56 - Dante
56
Dante
I felt uncharacteristically excited as I rode home in the Uber. I wasn’t the kind of guy who liked throwing surprises. It felt underhanded. I preferred to just tell people about a birthday party or other surprise event, rather than just springing it on them without warning.
But there was something about Jazz that was changing me. I wanted to surprise her by coming home early. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she got home and I was waiting on the front porch.
I had been thinking about her a lot lately. That was new for me, too. I was good at compartmentalizing things in my life. When I was at work, I focused on work. When I was traveling, I focused on traveling. When I was in bed with a woman, tangled legs and sheets, I gave them all of myself.
But this past trip had been different. As soon as I went out of town, I found myself missing Jazz. I dreamed about her at night, and found my mind constantly drifting in her direction during the day. Soon I was counting down the days until I would see her again.
I fucking hated it. I was proud of my independence. I usually didn’t allow anyone, man or woman, to affect my emotions like this.
But I also kind of loved it.
This feeling was so new .
The Uber pulled into our neighborhood, made two turns, and then we were on my street. I gazed out the window, watching the houses float by…
And there she was. Jazz, the woman I had been fantasizing about every night, wearing colorful leggings and a crop top, like a neon billboard flashing in the darkness. She must have been walking back from Pickleball.
I want to lick the sweat off every inch of her body .
The intrusive thought was sudden and powerful. Seeing Jazz was so much better than thinking about her. I could have her in my arms within minutes .
But she wasn’t alone. Voldemort was in front of her, checking his mail. She flinched when she saw him, then abruptly ran away.
Directly into a lamppost.
“Fuck!” I said, reaching for the window controls. “Hey! The window won’t work!”
“Child locks!” the Uber driver said.
“Pull over!” I demanded. “Right here!”
“I’ve got your address right up here, hold your horses sir…”
By the time he stopped in front of my house and I jumped out, Jazz was gone. No, wait—there was a flash of neon being dragged into the house across the street.
Voldemort’s house.
A cold calmness came over me. All the other thoughts rattling around in my head dimmed, until I was left with flawless clarity.
Jazz was in trouble.
My fist clenched.
I went inside, hurrying but with calm purpose. Like a soldier who was carrying out his orders. I retrieved the biggest knife from our kitchen. I knew it was dull, but that didn’t matter. I intended to swing it so hard that its sharpness wouldn’t matter.
I jogged back outside and across the street. More neon clothes caught my attention—Aiden and Bash were walking toward me, laughing.
“Dante! I thought you weren’t getting home until Monday.” Bash blinked. “Is that a knife?”
“Voldemort took Jazz.”
“Come again, Hermione?” Aiden said.
“He took her.” I pointed at the house with my knife. “She was walking home. He dragged her inside the house.”
“Oh, fuck!” Aiden said. “What should we do?”
Bash pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the police.”
“Do whatever you want,” I said, opening the gate. “I’m not waiting for the cops to show up.”
“We’ll help! Wait for us!” Aiden insisted. “I’ll grab my bat.”
“Hello? Police?” Bash said into his phone.
The two of them ran across the street to our house.
Ignoring all the warning signs posted on the fence, I stepped onto Voldemort’s property. The grass came up to my waist, but there was kind of a path up the middle. I moved slowly, eyeing the ground with every step. I didn’t really think he had booby trapped his yard with land mines… but I couldn’t be certain. Getting myself killed wouldn’t help Jazz.
I glanced up at the windows. Half of them were boarded up from the outside. One of the others was blocked by blinds. I imagined a gun barrel appearing between the blinds, aiming toward me and shooting through the window. I was a sitting duck standing here. If I heard gunshots, I could hit the deck and be protected by the tall grass.
Unless there were land mines. I swallowed hard.
My fear was an omnipresent thing, but it paled in comparison to my concern for Jazz. The need to reach her, to save her, overwhelmed my consciousness until my fear was a dim thing. Like a television whose volume had been turned all the way down.
I reached the front door. It looked totally normal, but I knew the dangers concealed behind the simple wood. Should I try the knob, or just kick it down and barge inside? The element of surprise was probably best.
“Wait for us!” Bash called.
My two friends sprinted across the street, threw open the gate, and hurried up to the front door. “Not afraid of the land mines?” I whispered.
“I don’t care,” Aiden insisted. “We have to help Jazz.”
“Blowing yourself up won’t help anyone.”
Aiden grabbed my shirt in his fist and leaned close. “I love her!” he hissed.
Bash and I both blinked in surprise. Both at what he’d said, and the ferocity in which he’d said it.
“I didn’t realize it until right now, but I love Jazz,” Aiden whispered. “Nothing else matters. Nothing .”
“I have strong feelings for her too,” Bash admitted. “I can’t lie to myself anymore. It’s not just casual.”
“You feel the same way,” Aiden told me. “I can tell.”
“Jazz is a cool neighbor, and a great fuck,” I whispered back at him.
Both of them gave me a look.
“Fine,” I said. “I enjoy her company. That’s why I came home early. Wait a minute. What the hell are you two holding?”
Gripped tightly in Aiden’s hand was a metal kitchen ladle. Bash was holding a wooden rolling pin.
“I couldn’t find my baseball bat, so we grabbed what we could.”
“You took the good knife,” Bash complained to me.
“Forget it,” I said. “Stay behind me. I’m going to knock the door down.”
“Should we knock first?” Bash asked. “What if he has a gun?”
“Then we don’t want to give him a warning, do we?”
Aiden leaned forward and banged on the door with a fist. “Let us in! Or we’ll knock the door down!”
I glared at him. “I’m going in.”
Bash gripped the rolling pin like a bat. “Do it.”
I turned and eyed the door. A paranoid guy like Voldemort would probably have multiple locks and deadbolts on the door. No matter how hard I kicked, this was going to hurt.
Fuck it. I would saw my leg off if it meant getting to Jazz quicker.
“Wait!” a feminine voice called from inside. “I’m coming to the door!”
Aiden’s eyes widened. “Jazz? That’s Jazz!”
We heard the mechanical sound of locks being disengaged, then the door swung open. Jazz was standing there, decked out in neon clothes like an exercise infomercial from the eighties.
“I’m okay!” she said.
My chest ached at the sight of her, and my knees felt weak. I dropped the knife and hugged her tightly.
“I was so afraid,” I said, breathing in the scent of her hair. She smelled like home.
“They helped me,” she said. “And if you squeeze me any tighter, you’ll crack a rib!”
I lessened my grip on her.
“They helped you?” Bash asked. “Plural?”
“She suffered quite the head injury said Ms. Dermatt, who joined us by the door. Deeper in the room was a short man wearing camo clothes. When he realized I was looking at him, he stepped behind a bookcase. Like he was bashful.
That’s Voldemort?
“Thanks for your help, but I think it’s time for me to leave,” Jazz said to Ms. Dermatt.
“Think on what I said?” she asked her.
Jazz nodded. “I will, Karen.”
“Wait a minute,” Bash said. “Your name really is Karen?”