Page 16 of Bulletproof

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “I don’t think so.”

“C’mon, kid. Whatever happened⁠—”

“I was almost killed, you son of a bitch!” he roared at the man, who, even though he was bigger, took a step back. “And now I dunno what the fuck to do.”

He was scared and panicky and ready to start hyperventilating at any minute. I knew the signs. I had, in the past, had similar reactions.

“Excuse me,” I said to the man. “Eddie’s brother.”

“What about him?”

“Could you call him and tell him to meet him here?”

“Why would I do that? The man doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“He’s gonna wanna know what just happened to his baby brother.”

“What happened?” he asked warily.

I explained fast, and he nodded, his heavy hand dropping down onto my shoulder as he listened to my halting explanation.

“Who are you?”

“Jory Harcourt.”

I smiled at him, watching him calm—shoulders going first, dropping, the release of breath, and then the stance relaxing. I could do that sometimes when I tried—calm people. My brother said it was a gift. Sam assured me it was misery waiting to happen.

“How do you know Eddie?” he asked at the same time he dialed and put the phone to his ear, half his attention on me, the rest on listening.

“We go to the same gym,” I lied smoothly.

He nodded, hand tightening as he looked away from me. “Cris, it’s Paz. I’m gonna bring Eddie by your place. We had some trouble at Peretti’s.”

I watched him, saw his jaw tighten, observed the worry slide over him, creasing the space between his eyebrows into a scowl. Whatever the man on the other end of the line had said was not good.

“Trouble!” Eddie yelled suddenly, snatching the phone away from the man—his guardian—and yelling into it. “Cris, Miller’s men nearly put me on the fuckin’ pavement! If it wasn’t for my buddy, Jor— no! I was only talking to Nina at Duvall’s, and she⁠—”

“Gimme the goddamn phone,” the bigger man growled, taking it back as I took a step away.

I wanted to go—I needed to go. I had that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that everything was going to go really bad, really fast. I needed to inject some normal into the situation from somewhere.

Eddie grabbed at his bodyguard’s phone, and I took that moment to turn and leave the patio, then walk quickly back out and rejoin the party. Seconds later, I was absorbed by the crowd, across the room, and closing in on the front door. I scanned the space fast, looking for Franklin, one last glance so I could say I checked, and then bolted for the door. I had a very strongly developed sense of danger, and at that moment, it felt as though there was a red light going off over my head.

Outside in the hall, I took a breath.

“Jory.”

Turning, I found Eddie.

“Where are you going?”

We both heard the yell at the same time, saw the men spilling out of the elevator. We both saw the blue windbreakers with the big yellow word POLICE in bold letters. I grabbed his arm, yanked him forward, and started down the hall. At the door that led to the stairs, I hit the panic bar, and it swung open. He took a step to go down, but I knew about these things and yanked him back, tugging him after me to go up. As we were almost through the door on the floor above us, we heard people coming up the stairwell. Eddie looked down over the railing, but I shoved him forward, opening the door to push him through.

“What the fuck was all that?”

“I have no idea,” I answered as I rounded on him. “Who the hell are you guys?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped, squinting, and then shrugged.