Jagged Edge

I press the trigger and fire. The bullet catches the man in the chest, and he stumbles back, his dark eyes widening. There’s something of Jason about them—or maybe not. I don’t want to think about it as I fire again, driving him out of the cubicle.

Away from Jason.

More bullets slam into the cubicle, and I step back, crouching down to shield Jason—as if bullets can’t go through me—but I don’t have time for anything else.

Then the front door slams open and the back-up is here. The Brotherhood and the Damage people burst inside from the front, while the cops push in from the back, as planned. Another gunshot cracks somewhere inside the shop, then another, and after that it’s just yelling and cursing.

Until my brother and Jesse Lee burst inside the cubicle and drag us both to our feet, only to pull us into a group hug so tight it hurts.

“God, you’re both okay, thank God,” Ocean is saying over and over, and Jesse is cursing quietly under his breath, ruffling Jason’s hair.

We’re okay. I’ve never shot a man before, and I think I might throw up, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat if someone threatened Jason.

It strikes me then that this time it’s really over. No fairytale endings, no miracle cures.

This ending is bloody and real.

Life is back to normal.

Okay, that’s a lie, but we’re getting there. With everything going down, Soul Stain left to go back to Chicago, putting off the techniques and ideas exchange for the moment, the guest rooms they occupied given over to Jason’s gang.

Speaking of Jason… He’s sitting right beside me, behind the desk of Collateral. He has his leg with the cast propped on a chair and my tablet in his hands, job hunting. I’ve told him to take it easy, heal, rest. Think about what he wants to do with his life.

He said he is thinking, and resting and healing and all that, but he can’t sit around doing nothing, or he’ll go stir-crazy. Plus, he wants to start contributing to the rent and other expenses. He’s always been stubborn, and proud.

And I understand how he feels. He’s not a rent boy anymore, and he doesn’t want to be a kept man, either. Makes perfect sense. I just make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard. He tends to do that, between sessions with a social worker, a psychologist, police interviews, and visits to the hospital.

My old man is in jail, awaiting trial. He named names in the MC, and also in the Chicago Mob, though as expected, despite his bragging and posing, he’s small fry and doesn’t know anything important.

Meanwhile, my mom has gone AWOL, and not even Dad can tell us where she is. Looks like she took his money and left. Serves him right, that son of a bitch.

As for shooting my boyfriend, he claims that Jason pulled a knife on him, surprising him. As if that makes it all right. The thought of him shooting Jason, the image of him lying in his own blood, or cowering in the cubicle, bullets flying past us… this is the stuff of my worst nightmares.

The rage hasn’t left me, and it ignites every time I remember all that. I’m trying to work through it, though, to let it go. For myself.

For Jason.

At least, I’ve kept him alive. I’m not infallible by a long shot, but I kept my promise to him. I protected him when Simon came for him. And it steadies me, even if I now have new nightmares added to the ones with Livvy, nightmares where I shoot Simon over and over and he keeps coming at me and Jason.

He’s dead, I have to remind myself. It’s over.

“Hey, guys, we’re leaving,” Mayleen says, snapping her neon-green gum, and slinging an arm over Josie’s bony shoulders. “See ya tomorrow.”

They’re also trying to figure out what to do with their lives, but Mayleen says she got an apprentice job at a nearby hairdresser’s lined up. Everything will be okay.

Jason nods affectionately at them. “Be careful.” He looks happy as he watches them go, and it makes me wanna kiss him so badly.

Just then the door of the shop chimes as it opens and a certain blond in a long old-fashioned gabardine makes his way inside.

“Greetings.” Corey gives a general wave, then winks at me and heads my way. “How’s my favorite guy doing today?”

Jason snickers from his perch on the chair. “Adam’s in the back.”

Oh yeah. Forgot to say that one of Jason’s friends is currently working here, at Collateral Damage. Adam is staying temporarily at Rafe’s house, and his job is to clean the shop and bring fancy coffees and cupcakes from a nearby coffee shop in the mornings and afternoons.

He’s also Corey’s new obsession.

“I thought you’d gone back to Chicago,” I tease him. I know full well he came back, and who for. He’s been visiting the shop every day, and has been driving Jason and his friends to the hospital and to the psychologist’s office when I can’t do it. “What happened with that guy you were in love with, Soul Stain’s newest tattoo artist? That Ethan guy?”