Zip, Zero, Zilch (The Reed Brothers 6)

It’s melee. Nothing but pandemonium. I hear Paul’s fists flying, and the crunch of knuckles against bones. The grunts of my brothers as they struggle with anyone who would get in Paul’s way.

Suddenly, time freezes. It’s like my mother’s old record player when it would scratch across a forty-five. Screech! The crack of gunshot vibrates the air around us and everyone stops moving.

Paul is the first one to step back. He stands up with his hands in the air. The others do the same.

One of Bone’s guys reaches for his gun and Josh yells out, “Leave it!” He points the barrel of his nine-millimeter squarely at Bone’s sidekick. The guy freezes.

“Well, look who else came to the party.” Bone lies on the floor and laughs. His words gurgle and he turns his head to spit out a mouthful of blood. His face is a bloody mess, but he’s laughing. He rolls his head onto its side so he can look at Josh. Josh reaches down and locks the wheels of his chair with one hand. His other hand is steady.

“Don’t move,” Josh says to the others. He motions for me and my brothers to come toward him with a jerk of his head.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Paul says.

“You first,” Josh responds. He doesn’t take his eyes off Bone’s men. Or Bone. It’s like watching his eyes follow a ping-pong match. “Get out of here.” He jerks his head toward the door again.

“What are you going to do?” Matt asks.

Josh laughs. “I’m leaving with you.”

Suddenly Bone moves, and he lifts a gun from beneath his desk where he fell. I watch as he raises it, and I know exactly when Josh realizes it.

The blast from a gun shot in close quarters cracks hard, like a firecracker inside a glass bottle. The room shivers with the burst of it. Or that might just be my fear. I’m not sure which it is. We all fall to the ground, except for Josh. So I grab him and knock him from the chair, taking him down with us.

The room goes silent. Bone’s men look over at him and then they run out the door. “Oh, fuck,” Paul says.

“That wasn’t what I planned on doing,” Josh says. He shoves my shoulder. “Would you get off me?”

I roll off of him and he adjusts his legs and pulls himself back up into the chair.

“Is he dead?” Paul asks.

I walk over to Bone and see that he has a single shot wound directly through the center of his forehead. “He’s dead,” I confirm. I kick his shoulder just to be sure. I half expect him to reach and grab my leg or something, but he’s dead. Dead as a doornail.

“Fuck,” Paul breathes as he swipes a hand down his face.

Matt is already dialing 9-1-1.

The police show up and it takes hours for everyone to tell their stories. It’s late by the time we get back home. We all go to Paul’s, where the wives and kids are waiting. I swear, when we get there I’m afraid Friday is going to slap the shit out of Paul, after he tried to tell her about it all on the phone.

Then we have to hash over it again. And again.

“I can’t believe that really happened. What would have happened if Josh hadn’t been there?” Friday asks.

Josh is locked up, at least for now. Reagan is already calling her dad to get him to go see him, to see if he needs or wants a kick-ass criminal attorney.

“I don’t know,” Paul says.

“When you jumped over that fucking desk…” Matt growls.

“I know.” He picks PJ up and holds him close. “I know,” he whispers.

I look around the room and see my brothers, all of whom have the women they love supporting them.

“I need to go see Peck,” I suddenly blurt out.

“Okay,” Paul says slowly, drawing the word out so that it lasts forever.

“I’ll give you a ride to the airport,” Pete says.

“I’ll take a cab.” I flash them all one big I love you sign and run out the door. I don’t even stop at my apartment for clothes. I go straight to the airport, where I catch the last flight out for Vegas.

I need her. I need her like she’s the air I breathe.

***

When I get to the stadium, they won’t let me in the staff entrance, so I have to call Logan and have him come get me. He walks up with Kit in his arms, and hands me a pass to hang around my neck. Kit is wearing a pair of noise cancelling headphones on her ears, and she doesn’t appear to like them very much.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Did you talk to Paul?”

He scowls at me. “So Paul went off on him, huh?”

I growl. “The moment he started talking about how he left Dad alive in that freezer, Paul jumped over the desk and grabbed him by the throat.” I shake my head. “Scared the shit out of me.”

“I wish I had been there.”

I’m glad he wasn’t, but I sort of wish he had been. “Do you know where Peck is?”

He walks down a long hallway and through a set of doors. The floor is vibrating with the beat of the music, and my feet shake.

He points onto the stage.

I see her.

She’s sitting on a stool with her sticks in her hand, and she’s playing for all she’s worth. Her hair is wet, and when she shakes her head, drops of water fly in every direction.

She’s wearing a T-shirt with the arms cut out, and I can see her upper arms, toned from years of playing the drums. She may worry about other parts of her body, but she shouldn’t worry about her arms. Or any of the rest of her, as far as I’m concerned, because she’s fucking perfect.