“Fuck, I don’t know. Nah, prolly not. He’s just fucked up.”
What the hell did that mean? Injured? High? Was he bleeding out or unconscious? “Can I talk to him?”
“Nah, he ain’t making much sense… too out of it. Look, dude, you gotta come get his sloppy ass. I got ’im away, but they’re gonna come looking for him soon.”
Who? What the hell had Kenny done to have people searching for him?
“Should I call the cops?”
Wrong question.
“Fuck no!” the guy screamed, sounding clear as a bell for the first time since the call started. “Cops show up, I’ll know it was you. You don’t want that, man.”
I grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged as I paced the small locker room. “All right. No cops. Promise. Text me the address. I’m leaving now to come get him.”
“No fucking cops.”
“You have my word.”
“That don’t mean shit to me,” he said before the phone disconnected.
I swear my heart stopped in the seconds when I waited for him to text the address. Just as I was about to dive into a full-blown panic attack, my phone chimed.
“Thank fuck,” I whispered.
“I heard.” Trevor’s voice at the door had me nearly jumping out of my skin. “Go. I’ll take care of your tables.”
I set my phone down and opened my locker, grabbing the first item of clothing I could reach, my sweatpants. “I gotta let Parker know.”
Trevor waved my concern away. “I’ll take care of you. You just concentrate on getting to Kenny. Once you’re home and everyone is okay, let me know, okay? No matter what time it is.”
I glanced up at him from where I’d bent over to tug on my boots. “Thanks, Trev.”
“Of course.”
He left, and I was alone to shove my arms into my jacket. I grabbed my beanie, phone, keys, and wallet, then ran from the room with my jacket flapping open and my boots untied.
Sprinting through the crowded club was never easy, but using the employee entrance made it faster than going through the main entrance.
“What the hell? Where are you going?” Ryder stared at me, incredulous, as I darted past him, fully clothed.
I couldn’t spare the time to stop and tell him, so I waved a hand in the air. “Trevor knows.”
“Are you okay?” he shouted, but I didn’t answer. I just continued running toward the door with visions of Kenny dying rolling through my brain. I couldn’t imagine having to tell my mom something happened to her youngest son. It would destroy her.
My boots crunched over half an inch of freshly fallen snow. There wasn’t time to properly clean off my car, so I used my sleeve to clear the windshield enough to see through it. My heart pulse thundered in my ears as I slipped into the frigid car.
With shaking hands, I shoved the key in the ignition and started the car. The engine turned over twice, then sputtered and died.
Nothing new, but now was not the time.
“Come on. Come on,” I whispered as I tried again.
And failed again.
And again.
And another five times.
