Down on My Knees Page 6

  “Only a few hours. They stitched you up in the ER, then sent you up here for the transfusion and observation. More than likely, you’ll get to go home later this morning,” Mallory responds, and we all laugh. In our experience, you never get out when they tell you. It’s usually hours later.

  “Has anyone called Derek?” Kristen inquires.

  We shake our heads no as guilt settles into my stomach. Damn, I’m a crappy friend. I never even thought about calling him. Guilt flashes across Mallory’s face, and I’m guessing it didn’t cross her mind either.

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way. He’ll be home in a few days, and there’s no point in telling him right now. Can one of you stay with me when I get out?”

  “Yes, of course,” we both say at the same time, then chuckle. “What are friends for?” Mallory continues, squeezing Kristen’s hand.

  A light knock on the door jerks my attention from Kristen. Denny’s bulky frame blocks most of the light from the hall.

  “Okay if I come in?” His whispered question floats across the room before he looks over at Kristen, eyes widening when he sees her. “Oh, you’re awake. Good. I have questions to ask if you’re up for it.” Kristen tilts her head in affirmation as he walks in, then repeats the same story she told us.

  “But I know that blonde from somewhere. I just can’t place her,” Kristen says, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  “It’s okay. It’ll probably come to you. We’ve already requested the surveillance video from outside the parking lot. You need to stay out of parking lots, girl. It’s where you seem to find all the trouble. I don’t think I’ve ever had to request so many videos in a short amount of time.”

  “You haven’t mentioned this to Derek, have you?” Kristen asks, hands worrying the thin, white blanket covering her.

  Denny shakes his head no. “Please keep it that way. I’ll tell him when he gets home. It’s only a few days. No need for him to worry.”

  “I think you need to let him know, but he won’t hear it from me.” He gives Kristen’s hand a quick squeeze, then flashes us a wink and a grin before walking out the door.

  “That is one hunky cop. I might need to commit a crime, so he can use those cuffs on me,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

  Kristen’s response of, “Maybe Isaac will have some cuffs for you,” has me blushing to the roots of my hair.

  “Very funny. Now, how about we leave so you can get some sleep. You can barely keep your eyes open. We’ll be back in the morning, and I already let Dr. Daniels know what happened. I ran into her downstairs in the cafeteria, and she said for you to take the rest of the week off.”

  The next morning as I walk into Kristen’s room, the nurse exits with a smile on her face. Kristen’s face lights up when she sees me bringing in goodies.

  “A venti caramel macchiato and an omelet from the grill downstairs. Made with fresh eggs. No powder in sight.”

  “God bless you,” she replies as I hand her the cup of hot coffee. Wheeling the table over, I place the Styrofoam container down along with the utensils. Kristen opens the lid and digs in with a moan.

  “Well, I couldn’t in good conscience let you starve. Mallory will be here shortly. She was gonna stop by your apartment and grab you some clothes and stuff.” She nods as she continues to eat, and I turn on the TV to find something passable to watch while we wait for Mallory to bring her clothes.

  “You think she’s okay?” I ask as I watch Kristen stumble to her room, just waiting for her to fall into the wall and pop open the stitches in her side.

  We returned to Kristen’s apartment earlier today after she was released from the hospital, much to the opposition of Mallory. Kristen argued that it was fine since she had her new alarm system installed and she would be more comfortable at home. I don’t blame her there, but I’m a little leery myself about being here after everything that’s happened with her stalker. I mean, it wasn’t long ago she had her car vandalized in the middle of the night right in front of her door for goodness sake.

  The credits start to roll for The Hangover as Kristen returns to the room, lays on the couch, and promptly passes out. That last pain pill really did her in. I reach for another slice of pizza while Mallory pops in the sequel. As soon as my hand touches the cardboard box, the lights go out.

  “What the hell?” Mallory asks. “It’s not storming or anything. Why is the power out?”

  Glancing out the window, I see lights shining in the next complex, and the street lights are a beacon. “The apartments across the courtyard still have lights. Is it just us?” I ask, a bad feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

  “It’s wrong is what it is. Let me wake up Kristen. We can head to my place.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Me and you both, sister. Round up the stuff we need, and I’ll get her moving.”

  I locate my bag by the chair as I hear Mallory’s soft voice talking to Kristen. There’s rustling just before the light from Kristen’s phone brightens the room. Grabbing Kristen’s medication from the table, I throw them in my bag before the light disappears as Kristen walks into her bedroom. The sound of breaking glass makes my heart pound in my chest, and all I can think is we need to get the hell out of here. Hurrying to the front door, I wait impatiently for Mallory and Kristen to walk out of her room. An eternity seems to pass before I make out their shadowed forms maneuvering around the furniture. I send up a small prayer they don’t hit any of the items littering their path, or alert the people outside that we’re trying to get away. At the last second, I open the door as the girls hurry out and close it behind me with a soft click. Kristen’s already buckled into the passenger seat, and I slide across the seat behind Mallory and buckle my belt as the car starts with a throaty purr. Once we clear the complex, I let out the breath I was holding and contemplate whether we need to call the police now to report the break-in or wait until we are safely ensconced in Mallory’s apartment. Kristen’s phone rings from the front, but I tune out what she’s saying. A weird feeling comes over me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, compelling me to look over my shoulder. At first, all I see is darkness since Mallory’s complex is not in a heavily populated area. The clouds part slightly, and my eyes widen at the shadow of a large vehicle speeding toward us.

  “What the fuck? Mallory, there’s a truck headed right for us!” Kristen screams out.

  I watch, terrified, as the truck barrels down on us. The truck clips the back end of the car, and I swear Josh is smiling from inside the cab before the car rotates, catches the side of the embankment, and flips over and over. My head fills with the screams of my friends, breaking glass, and crunching metal. The car stops with a bone-jarring thud at the bottom, the seatbelt the only thing keeping me from falling onto the roof. The blood rushing to my head pounds in my ears, making my head hurt. Or maybe I hit it at some point in the rollover. That’s logical. Someone is faintly yelling, and I realize Kristen’s phone is still connected to her call with Derek, but the dim light from the phone makes me realize it’s too far away for me to grab.

  “Derek!” I yell out, unsure of what I need to do, and I swear Isaac’s voice is calling my name. Looking up, I catch Mallory’s gaze in the rearview. The relief from knowing she’s alive is overwhelming, and I must hold back the sobs building in my chest.

  “Thank God, Mal. Are you okay?”

  “I think so. What about Kris?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer, concerned. I can’t really see anything but Kristen’s bloody hair.

  Mallory reaches a trembling hand toward her rearview and pushes the illuminated emergency button. Quickly, she’s connected with an operator. As she’s describing the events, movement in the rearview catches my attention.

  “Mallory! Someone’s coming!” I cry out. The question is friend or foe? Is Josh coming to finish us off, or is it someone who witnessed the crash coming to lend a hand? Knowing our luck, I’m guessing the former.

 
; Footsteps crunch on the ground as I watch boots round the car. Glancing over at Kristen, I see her move, and hope she’s waking up, but realize she’s not moving, she’s being pulled from the car.

  “Stop it, you asshole! You’re gonna hurt her!” I scream out, trying to get my seatbelt unbuckled. God, if he gets her out of the car, who knows what the psycho will do. Finally, the catch releases, and I land on the roof with a groan, pain shooting through my shoulder and arm. Fuck that hurt. As soon as I try to scoot toward the window, my ankle feels as though a knife is stabbing through it. Breathing through the pain, I crawl to my broken window. Small pieces of glass scrape my arms. The metal is compressed where my window was, and I squeeze myself through the opening, my leg catching on something as a searing pain lances through me. A hiss escapes my mouth before I can contain it. I don’t want to alert him that I’m on the move. Like I know what the hell I’m going to do when I get over there.

  As I crawl by Mallory’s window, I stifle my scream when someone grips my throbbing ankle. Grabbing her hand, I start to pull her out, but the pain etched into her face makes me hesitate. When I see the gun in her other hand, I know her pain is inevitable. She may be the only hope Kristen has. As soon as she clears the broken window, she raises the gun.

  “Hey, you fucker! Drop my friend,” Mallory screams out before the bark of the gun breaks the stillness of the night. I lie there on the unforgiving ground, my heart pounding out of my chest.

  “Stay there. I’m going to check on Kris. It looks like the cavalry is on its way,” Mallory says as she rounds the car, gun at the ready. I wait with bated breath for her to tell me something, anything.

  “She’s breathing,” she yells from the other side of the car. “But she’s bleeding pretty badly. I can’t tell from where. It’s pooling underneath her. I can’t move her by myself. I think my wrist is broken.”

  “And Josh?” I ask, fear that he got away pounding in my veins.

  “I don’t care about that fucker, but I don’t think he’ll make it with that hole in his head.” At her answer, I can’t help but smile. I note the sirens in the distance, the sound getting louder with each beat of my heart. Thank God.

  Isaac

  “You cock sucking motherfucker!” Brett’s scream echoes across the stage. He’s in Derek’s face, flushed red with rage, fists clenched.

  What the hell is going on now?

  “How long have you been fucking my girl, Derek? How long have you been betraying me? Have you been fucking her all along?” His chest heaves up and down.

  “She’s not your girl anymore, and that’s on you. We didn’t get together until a few months ago, so don’t you fucking dare insinuate she’s been doing anything wrong. You were the cheater in your relationship. You fucked up the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  Wait a minute. Back the fuck up. Kristen and Derek? My mind reels with the knowledge that they hooked up.

  Brett charges at Derek with a roar, fist in the air, murder in his eyes. Jason and I rush forward as Brett throws a punch to Derek’s cheek. For a second, Derek stands there before reacting, landing a left hook that sends Brett staggering back, allowing Jason to wrap his beefy arms around his chest. I place a hand on Derek’s arm, but he’s not making any moves toward Brett.

  “I fucking trusted you, and you took her away from me. Why? Why would you do that? You’re my friend! My brother!” The betrayal in Brett’s voice is tangible. I close my eyes against the pain that bleeds through in his words.

  Brett shrugs off my hand, and I ease back knowing he’s not going to do anything rash.

  “I didn’t take her from you, Brett. You lost her all on your own. We never meant to hurt you, but we love each other.” Regret fills his gaze as he stares Brett in the eyes.

  Jason eases his grip on Brett before completely letting go, then stands at the ready in case he decides to reach for Derek again.

  “Fuck you,” Brett spits out before stalking off the stage. Derek runs his hand down his face, remorse coating his features as he watches the man he’s been closest to for years walk away.

  “You’re gonna have a black eye, man. We need to get you some ice, and we need to track down Brett,” I say as Derek rubs his jaw.

  “Why do we need to track down Brett? Why are y’all not doing your soundcheck?” Brian asks as he heads on stage. “What the fuck happened to you, Derek?”

  “Brett happened,” he replies, despondent.

  “Fuck. What set him off?” Brian asks before understanding lights his face. “Found out, huh? Told you this might blow up in your face. I’ll get security looking for him. We have two hours before those doors open.” With that, he walks off stage.

  “Wait, let me get this straight, you and Kristen are together? Since when? And how the hell did you keep this from us?” I look at Derek before my gaze swings to Jason. Jason looks in the opposite direction, a hand running across the back of his neck.

  “Fuck, Jason. You knew?” I ask, incredulous. “Brian obviously knows. I guess it was just Brett and me outta the loop. I can understand why you left him out, but why me?”

  “We hadn’t planned on anyone knowing for a while,” Derek breathes out. “We wanted Brett in a better place before we told him. We were worried it might send him off the deep end. Jason found out by accident.”

  “Jesus, what a clusterfuck of epic proportions.” I place my hands on top of my head before taking a deep breath. “We need to find him and get this concert over with. Then we can get all this straightened out.”

  At least, I hope we can.

  We finish soundcheck without Brett, and the nervous energy from the group is palatable. After scouring the surrounding area, Brian returns to inform us he was canceling tonight’s show. I hate that we’re going to disappoint the fans, but it also means I’ll get to spend some time with Camryn tonight…even if it is on the phone.

  Derek walks away from Jason and me, putting his phone to his ear.

  “What the hell are we going to do, Jase?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  Urgency takes over Derek’s tone, drawing our attention. “Kris? Babe?” There’s a beat of silence before Derek starts screaming Kristen’s name over and over, tears streaming down his face.

  What the fuck is happening?

  Jason rushes forward, taking the phone from him. Derek seems frozen, his face a mask of horror.

  “I can hear Camryn talking…and there’s Mallory. I still haven’t heard Kris, though. Camryn said someone’s walking toward them. Motherfucker, it’s that fucker Josh! He hit them. I don’t know what he’s doing, but Camryn’s cussing him out.” As soon as he says Camryn’s name, my stomach knots as fear overtakes me, but at least my girl’s fighting.

  Jason puts the phone on speaker, as we listen, helplessly, as the girls struggle. When the gunshot rings out, I swear my heart stops. Jason claps Derek on the back, stating, “I think Mallory shot him, but I’m not sure. I can’t make out what’s happening, but I can hear their voices.” Pride fills his voice. Sirens sound in the distance, and I can breathe again.

  Hanging up, Jason throws the phone back to Derek, who fumbles with it before latching on. “Call your cop friend. I’m gonna find Brian and tell him we need to get the hell home right now,” Jason calls over his shoulder as he hurries out of the room.

  It took an eternity for us to drive from Tulsa to Dallas. Standing outside the heavy wooden door separating me from Camryn, I try to slow my breathing. The adrenaline coursing through me is slowly subsiding, and the weariness is seeping in. I lift the lever, and the door opens with a nearly silent swish. A nightlight near the floor lights the room in a dim ray as the whir from the pump controlling her intravenous fluids plays in the background. Looking at the bed, I can barely make out her form lying under the white blanket. I make my way to her side, her dark auburn hair stark against the white pillow. Her dark lashes fan her cheeks. The only mar on her beautiful face is the angry, red gash on her right cheek held together by blue
stitches. Pulling a chair from the corner, I sit at her bedside and grasp her fragile hand in mine. I place a kiss on the cool skin, and send up a prayer thanking God she’s alive.

  A footstep squeaks on the linoleum behind me, and I look over my shoulder.

  “Ah, I was told someone would be in here visiting,” the woman whispers. With the light at her back, all I can make out is her small, feminine frame.

  “Yeah…” I pause to clear my throat. “I got here as fast as I could. How is she?”

  “We have her resting comfortably. She has a hairline fracture in her ankle and that laceration on her face. She’s being medicated for the pain and was given a sedative.”

  “A sedative?”

  “She was a little worked up when they brought her into the emergency room. They needed to calm her down, so they could do the x-rays of her ankle. Poor thing. After all she’s been through, I would need something to relax me too,” she murmurs, looking over at Camryn with pity.

  “She’s tough. She’ll make it just fine.”

  “I’m sure. Do you know if she has anyone we need to call? We couldn’t locate any information for her,” she says, her eyes moving from Camryn to me.

  Shit, I don’t even know her parents’ names.

  “No, but I know someone who might. Let me make some calls.”

  Damn it, I really don’t want to call Adam, even if he can help. Jealousy is a nasty bitch, and I don’t want to be beholden to her ex. I text Derek, and it’s only a second before he sends me the contact info I need. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale before manning up. He picks up on the second ring.

  “Hello?” Comes the sleep-roughened voice over the line.