Jordan made a face. “I’m not sick; you heard Tash. I feel much better now that I’ve slept. And yeah, go out and get something for us to eat and stuff for everyone else when they come later. I’ve got nothing in the house.” He kissed Luke. “Go on, seriously. I’m going to take a shower.” With Sasha following at his feet, he trudged up the stairs.
Tash had already put on his jacket. “He’ll be fine, Luke. Give him some space.” He checked his watch. “You’re okay with me leaving, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll run out now while he’s in the shower. It shouldn’t take me longer than half an hour, forty-five minutes tops.” Luke walked Tash to the door. “Thanks for everything.” He held out his hand. “I was wrong about you as well. You’ve been a great friend to both of us.”
Tash shook his hand with a rueful smile touching his lips. “I’m not that nice. If you hadn’t come back, I would have waited until Jordan was no longer in my care, then asked him out.” Laugh lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t worry, though. I know when I’ve lost.”
Well, damn. Give the guy points for honesty if nothing else. Luke closed the door and sprinted up the stairs, calling out to Jordan. “Hey, Prep School. I’m heading out to the store.”
Jordan started the shower and yelled out over the spray. “See you when you get back.”
Sasha sat at the foot of the stairs, looking pathetic. “Okay, I’ll take you with me, but you can’t come in the store.”
Obviously, she didn’t care, as she raced to the front door, stubby tail wagging like an out-of-control metronome. He snapped on her leash, and they headed outside into the darkening night.
Unfortunately everyone else in New York City seemed to have picked the same time and place to shop, so it was closer to an hour by the time Luke escaped the supermarket. As they approached the house, Sasha growled and whined, pulling at her leash.
“Stop it. We’ll be inside in a moment.” Luke, juggling two bags, didn’t have the strongest hold on her leash, and with one strong tug, she pulled free and raced to the house, barking her head off. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he saw her enter through the open front door he remembered locking before he’d left.
“Fuck.” He dropped the bags on the sidewalk, unconcerned about the food spilling out. “Jordan.” He pounded up the steps to the house and ran inside. “Jordan, where the hell are you?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke’s sneakers crunched on the broken glass in the entranceway. He nearly tripped himself as he sprinted up the stairs. Following the sounds of Sasha barking and crying, he skidded into the bedroom and stopped short. “Fuck me, no.” Jordan lay crumpled on the floor, his face battered and bloody. His arms were thrown over his head as if he’d tried to protect himself from further blows. Fortunately, Luke could see the subtle rise and fall of Jordan’s breath in his chest.
“Hey, Prep School, can you hear me?” He dropped to his knees next to Jordan’s too-still body. It was only then that he saw the blood seeping into the rug beneath Jordan’s head, and he froze. “Shit, fuck.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911, reporting the break-in and that they needed an ambulance. The next call he made was to Tash.
“Hey, Luke, what’s—”
“Tash.” There was no time for small talk. “There was a break-in while I was gone. Jordan’s been attacked, and he’s unconscious. I called the ambulance, and they’re on their way.”
“Okay. They’ll take him to Beth Israel, so I’ll meet you there.”
Luke disconnected and listened for the wail of the sirens but heard nothing. “Come on, you fuckers. What’s taking so long?” Luke checked Jordan again and let out a relieved sigh to see he still breathed steadily.
He remembered that Jordan’s friends were coming and knew he’d have to call and tell them what happened. Since he didn’t have Drew’s number on his phone, he picked up Jordan’s cell phone from the floor and scrolled through until he found it. After only a split second hesitation he hit the Call button.
“Hey, Jordan, we were about to leave. What’s up?”
And of course, since this was the worst fucking day of his life in years, Ash had to answer Drew’s phone.
“It’s Luke. I need to speak to Drew.”
“Luke.” Ash’s voice turned sharp, all humor gone. “What’s wrong?”
Fuck it. “It’s Jordan. The house was broken into while I was out, and he was attacked.” Now he heard the sirens. “Look, the ambulance is here; I have to go. They’ll take him to Beth Israel.”
“We’ll meet you there.”
Luke clicked off and ran downstairs. He’d never been so happy to see the red-and-white FDNY EMS truck as he was at that moment. “In here,” he yelled as he watched the two EMS techs jump out. “He’s upstairs.”
After pulling out a collapsible stretcher and a medical bag, they followed him up the stairs to the bedroom. Luke stepped aside as they took over. One of the guys, heavily tattooed and bald, knelt at Jordan’s feet; the other, lanky with a thin goatee, stood by his head.
“Is he on any medication that you know of?” This from the tattooed EMS worker, whose name tag readCaruso.
“Yeah. He started taking flumazenil this morning. He’s being treated for Xanax dependency.”
“Okay. Anything else? Who are you, a friend?” The guy with the goatee, Hernandez, was taking notes. “Were you the one who called it in?”
