My gut churned with unease as I hurried down toward Jake. Brett’s eyes flicked to me, his lip curled in a sneer, and Jake looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “Charley, stay back,” he warned, holding a hand up to me.
Something in his voice caught me and I stopped. Returning my gaze to Brett, I saw the light from the house glint off the object in his hand. “Brett, what are you doing?” I whispered, horrified.
He had a large kitchen knife.
“He’s not going to do anything, Charley, he’s just talking with your boy,” Damien assured me with an arrogant smirk.
Brett laughed and stumbled with the movement.
I edged a little closer to Jake whose whole body was tense, ready to move if Brett got it into his dumb head to actually use his weapon. “I think he’s a little too drunk to be handling a blade,” I snapped at Damien. “Take it off him.”
“Don’t,” Brett waved the knife in my direction and Jake moved, blocking me from his view. “Don’t talk like I’m not fuckin’ here. Shurrup. This is between me and your boy.”
“What the hell is going on?” Alex pounded down the porch steps behind me, two of the seniors at his back. He stopped abruptly at my side when he saw Brett was waving a knife, his cheeks paling. “Brett, what are you doing? You’re shitfaced. Give me the knife and stop being an idiot.”
Brett’s already rosy cheeks darkened. “I’m the idjit?” He took a step toward Jake, concentrating so that he didn’t sway this time. “I’m not the one who let thish fucker take my girl. He … he and his family’sh not welcome. Need to know it.” He swung his arm at Jake and I lunged forward only to be hauled back by Alex.
My heart was in my throat as Jake jerked to the left, narrowly missing the knife edge. He backed up a few paces, his hands help up in placation. “Come on, Brett, you’re wasted, man. You don’t want to do this. Put the knife down.” His words were calm, coaxing, but I could see the anger burning in his gaze.
“Pfft.” Brett faltered again, his left arm spreading out for balance as his right one still pointed the kitchen knife at Jake. “You dessherve a cuttin’. Fucked nearly all the girlsh at thish party. Now you’re fuckin’ a prime piece like Charley. Not right. She ain’t yoursh. This town ain’t yoursh. Don’t want fuckin’ Caplinshes in our town. We’ll get you out.” He grinned, an uncontrolled leer. “Then I’ll get your girl on her back and show her how real men fuck.”
Alex’s fingers bit into my arms at Brett’s crude taunt. The anger I felt brewing from him was unfortunately already at the boiling point for Jake. I shook my head, not wanting to distract him by speaking, but willing him to remain calm, to not let Brett rile him.
Even in his drunken stupor, Brett caught the rage in Jake’s face. He laughed. “Yeah, that cut deep, knowing ash shoon ash you’re gone, I’m puttin’ my dick in that—”
“Brett, shut the fuck up!” Alex shouted, pushing me behind him as he took a furious step toward his friend.
“—and she’ll love every minute.” Brett ignored Alex and finished off by springing at Jake again, his right arm swinging upward as he tried to slash him from stomach to chest.
I whimpered, every part of me desperate to stop him but knowing anything I did might make it worse.
Jake slid back on the balls of his feet, dodging the cut, and then he moved too fast for a drunk Brett to compute. He tripped to the side away from Jake, shaking his head, and I watched the muscles bunch in his shoulders with anger as he stupidly and devoid of coordination swung around and ran at Jake. Jake sidestepped him again, making sure he was moving away from Damien and Brett’s other idiots.
Brett couldn’t slow his momentum.
He fell over his own feet, crashing awkwardly onto the patio floor, face planting against it.
Everyone was silent as we waited tensely for his next move.
But he didn’t move. Instead he elicited this strange, muffled whine.
I knew the moment we all realized something was wrong. I felt the shift in the air, the breathless waiting.
“Brett,” Damien said, laughing hollowly, “come on, man, get up.” He strode over to him and bent down, gently pushing Brett over.
People cried out behind me and I heard the guys cursing. Brett stared up at Damien, fear in his eyes, and then he dropped his gaze to the knife lodged in his ribs. “Get it out, man,” he cried hoarsely, tears in his voice, his trembling hands reaching for the blade.
“No!” I shouted, rushing toward him. “Don’t let him pull it ou—”
But it was too late.
Brett yanked out the blade and blood soaked his shirt.
I fell to my knees beside him, ripping off my light jacket and bundling it into a ball I pressed against his wound. He gave a pained grunt but I held it there, keeping pressure on it. Shaking, I shot a command at a pale, trembling Damien. “Call 911!”
He didn’t move, frozen with shock.
I glanced back over my shoulder at Alex who stared down at his friend in horrified disbelief. My eyes flicked to Jake whose hands were in his hair, desolation written all over him. “Jake, call 911!”
He looked like he wanted to puke but he pulled himself together enough to take out his cell.
“Char …”
I turned back to look down at Brett, his terrified eyes on mine, tears sliding down his cheeks. Swallowing hard, I forced my voice to stay calm. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”
Warmth touched my fingertips and my attention fell on my jacket. The blood was soaking through it, the bitter tang of copper making me breathless. His body began to shudder hard beneath my touch and he coughed, little flecks of blood spraying out from between his lips.
“No,” I whispered, panicked adrenaline tightening my chest. Not only was he going into shock but I had the dire suspicion that he’d punctured a lung. “Guys, he’s going into shock.” Looking up at his friends I told them fiercely, “We can’t let him. We need to keep him warm. We need blankets. Give me your jackets now.”
His friends fumbled with their clothes as Jake murmured that the ambulance was on its way.
I heard Alex tell me he’d find blankets. I heard crying and gasps and questions and fear and horror settle in behind me. I ignored it, bowing my head toward Brett, feeling helpless as he shuddered and choked, his eyes begging for help.
The guys tucked their jackets around Brett and Jackson pulled off his T-shirt and handed it to me. I balled it up and quickly replaced my soaked jacket.
Although it tore me up inside to meet Brett’s gaze, I had to. He pleaded with me. Pleaded.
“We’ll get you taken care of Brett. Okay, we’ll get you fixed up.” On my peripheral I saw Damien tuck his jacket around Brett’s sides. “Yeah,” I whispered numbly. “Keep him warm.”
Suddenly Brett’s choked sounds drew quieter to a wheeze. Then to a stutter.
“No,” I shook my head, applying more pressure, “Brett, stay with me. The ambulance is almost here, buddy.”
His eyes were wide as they stared into mine and I knew that no matter what I said, he just couldn’t hold on. The shuddering faltered …
His body relaxed.
His breath … stopped.
The panic was gone from his eyes.
In its place was nothing.
“I’ve got the blankets!” Alex shouted, his footsteps smacking against the wood as he hurried toward us.