5. Jesse
Chapter five
Jesse
W e’d forgotten what it felt like to lose. Thanks to Erik’s luck, we hadn’t suffered a defeat like this in a long time, and never one that hurt quite this much. He was disconsolate. Our headstrong leader, drunk at ten in the morning because he couldn’t bring himself to face a world where he’d lost the one thing we all agreed was the best part of our little group.
I stayed near him, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. He refused to answer his phone, even though he was now the ruling King of his father’s empire. I’m sure it wouldn’t please our associates to know that their new King was currently passed out on the couch with no shirt on, a half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand.
We should be moving, we should be planning. How could we avenge Grace from the damn living room?! I grabbed Erik around the shoulders and dragged him up until he was sitting, then I slapped him hard in the face.
“The fuck!” he snapped, his eyes shooting open. I glared at him and snatched the bottle out of his hand before he could drink anymore.
“We’re going out,” I signed, and he blinked at me, confusion evident on his pretty face. “Come on!” I hauled him up off the couch, half dragging him out to my Jeep. I got him buckled into the passenger seat and sent a text to Levy that we were going out for a bit. Not that they’d even notice—both Levy and Anders had been hiding in their rooms for the last couple of days. All of us were great at dealing with loss, apparently.
I drove out to my spot, ignoring Erik’s attempts to get my attention, his hands moving in my periphery. I had a singular focus right now, and he would not deter me. Pulling up in front of the beach, I hopped out and rounded to his side. Erik looked a little green, and maybe I should’ve let him put on a shirt before we left, but oh well, we weren’t trying to look fancy today anyway.
Helping him out of the Jeep, I dragged him toward the ocean, ignoring the curious looks we got from the other beachgoers. I wasn’t as gentle as I had been with Grace, because Erik didn’t respond to gentleness. So I gave a hefty shove and pushed his dumb ass into the water.
There were some days when I wished I’d been born with hearing. Today was one of those days. I could only imagine what Erik sounded like as he emerged from the water, gasping and sputtering at the sobering chill of the ocean. It was cleansing, healing, and a damn good wake-up call. Stumbling to his feet, he waded back out, his jeans soaked and clinging to his skin. He looked great wet, I’ll give him that.
“You fucking asshole!” Erik signed, stalking toward me. I shrugged and shoved him back again. He was still drunk enough that I could catch him off guard, and he fell back in as a wave crested over his head. I watched him flail for a few moments, his head finally popping up from under the water as he coughed. This time he charged at me, and I backed up, my hands in my pockets as he stalked up the beach, murderous and dripping water.
“Ready to find Douglas and slit his throat?” I asked, and his chin lifted, some of the haze lifting from his eyes.
“Let’s fucking destroy him,” he signed back, and I grinned. That was more like it.
The ocean healed many wounds, but this one was a bit deeper. To heal this gaping, raw injury, we needed revenge.
I brought Erik home, and he showered and dressed, looking more like himself when he finally sat down at his desk and started making some calls. I brought him coffee and lunch, watching him cycle through our contacts one by one, getting the word out that we wanted eyes on Douglas Harding.
It didn’t take long. One of Sparrow’s men had heard a rumor that he was going to Dante’s tonight. With that in mind, I went upstairs, leaving Erik to plan. I pounded on Levy’s door and then strode inside, looking around the empty space. I signed impatiently, flicking the light switch on and off a couple of times for good measure. Finally, a flicker of movement and a ghostly form appeared next to the closet.
“What?” he signed, and Jesus, maybe I should take him to the ocean next. At least Erik had the excuse of scotch to explain why he looked as bad as he did. Levy… well, I hadn’t seen him like this in a long time.
“We’re going to kill Douglas tonight,” I signed, then repeated, more slowly, when I could tell he didn’t understand. His face hardened, and he nodded once before fading out of view. I felt his hand on my shoulder and I turned to leave, heading toward Anders’ room next. The hand tightened, stopping me from reaching his door. Levy flickered once, solidifying in front of me .
“Don’t, he’s not well,” was his only explanation. I grimaced but trusted his judgment, and we went downstairs to join Erik.
A few hours later, we were on our way to Dante’s. I was driving tonight, but we took the SUV because a lack of doors for a job like this felt exceedingly reckless. All of us were strapped to the teeth, and while I wasn’t hoping to get into a gunfight in a crowded club, I wasn’t sure if I could help myself once we spotted Douglas and his crew. The place was crawling with people tonight, and I parked a block away so we wouldn’t be worrying about a valet in the event that we needed to get out quickly. Levy was close behind us, staying out of sight as Erik smooth-talked his way past the bouncers and got us inside. From there, we split up, fanning out to surround the VIP section where Douglas liked to hold court. I spotted him first, that smarmy face of his gloating and laughing as he stood up to greet someone.
I imagined how it would feel to drag my knife across his throat. Debated in my head if I let him bleed out quickly, or make it slow. Slow would be better, I decided.
She would have died slowly.
I let the pain course through my limbs, fueling my rage. I watched as Douglas sat down and tried to get a headcount of how many goons we’d have to get through to reach him.
A shimmer of movement beside him had me doing a double take. Is that a flash of golden curls? I sent a text to our group chat, hoping the others had a better angle.
Jesse
Does D have a girl there? !
Erik
Where??
Jesse
Beside him, in front of the nasty guard in the suit.
Levy
Getting a better look.
I waited impatiently for Levy to text back, moving through the crowd to see if I could spot who was with that bastard. My phone buzzed once, and then several times in succession as I fumbled to unlock it.
Levy
I don’t understand.
How?
Attached photo
I clicked on the photo, and my heart nearly stopped. Beside Douglas, unmistakably and wholly alive, was Grace.