Page 65 of Wreckage of Us
I don’t see anything suspicious on the screen, so I make my way inside the house, gun at the ready. As soon as I disarm the alarm and close the door behind me, a feeling of foreboding overtakes my senses. I look around carefully but don’t see anything out of order. The place is way too quiet without Becca or Colton roaming around, I realize with a start. I got so used to at least one of them being here all the time, I hate it when they’re not.
I start walking from room to room, clearing the downstairs area, glancing out the window as well to make sure there’s nothing out of the ordinary out there. I see Hot Chick next door doing something on her deck. She’s kind of weird and super protective of her kid, so if she feels safe out there like that, I actually trust her instincts.
I make my way upstairs where the bedrooms are located. I go from room to room, taking the time to check behind the doors, under the beds and inside the closets. You can’t ever be too careful. I learned that the hard way.
Even though I am not finding anything out of place anywhere, my gut still tells me that something is not okay. That feeling saved my ass more than once, so I trust it. Thank God I don’t have to worry about Becca, I think to myself as I head back down the stairs to the lower level.
A very faint noise that sounds like it’s coming from the small hallway off the kitchen area echoes throughout the house. Might as well be a gun shot, that’s how loud it resonates inside my head.
I lift my hand that’s holding the gun, and, with one foot off the step I am currently standing on, I wonder if I should go back upstairs and call for reinforcements or grow some balls and go downstairs. The decision is taken out of my hands when I hear something that sounds like a light footstep on the floor.
“Fuck,” I almost say out loud, then look over the rail. If I jump down from here, I won’t be in the direct path of entrance to the kitchen, which means that whoever is out there won’t be able to just shoot me point blank. If I take off in a run up the stairs, they’ll know I’m on to them, and they’ll ambush me up there. However, being upstairs, barricaded in a room would work best, I decide.
I take a moment too long to weigh in my options. All of a sudden, a shadow moves fast from across the landing, making me point my gun that way. Someone I never imagined I would see again makes his presence known right at the bottom of the steps.
“Shorty,” I manage to say without giving away the shock I feel in my very bones at seeing him in front of me. Alive.
As soon as I say his name, a bullet comes out of nowhere, grazing my hand and making me drop the gun. I watch in horror as it rolls the rest of the steps down and lands at Shorty’s feet.
“VP,” he lets out a maniacal sound that could possibly pass for laughter. He sounds unhinged. Half of his face is scarred all too hell, and his eye socket is at a weird angle.
“Took you long enough,” I finally say, covering with a grin the shock I’m feeling. “I was wondering who could be messing with Puck like that. I didn’t think Bricks was smart enough.”
“Ha,” he points a skinny finger at me. He looks even shorter than before, and I didn’t think that was possible. Probably from the way he is a bit hunched over like that. “You’re so funny, Wrecker,” he cracks up. “I always liked you.”
“Is that why you betrayed me then? And your uncle?” I add, reminding him of Devereaux. “I thought he was your favorite uncle.”
“Eh” he shrugs, “he was, but then he went and fucked up.” His bad eye twitches a bit. He slaps himself hard on the side of his head and the twitching stops.
“How did he do that?” I ask. My cell phone is in my back pocket, and I hope I can keep him talking long enough where I can take him by surprise and run back up the stairs. I doubt he could catch me.
“He promised me I could bring Sugar with me. But then he took it back when he found out she was trying to kidnap your kid back.”
“Why did she want to kidnap my kid?” I can’t believe all this mess if because of the one club whore. It figures it all goes back to her. Why the hell not, right?
“Bricks wanted the kid,” he shrugs. “Said it was his kid. I told her it wasn’t, but…” He shrugs again.
I remember watching in horror and fascination on the cameras set up in the club as Shorty was chasing Mia around, telling her about the fake DNA tests Pops was trying to trick her with.
“Come down here,” he waves me over like we’re the best of friends. “I haven’t seen you in forever, dude.” He starts laughing like a lunatic, hopping from one foot to the other.
“I’m good.” I try not to move from my spot, so focused on the one moment when he’s not paying attention and I can take off in a run.
Shorty’s bad eye starts twitching again, a little more now than before.
“Come down, I said,” he mumbles and slaps at the side of his head.
I am just about to turn around and run up when a bullet lodges itself in the top of the step I am currently standing on, grazing my booth. I look down in surprise, even more so when Shorty starts laughing.
“He is out there with his rifle,” he snickers, and I’m assuming he’s talking about my father. “He wants to kill you.”
“Oh yeah?” I go for casual. Although, I am anything but. “So he sent you in here to smoke me out?” I joke.
“He just wanted to make sure you were alone in here,” Shorty grins at me, and now I notice that he’s missing all his teeth on the scarred side that’s also sagging. “Come on down, dude, or he’ll shoot you dead.”
I am just about to call his bluff when another bullet hits the wall right above my shoulder, grazing my heavy sweatshirt. Had it not been this thick, it would’ve taken skin out for sure.
“It’ll be your head next,” Shorty announces, but he is not laughing or even smiling anymore. “What would Becca say?”
