30. Shadow #4
“Maggie! You there?”
“Sorry, she can’t come to the phone,” a smooth, masculine voice says instead, and the sound of it again nearly has my phone slipping from my hand as my blood turns cold.
No.
No, no, no, no!
“Want to leave a message? Or perhaps you could do one better and join us. Maggie here looks like she could use a friend right about now.”
“What the fuck did you do to her, Trent?”
A low, baleful laugh rings in the air. “Why don’t you come find out?”
Whatever pathetic attempt at a threat I spew is cut off as I realize he’s already hung up.
Bolting from the fort, I don’t even bother using the ladder. I leap from the deck, hitting the lawn with a little more impact than my ankles like. Pain radiates up into my calves, but I don’t care. Dashing across the property, I battle my way through the crowds.
Ushering a chorus of apologies as I fight through the throng, I suddenly smack shoulders with a girl, and the force knocks me back.
“Ahh,” she moans, rubbing her beaten arm. Her eyes finally lock with mine, and I quite literally cry with relief.
“Maggie!” She doesn’t have time to react as I ensnare her in a massive hug.
She laughs with an intoxicated giggle I know all too well, not sounding the least bit put off. “You made it! Good to see you finally letting your hair down. Wanna do some jello shots?”
She goes to hand me one, but I knock it aside. “What happened with Trent?”
Mags just looks at me blankly.
“What did he do to you?” I have to reiterate.
She laughs again, but it’s more out of confusion. “Is this a trick question?”
“He called me from your phone…”
Maggie pats down her pockets and checks her clutch, coming to the obvious realization that she doesn’t have it. “Shit!”
Given her current blood alcohol level, it’s not surprising that she thinks it’s a good idea to go confront the fucker to get it back, forcing me to drag her to a halt.
If I were a betting kind of girl, I’d say Trent is now tucked away in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs, assuming blind panic will send me running in there. “We’ll get it back tomorrow. And if he doesn’t want to, I’ll buy you a new one. I promise.”
All I want is to just get the hell out of here.
Since the last thing I want to do is go back through the party, I try directing Maggie towards the side of the property so we can just walk around the house.
“You wanna leave?” she all but whimpers. “I was just starting to have some fun.”
“Can’t say the same. And I have a feeling you’ll thank me in the morning.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a party pooper. It’s not that bad—”
As if on cue, a commotion breaks out from inside the house, and Maggie can’t help but be curious.
She pulls out of my hold and heads back to the patio.
Gritting my teeth, I have no choice but to go after her.
We make it to a set of sliding glass doors, but it’s too dimly lit inside to see much of anything.
All I can discern are numerous silhouettes standing in the kitchen.
Everyone inside must be privy to something we can’t see out here, because the whole room gasps.
Before I know it, the full-sheet glass window beside Maggie and me shatters with an ear aching explosion as two bodies crash onto the patio’s quarry tiles.
Some spectators start egging them on, thirsting for a fight, but everyone falls quiet as they get a better look at the combatants sprawled on the ground.
Jase?
And…Trent?
What the everloving Hell?
“I take it this probably isn’t the best time to ask for my phone back?” Maggie mutters, looking just as put off by the scene as everyone else here.
Trent attempts to pull himself up off the ground, but Jase snatches a hold of his ankle, wrenches him back down on his ass, and swings his fists into the asshole’s face.
Trent manages to get in a punch, grazing Jase in the cheekbone.
It’s not an all-out hit, but given his size, any punch from Easton is bound to feel like getting hit by a brick.
But it doesn’t deter Jase. Going through the glass door has left several cuts across his arms, and he looks to have already taken a few punches while inside, so the addition to his injuries is hardly a deterrent.
If anything, it only seems to fuel his rage.
He climbs on top of Trent and continues leveling hit after hit after hit into Trent’s mouth, nose, and eyes.
“Get the fuck off me, you psycho!” Easton hollers, and in seconds, the rest of Trent’s crew and his younger brother race over and haul Jase back.
That doesn’t stop the fists from flying. When Jase can no longer reach Trent, he turns that fury onto the others, and it takes three of Trent’s friends to restrain him.
Trent rolls over on his side and spits out a mouthful of blood, along with a broken tooth. “Hope you enjoy a cell next to your old man, because you just fucked yourself,” he seethes, climbing back to his feet.
With Jase’s arms being held back, there’s nothing stopping Trent from exacting payback. Yet, Jase just bares his own bloodstained teeth, the smile nothing short of feral as he laughs.
Trent charges for him, and before I can process the action, I’m running, all too prepared to throw myself between the two—
But it isn’t necessary.
Trent obviously sees me coming, because he wrenches me aside, and I’m throttled down onto the damp tile ground so hard that the grout breaks the skin on my left forearm.
Yeah, this doesn’t go over too well—not with Jase and not with a certain someone who accompanied me here.
Moving past me in a blur, Reed quite literally tackles Trent, the hit low and hard. I’d say that’s startling enough, but it doesn’t escape my attention that blood stains the front of Reed’s shirt even before he makes contact with Easton.
What the fuck?
Despite not having the build you’d generally associate with the maneuver, Reed’s ferocity more than makes up for it, because he drives Trent’s legs right out from under him, slamming the asshole into the ground.
Not thinking, the guys holding Jase let go of him to pull Reed away, and just like that, all hell breaks loose.
Along with Jase. In seconds, it turns into an all-out brawl, and it’s hard to see who’s hitting who for most of it.
Only once two of Trent’s guys hit the ground can I see Reed grab the younger Easton’s head and throw it down into his awaiting knee.
A loud pop! follows as Trent’s brother drops to the ground like a sack of beaten potatoes, his eyes tearing up from the swift impact.
It’s pretty damn satisfying to see, but not nearly as much as watching Jase pivot out of the way when Trent goes to punch him. Jase grabs his extended arm, rotates his body, and applies the perfect leverage to pull it right out of the socket.
Even better, it’s Trent’s throwing arm.
So much for football this coming season.
The crowd that had been egging on the fight not a moment before suddenly falls silent, as do the rest of us.
Easton’s too busy on the ground, hollering and melting into a blubbering mess, so it doesn’t take any effort for Jase to get a hold of his other arm. He knows exactly what he’s doing, twisting the appendage just enough to hurt but not dislocate.
I don’t know who else can hear, but since I’m still on the ground mere feet away, I don’t miss a word as Jase growls, “You ever lay a hand on her or any girl, I’ll be back to finish the job.
” He starts to apply pressure to Trent’s arm, and there’s a soft, almost indiscernible click , extracting a sound from Easton akin to a whimpering puppy.
“When I’m done, you’ll need someone to help with more than just wiping your ass. ”
Part of me (a very large part) would like for Jase to put this fucker in his place here and now, but then he’d be looking at blatant assault charges. I doubt the police would buy a self-defense argument, given the witnesses can attest to Trent lying helplessly on the ground.
Someone moves up behind me, and Jase doesn’t miss it, charging over with his fists curled.
I can hear the footsteps stagger backward, their owner’s voice unfamiliar. “Jesus, dude! Relax. I was just going to help her up. She’s bleeding.”
Only then does the pain fully register. I look down at my right forearm, finding a fair amount of red liquid running down the length of it.
Even so, I can tell it looks worse than it actually is.
I brush myself off and insist I’m fine, but Jase isn’t having it.
He pulls me to my feet and immediately steers me towards the side of the house.
And like the force of nature he is, Jase’s mere presence has everyone in our way parting for us like the Red Sea.
Maggie follows right behind me, her drunken footsteps causing her to bump into my back several times, but I can’t find Reed amid the crowd.
Jase just says he’ll be fine, unlatching the gate in the fence so we can make our way back out to the street. I spot the old cop car down the block, and, to my surprise, Reed comes out the front door of the house just as Maggie, Jase, and I reach the curb.
And Reed isn’t alone.
The guy in the blue baseball cap follows behind him in a casual stroll, but I spare him no more than a glance, too preoccupied with the girl curled up in Reed’s arms. Her whole body shudders, and as they come closer, I can hear her crying.
My heart somehow manages to defy biology, because it drops into my stomach at the sight.
It’s Aria.
I hadn’t seen or talked to her since she came to my house with her mom and Sienna, but considering the company here tonight, I can safely guess who brought her.
And the fact Jase doesn’t look surprised by what we’re seeing has bile threatening to make its way up my throat. He’s talking with Reed and Mr. Blue Cap, clearly already filled in on the situation, and based on who he was just pummeling his fists into, I can also safely guess the culprit.