“I coded it European,” I said, like he didn’t know that since he’d obviously figured it out.
“Yeah, that was what we got. Fourth time was a charm.”
“Justice,” Deke cut in.
“Put the gun down, Rudy,” I ordered.
“You need to get this guy to back off, Jus,” he returned, indicating Deke with the gun.
“Please, Rudy,” I started moving cautiously forward.
“Justice.” It was a muted roar from Deke, a command not to be disobeyed.
But Deke was bleeding.
And this was my cousin.
I shifted farther forward.
“Fuck,” Deke hissed.
“We’ll talk this out, you need something, we’ll talk it out, see how I can help you,” I lied. No way I was talking shit out with him. He’d sunk this low, like Mav, he had to face the consequences. He could straighten out in jail. “But you have to put the gun down first.”
He turned it to me. “Stop moving, Jus.”
I stopped but he instantly aimed the gun back to Deke.
“You stop moving too, asshole.”
Deke lifted both hands in a placating gesture.
“Fuckin’ shot him, he still charged in like a maniac, took out my boy,” Rudy clipped, attention on Deke, but he was telling me this story.
I didn’t doubt that from Deke.
But I didn’t think on it.
I could see Rudy’s hand shaking and I didn’t think that was a good thing.
Deke started shifting to me.
“I said stop fucking moving!” Rudy screamed.
“Take it,” I said quickly and Rudy’s attention came back to me. “Take them. Get your guy. Both of you get out. Take them. All of them. Let me and Deke walk out of here and you just take them, Rudy.”
Rudy thought about that for a second before his face twisted in the moonlight and he snapped, “You’re not gonna just let me walk outta here.”
I was.
The cops that would be here in about two minutes would not and I needed Deke and me in the safe room when they rolled up and took care of business.
That said, Rudy could have the guitars, the house, I’d cut off my hair and give it to him if that meant Deke was safe.
Safe with me.
“The most important thing in this room to me is Deke. Take the guitars. Take the awards. Take the records. Take whatever you want. Just let us walk away.”
Rudy looked again at Deke and screeched, “Motherfucker! I said stop moving!”
The next moments happened in a flash that still played out like a drawn-out nightmare that lasts for decades, centuries, all of it you know you can’t escape by waking.
Because it was real.
The guy on the floor that Deke had taken out had come to and he was turning. I noticed. I cried out Deke’s name.
Deke moved, fast, to me.
I pulled out his gun.
And the room exploded in ear-splitting noise. Gunshot. Lots of them. So many, I couldn’t hear a thing but the blasts and ringing.
Deke tackled me and I hit the ground with a jarring thud, Deke on me.
He wrested the gun from my grip, rolled, his weight full on me, back to my front, my back pressed to the floor, and he fired.
And fired.
And fired.
I felt his body jerk unnaturally, no thoughts about that except it being the kick of the gun, my hands moving to his waist, holding on.
Then, silence.
Nothing.
“Deke,” I breathed.
He rolled again, to the side, sliding off me.
Other than that, he didn’t move, his back to my side now.
I smelled gunpowder mingled with pine and lay still.
No movement, no sound.
Not from Rudy. His partner.
Not from Deke.
Not from Deke.
I sat up fast, scanning, seeing both other men. Rudy was on his back, not moving with a stillness that was eerie. The other guy was on his side, the same way.
I thought fast and my first thought was, alleviate the danger. Get us safe. So I got up, raced to them, saw the blood spatter on walls, floors, the pools of it growing around their bodies.
I snatched up their guns, ran back to Deke, tossing them in the fireplace as I went.
He was still on his side.
I fell to my knees, put my hands to him and gently rolled him to his back.
His white tee was no longer white.
It was dark.
Covered in blood.
My insides started burning as I moved my hands to him, feeling nothing but warmth too warm, all of it wet, my eyes shifting to his shadowed face.
His eyes were on me.
“I called Chace,” I said, finding the source of some gushing, pressing in, still searching, my eyes not leaving his. “He’s coming.”
“Good, baby,” he whispered, the words faint.
Faint.
Not Deke.
So not Deke.
“Stick with me,” I ordered, finding another source, pressing in. The blood flowed over my fingers and I beat back a whimper, bending close to him. “Stick with me, baby.”
“With…you,” he pushed out.
There seemed to be more sources of blood. Fuck, blood everywhere.
I put my chest to his, covering more area, resting my body on him, putting pressure on.
My face close to his, I saw his eyelids slowly closing.
I put my bloody hands to both of his cheeks, sensing company, someone coming in from the back stealthily.