hilarious!” Then his bloody smile grew even wider. “Hey, guess what, Matherly,” he spat. “The best part of this whole deal is that I told him you were in on it. He’s going to die thinking you betrayed him.” He guffawed out another irritating laugh. “You should have seen his face. It damned near destroyed him.”
I glanced around, but only to ensure that Lincoln had everything under control behind me. I didn’t give a fuck about Evan Tannahill or the shit coming out of his mouth right now. There was not one damned thing he could say to me that would change what was going to happen.
“I was his first, you know,” Evan snarled. “I was the first to nail that tight ass so I guarantee it’s my cock he was thinking about every time you were inside of him. Me. He belongs to me.” Another hysterical laugh. “I shared him with my friends, Trystan. One long, cold, fun-filled night the four of us took him over and over again, in every horrible way you could begin to imagine. Did you know he can handle two cocks in his ass and one in his mouth at the same time? Trust me, he sure the hell can—moaned like a bitch the entire time. Did you find his scar? The one I left on him so he would always remember that night? If you’ve had him, then you damned well know what I’m talking about, his special spot. Fuck but that little taint used to be what could send him into orgasm every fucking time you applied a little bit of pressure.” He snorted out another laugh. “Bet it isn’t anymore, is it? I bet he can’t feel a damned thing. Cigarette burns will do that to the body—leave an ugly scar and kill nerve endings.”
At this moment everything Evan was screeching was merely words, an annoyance that kept interrupting my time with Dakota. Later, when all of this was over, and I knew Dakota was safe, I’d take the time to purge them from my heart and mind.
“Are you even listening to me, you dumbass fucker? Did you hear what we did to him? What kind of pussy are you? Are you just going to sit there and cry, holding that piece of shit faggot or are you going to fight me like a man?”
“How long before you think the police and paramedics will get here, Lincoln?” I asked. My voice was calm and my mind was clear.
“I hear them pulling up outside.” Yeah, I could hear the sirens now—a lot of them, sounding like they were surrounding the building. I could already hear shouting downstairs. And the fucker kept running his stupid mouth.
“He begged us to stop, Trystan. He pleaded with me, those big green eyes of his looking at me like he was a puppy and I’d just kicked the fuck out of him. For the first few minutes, I think he honestly thought I would help him…that I hadn’t been the one to orchestrate the entire night. You should have seen the look on his face the moment he realized what was happening…what I’d done and what we were about to do to him. I’ll never forget that look. I damn well nearly came in my pants.
“Wait, I have one more to share with you. Trust me, you’ll love this one,” he goaded. “Picture this, one of my friends is holding his hands, one has one leg, and one has the other leg, spreading him as wide as possible for me. They’ve got his head tilted up so he can watch as I put my whole fist inside of him.” He raised his arm and flexed his fingers in a vulgar motion. “I’m not fucking with you, man—my whole fist.” He laughed. “Of course, that’s when I knew I’d probably pushed his body past its limits. Blood was gushing almost as bad as the tears were flowing from his pretty fuck-me eyes.”
“Where’s his knife, Lincoln?” Words, they were just words. I knew I couldn’t allow them into my head or heart—not right now, at least.
“Aww, big boy isn’t so big after all, is he? Aren’t you afraid I’m going to cut you like I cut your little bitch boy?” He snorted. “I wonder how long one can live when they’ve lost over half the blood in their body? It has to be getting close to the time limit, don’t you think?” He spat in Dakota’s direction. “He can’t even hold his pretty eyes open anymore.” Winking at me, he added, “He thought you were in on it, Trystan. Oh, how easily he was ready to accept that you’d betrayed him. He’s going to die with those doubts.”
“Here it is,” Lincoln said quietly, handing me the knife and then turning his full attention back to Dakota.
“Feel safer now, big guy?”
I got to my feet and stepped toward him. “I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch. Before the cops get here.”
Lincoln grabbed my arm as I started toward him. “He’s not worth it, Trystan. I know how you must feel, but let the cops take him.”
I jerked away just as the first cops burst through the door. “Drop the knife!” they were yelling at me. “Get on the floor!”
I had time to glance at Evan one last time before I sank to my knees, at least five revolvers trained on both of us. “You’re lucky, asshole. These cops just saved your sorry, worthless life. But not for long. I promise you I’ll come after you. Every day of the rest of your life you’ll be checking behind yourself, wondering when I’m going to show up. And I will—make no mistake about it.”
His eyes were big and scared as the room suddenly filled up with cops and paramedics. He tried for a laugh, but it came out hollow. He knew I meant every word. Maybe he finally realized how much he’d fucked up, because I was going to kill him for what he’d done. It was only a matter of time.
Lincoln was talking to the cops by the door, explaining what we’d found when we walked in the room, and the others were standing around me and Evan nervously, trying to figure out what was going on and which one of us was the most dangerous one in the room. I could hear the paramedics working on Dakota, and I knew he was in good hands, but I still wanted this shit to be over so I could go to him. I turned my head to look back at him and that’s when I heard one of the cops cry out “Stop him!” in a really loud voice.
I looked back and saw that Evan, that crazy motherfucker, had made a lunge for the knife that I’d dropped between us on the floor. He swept it up in his hand and raised it over his head. That’s when three bullets from the guns of those cops slammed into him and I saw his body jerk sideways from the impact of each one. He got a stupid, surprised look on his face and slumped sideways onto the floor. The stupid asshole was dead before he ever hit the carpet.