A sheriff’s cruiser rolls to a stop and a young deputy gets out. “Ma’am. Are you okay? We got a call someone may be in danger.”
“I can’t stop him. He’s inside. They’re all inside. The gun went off.” I clench the fabric of my shirt at my chest, gasping for air. I can’t get enough air; my vision closes in on me. “I’m gonna . . . I can’t . . .”
“Whoa, whoa. Take it easy. Here, sit down.” He pushes me gently onto a flat boulder, one of many that separate the designated parking area from the tiny yards of the trailers. “Are you hurt? Who has a gun?”
I shake my head, hanging it low between my arms resting on my parted thighs.
He starts talking into his radio, requesting an ambulance to ‘stage away from the area’ as a precaution. There’s another crash. This time he—Officer Belson his uniform says—hears it, too. He immediately barks into his radio for backup for an ‘audible altercation in progress, possible shots fired.’ “Can you tell me who’s inside?”
“My boyfriend. Julian McKay. Umm, Jayce. I don’t know.” I dip my head again. I can’t breathe. “Please, get him out of there. He has a gun.”
“Your boyfriend has a gun?” He rests his hand on his gun and moves between me and the house.
Behind us another vehicle crunches through the gravel and skids to a stop. I look over my shoulder and stand when I see Taya’s truck. She and a blond man hop out of each door and rush to me.
Officer Belson holds up his hand. “Whoa, stop. You need to stay back.”
“I called her. Can I . . . Can they . . . Am I allowed to go over to them?”
“Yes. Please stand behind the vehicle, but don’t leave.” He watches me until I make my way to Taya and the blonde with her. He then goes to the driver’s side of his police cruiser and speaks into his PA. “Julian McKay, this is the sheriff’s department. If you can hear me, come out slowly with no weapons and your hands where I can see them.”
“Everly, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?” Taya grips my shoulders, her eyes searching mine for answers my mouth can’t seem to give her.
I’m looking at her, but I don’t see her. Behind me, the sheriff’s deputy—Belson, my mind says—continues to call for Julian. The creak of the trailer door pierces my trance. Jerking out of Taya’s grasp, I whip around as Julian walks through the open door, arms above his head. Another patrol car, lights flashing, siren screaming, flies to a halt next to Taya’s truck in a cloud of dust. An ambulance stops beyond the graveled parking area.
The deputy in the second cruiser throws his door open and draws his gun, crouching behind his door. Belson approaches Julian and tells him to kneel on the ground, which he does. Once he’s on his knees, the deputy cuffs him and asks him who else is inside. I can’t hear his words, just the sound of his voice.
“Brandi Keller, come out with your hands in the air.”
“Jay’s mom.” Taya gasps the words beside me, her eyes frozen on the trailer door, hand flying to her gaping lips. “Oh my God, Ever, what the fuck happened?”
“I think we should get back, out of the way. Let’s take her to the ambulance to get her checked out.” This from the blond guy with her.
“I’m not leaving him.” I jerk my arm out of his grasp.
“Mitch, it’s okay. Let her . . .” Taya’s voice trails off behind me as the door opens and Brandi walks out with her arms lifted above her like Julian did moments ago.
The deputy approaches her, telling her to kneel, and cuffs her, too.
My eyes collide with Julian’s. What I see breaks me. He looks over my shoulder. “Mitch, get them out of here.”
Chapter 11
Julian
With my hands on the thin wooden door, I take a breath and turn to face him. I don’t need to look around to see that nothing has changed. Even the smell is the same. Stale cigarettes and beer underneath the overwhelming fake floral scent of a Glade factory. I face him, then take two steps to bring myself within striking distance. I don’t speak and neither does he, but as soon as the hand holding the gun lifts a fraction of an inch, instinct takes over.
Dropping all my weight onto my right foot as I pivot, I bury my left foot in the center of his chest with a sidekick. He flies backwards over the chair he vacated when I entered, toppling over, taking the chair and glass end table with him. A gunshot rings my ears as his body thuds to the floor.
I flinch in reflex as a blur of tangled hair and frail limbs swoops from the kitchen doorway to crouch beside him. “Jayce, what did you do? Why did you do that?”
I don’t answer her. I can’t make words. I just watch, frozen, as the top of her head spins away from me to crouch over his body that’s stillnot moving. His hand feebly shoves hers away. She stumbles back and stands, trying to help him up as he continues to swipe at her efforts. Her hands, slick with blood, wrap around his arm to steady him. He smiles, blood on his teeth and sways as he faces me and says, “That’s no way to greet your old man, now, is it?”
Before I can even decide if I’ll answer him, his eyes roll back and he plummets to the ground with another crash, disintegrating what’s left of the glass and wood end table.
“Julian McKay, this is the sheriff’s department. If you can hear me, come out slowly with no weapons and your hands where I can see them.” Sirens play in the background of his words.
I back away until my body collides with the door. Reaching behind me, I push the handle to open it.
