Fourteen #3
When I ducked outside, I realized how cold it was.
I needed a jacket or a cab right away. I shoved my hands into my pockets and started down the street.
After a couple of minutes I realized something was moving out of the corner of my eye.
Untrained in the art of surveillance and stalking myself—as in how to do it or how not to let on when someone is doing it to you—I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked to see if there was anyone there.
The van that was clearly following me did the same.
It came to a stop, and as the side door flew open, I bolted.
I heard the firecracker pop close to me and ran down the alley to my right.
I heard the revving engine and was up and over the six-foot chain-link fence in seconds flat.
Give it up for my gym membership. Yes, I exercised to look good, but cardio worked no matter the reason.
I ran on, never once looking back, having seen way too many horror movies where the hero got it like that. The rusted dumpster I ducked around got hit, and the reverberation of metal hitting metal panicked me.
When I reached the next street, I heard screeching tires as I went up and over cars stopped at the light, trying to get my bearings and see where I was.
I nearly got hit by another car that ran the red, and ran flat out once I got across.
The only thought I had was that I had to lead whoever it was as far away from my apartment as possible.
The stairs leading up to the L were there suddenly, and as I ran I heard the engine.
Too close to get up to the platform, and I was getting dangerously close to my neighborhood.
I swerved sharply and heard the crunch of metal.
I instantly reversed and started back for the club.
I could feel my lungs starting to hurt even as I pushed and felt the kick of speed.
Again, all those hours on the stair climber and hundreds of laps in the pool were paying off big-time.
Funny the things that go through your head when you’re running for your life.
It was hilarious, or it would have been, but when I came careening around the corner, I saw Nick and his friends coming out of the club. I went around the parked cars into the street so I wouldn’t run past him and his group. I stopped suddenly, and the van blew by as I looked around.
“Jory!” Nick yelled at me, and when our eyes met, I registered the fear there before I checked the van. It swung around, and I bolted across the street. I heard the tires and more firecracker pops before I flew down another alley. I saw a dumpster and above it a roof ladder.
Adrenaline is amazing. I felt like Spider-Man or something. I got up on the closed dumpster, leaped for the rung, and did a chin-up to the second one. Once my legs were under me, I got up fast as the van came to a screeching stop beneath me. Not that I looked down, I just heard it.
There was yelling, and then there were sparks in front of my face, on all sides, as I climbed.
Luck was on my side, and the shots missed me.
I fell over onto the roof of the apartment building and lay there for a minute trying to breathe, trying to get my heart and lungs not to explode.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the police precinct.
I asked not for Sam but for his partner, Dominic Kairov. I sat there as I was forwarded.
“Mr. Keyes?”
“Detective Kairov?”
“Yes, what’s—”
But I cut him off, told him where I was, what had happened, and asked if maybe he could send, like, a squad car or something to scare the van off.
“Where are you right—”
“Jory!”
I groaned as Sam’s voice came over the line. I hung up and peeked over the edge of the roof at the street below. No van. I was going to go to the roof door when it was thrown open and two guys came through. They both had guns drawn.
It was a lesson learned. Never stop moving until you were certain the threat was gone.
I scrambled over the side, and lucky for me they were more than fifty feet away.
I was down the ladder faster than I had come up, dropped the few feet to the lid of another dumpster, and rolled off to the pavement.
I was on my feet as the wall beside me exploded before I took the corner.
I ran down the sidewalk as fast as I could, crossed two streets, and hailed a cab.
Once inside, I directed the driver back to my apartment.
I ducked down in the back and saw the van fly out into the middle of the street and blow by us going in the opposite direction.
I sat up and put my head back and closed my eyes. I tried to catch my breath.
“You all right, man?” the driver asked.
I exhaled long and loud. “Perfect.”
Maybe I could skip the gym the following day.
Once I was inside the outer door at my new place, I felt completely safe.
Nobody knew I’d moved, and when I was under the hot water ten minutes later, I concentrated on not passing out.
When adrenaline leaves, it just sort of deserts you in a hurry.
At least I managed to change into my flannel pajama bottoms and hit the bed instead of my couch when I passed out.
The pounding on the door woke me, and when I looked at the clock in the kitchen as I shuffled to the front door, it was two thirty in the morning.
“Jory!”
I winced. Even his voice through the door sounded like a hammer.
When I cracked the door, I left the chain on and peered out. “Yes, Detective?” I yawned loudly. “What can I do for you?”
“Open this goddamn door right fucking now!”
The volume was seriously too much for the hour. “I have neighbors,” I reminded him as I closed the door to unchain it. “Could you keep it down, please?”
When I opened it again, he stormed in, slamming the door behind him and grabbing me in one swift motion.
He had a hand fisted in my hair and the other on my throat as he stared down into my eyes.
I was still half-asleep, so my body was much more pliable than it usually would have been. I was boneless.
“You stupid sonofabitch,” he growled at me, his mouth hovering over mine.
I squirmed free of his grasp and crossed the room, putting my couch between us. “What do you want?”
“You’re going into protective custody right fuckin’ now.” His voice was hard and cold.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not.”
“If I can find you, believe me, they can find you.”
“Please, you know who my boss is—they don’t. I’m not worried. Besides, if they kill me, maybe you can catch ’em in the act. That would make you really happy.”
“Jory—”
“Just go away. Please. I’ll do anything.”
He stared at me for a long minute before he spun around, stalked to the door, threw it open so hard it hit the wall, and walked out.
I was going to clap because it was so dramatic, but I thought better of it.
What if he heard me? Bearbaiting was stupid, after all.
As I replaced the chain and dead bolt, I hoped I was all done with drama for one night.