Too Far Gone (In Too Deep #2) (10 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Jake

It was Jackson’s nonstop calling that had buzzed my phone off the table.  I had four voicemails, six missed calls and a dozen texts by the time I picked up my phone.

Fucked up big I need your help

I cant find lara Call me back

If you see Dane fucking shoot him between the eyes

Ignore the voicemails just call me back asap brother

Clearly, it was urgent.  But I opted to take a long, hot shower with Lara and cook breakfast before leaving to meet Jackson at his apartment, leaving Lara in mine with a phone and my AmEx.

By the time I got to Jackson’s duplex, he was mess.

“Fuck, man, I barely remember what the fuck happened last night but I fucked up, brother, I really messed up fucking bad this time,” he said, his voice hoarse and his entire appearance exuding chaos.  His hair was matted, sweaty and his shirt was askew.

“Jackson, sit down and tell me what happened.”

Jackson stumbled backward till he found the kitchen stool.  “I don’t know, I lost it at Lara yesterday.  She couldn’t understand why I’d fuck Audra and fuck it, that’s not the important part.”

“What happened with Dane?”

“I called that motherfucker cause they took me to the precinct for some fucking bar fight and I guess I let him come back to the house with me.  I don’t even fucking remember.  But I showered, I passed out and when I woke up, he and Lara were gone.  And I had a bad fucking feeling because the floor was wet from the kitchen to the door, the drawers were open, her phone was still in the room.  And the concierge kept calling and when I picked up he asked if everything was okay because he saw Lara running out the door like someone was after her.”

I didn’t have to fake my wrath.  “Dane did something to her.”

Eyes wild, looking at everything but me, Jackson nodded.  “We looked at the security tapes – he fucking cornered her in the elevator and tried to take her clothes off and I guess she jabbed some hairpin or something at him because she got away but now I know she’s somewhere scared as shit and blaming me for letting the sick son of a bitch into our house in the first place.”

I shook my head at the thought of what a shameless piece of human shit Dane was.  I had every intention on finding him and slamming his fucking head into the ground but I couldn’t think about that now.  I had questions I had to ask.  “Did you go to Dane? Or call him? Did you ask what the fuck he was thinking?”

“Are you kidding me? I told him I was going to put a fucking bullet in his brain.  I left him probably ten voicemails before he texted back and said that Lara had come to him right after Labor Day, all secret or whatever, she went to his office and then she went to meet him at some bar downtown so he could tell her all about Gabrielle and the affair.” 
Shit. 
My mouth straightened into a line as I watched Jackson’s lip curl.  I wasn’t sure what he was going to do or say next.  My eyebrows lifted when he laughed like a maniac.  “I mean is that scumbag shit for real? He’s worse than Sawyer when it comes to going after Lara.  I don’t give a shit what he says.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“I don’t believe the fucker that she doesn’t love me,” Jackson snarled, spit flying.  “If Lara went to Dane to squeeze out whatever information he had about Gabrielle, it’s kind of fucking proof that every move I make tears her up inside.  Of course she fucking loves me, that stupid son of a bitch.”  His shoulders heaved as he breathed loudly.  “I just need to find her now.  I think I might’ve screwed up one too many times now.” 
You think?
I had to hold in a bitter laugh as I watched Jackson thrust both hands into his hair, shaking his head like a menace.  “I fucking swear to Christ, man.  I swear to Christ if she tries to fucking leave me...”

As I glared, watching Jackson’s hysteria, I thanked God that Lara was safe in my house, wrapped in a blanket on my couch with a book and a full French press.  Because Jackson was gone.  Any shred of the Jackson I’d grown up with had melted away with this madness.  He was crying now, tearing at his hair, shaking his head and muttering a mile a minute about how much he fucking loved her.

“She should’ve called.  She should’ve at least fucking called.  It’s like she wants this.  She wants me to lose my fucking mind.”

“Jackson.”  I went to pour him a glass of water.  “She has no phone and she was attacked last night by Dane fucking McNulty.  She’s probably rattled so don’t make this about you.  She probably doesn’t even think you’re up yet.”

Just a few logical points and Jackson calmed right down, going from sixty to zero or at least twenty as he drank the water.  He was definitely out of it.

“Look, she’s going to turn up eventually.  It’s Lara. She’s not the spontaneous type and she hates inconveniencing people. Right now, she’s probably just scared because the last time she was home, you weren’t awake to protect her from Dane.  But once she’s sure he’s gone, she’ll come back.  I’m sure of it,” I said, casually checking my phone.  “Still no runs in the eighth, by the way,” I said, pretending to check scores when I was really texting Lara. 
He’s going insane right now. Worried about you. Talking him down. Will cue you soon.

Jackson sniffled like a kid.  “What?”

“Yankees-Rangers.  Scoreless in the eighth inning.”

“Damn.”

That was easy.  “Wanna watch?”

All it took was two beers and the game on the flat screen for Jackson to start sounding like himself again.  “I’m sorry, man, I’m just…” He shook his head at himself as the Yanks went into the ninth.  “I don’t know who I can trust anymore.  Dane’s a piece of shit, Sawyer’s a rat and I have to censor myself around Caleb now that he’s engaged to that fucking princess.  It just feels like the walls are closing in on me.  Everyone’s turning into someone else.  So I can’t fucking lose Lara, man.  She’s my constant.  I’m fucking nothing without her.”

“Then treat her better,” I said, immediately wondering why the hell I did.  It didn’t matter if Jackson treated her better at this point.  And the point of my visit was to get onto more deviant topics, like his sex tape with Gabrielle.  The plan was still for me to see if he still had that other phone.

“You’re right,” Jackson nodded, looking into his hands.  At that point, I texted Lara her cue.

Okay. Go check in now.

She didn’t reply but within forty-five minutes, her name lit on Jackson’s phone.  He jumped out of his seat.  “Holy shit,” he murmured, opening the text.

“What is it?” I asked, despite knowing well what the picture and the message would be.

“Oh my God,” he exhaled, laughing as he smacked a hand to his forehead.  “She’s at that place.  This little boutique hotel that she goes to with Sloane sometimes.  They have an all-women’s spa or some shit,” he muttered hastily before reading the text.  “’Awake yet, babe? Not sure if we should try to call the police but Dane went insane last night while you were asleep and I’m sure there’s security footage from the elevators.  Please don’t do anything irrational yet, we need to take care of this with the authorities.  I didn’t know where to go in the meantime so I checked in here.  About to go for a massage.  Need to calm my nerves.  Won’t have my phone but text me when you get this so I know I can come home.’”

Exactly as we planned it.  I watched as Jackson let out the longest groan before collapsing back onto the couch.

“Holy shit!” he laughed, leaning his head back before snapping it up to look at me.  “Dude.  She’s fine.  She’s fucking going for a massage.  Thank Christ.”  He shook his head like a dog shaking off water.  “Hey.  If she’s pampering herself right now we deserve to go for drinks, right?” He clapped his hand together and sprung to his seat.  Fucking Jekyll and Hyde.  “How ‘bout we go to Muse Room in the Lower East Side? That’s where Lara met Dane but I hear they’ve got girls walking around half naked over there.  You down?”

I stared at my brother.  What the fuck kind of transformation did I just watch? As Jackson went to grab his jacket, I wondered how often he fell into these dark places where he shook and cursed and muttered like man you couldn’t talk down from the ledge.  Not long ago, he basically promised to make Lara sorry if she ever tried to leave.  Now, he was grinning and talking about which lounge in the city had the hottest waitresses.

“Wait, you don’t want to see who wins the game?” I asked.  I was trying to keep us at the apartment.  If the phone still existed, it was hidden somewhere in the duplex, and there was no getting to it at some bar in the LES.

“Fuck the game.  A walk-off homer isn’t going to take the edge off of my shit right now, I need a fucking drink.”

“Didn’t you have enough last night?”

Jackson stopped in the middle of putting on his coat, a smile still frozen on his face.  “You really wanna be a little bitch to me right now?” he asked in that voice that was only half-kidding at best.

I heaved a sigh.  Then again, maybe getting him drunk around half-naked women was the right step toward watching the Gabrielle video.

“Alright.”  I clapped my hands together and got up from the couch.  “Let’s go, fucker.”

Chapter Twenty

Jake

The first round of drinks and Jackson’s pervert side was already coming out.

“You’re kidding me
.  You’re
pre-med at Baruch?” he teased our brunette waitress, who was bursting right out of her black lace corset.  “Well, let me know when you become a doctor so I can come to you for my exams.”

“Haven’t heard that one before,” she smirked.

“So how old does that make you?” Jackson asked, rattling the ice in his Old Fashioned.

“Nineteen.”

Like Gabrielle.

“Christ.”  Jackson shook his head slowly as he raked his gaze over her body.  “I could be your uncle.”

Or the guy who has you killed.

She shrugged and gave a wicked little grin.  “Everyone’s got a dirty uncle.”

They both laughed so I forced myself to join.  This was it.  I was running out of time to finally get to the video on that phone.  If it was there, I needed it.  Fast.  We had a name now.  Nick Seaver.  Whether or not it was real, it was one he did business with, and while that wasn’t tangible evidence of anything, a phone was.  There was no way Jackson hadn’t disconnected it by now, but if technology was good for anything, it was the ability to trace back things that had been deleted.

So I gave my best lewd grin when the waitress turned her flirtation to me.

“So.  A surfer and an architect.  Where do I find more guys like you?” she asked, sitting on the edge of our couch.

Jackson kicked me.  “Well, he’s single so look no further,” he said, grinning as he watched her eyes light up.  “So, what’s the deal? I know you girls aren’t strippers but you’re barely wearing any clothes so does that mean we can order a lapdance?”

Jesus.  I watched the waitress eye me, leaning forward so that she almost popped out of her top.  “No, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be happy to give one.”

“Well, no one can see us behind this wall,” Jackson pointed out.  “Why don’t you show us what you got?”

I laughed.  “Don’t listen to him.”

“Why not?” she frowned.

“Yeah, why fucking not?” Jackson demanded.  “Just sit back and enjoy the show, asshole.”

Before I could do even that, the waitress was on me, straddling my lap and forgetting all about the dancing part.  Unless grinding against my package counted.  I swallowed, reminding myself to act fucking natural.  I wanted nothing to do with this but I wouldn’t show it.  So I glanced at Jackson, returned his wide grin, and looked up at the waitress who was the same age as Gabrielle.  My heart pounded through my chest as she began kissing my neck, working her way up to my jaw till her lips were pressed against mine.

Fuck.

I ripped them away.  Her big eyes flashed at me for all of a second before I grabbed her waist and pulled her close again, smashing my lips against hers.  Jackson had been halfway through a “
what the fuck
” but now he was back to laughing, clapping, cheering me on.

“Yes.  No boundaries, brother.  No fucking boundaries.”

No boundaries
, I repeated to myself as the waitress grinded furiously against me, her kiss getting increasingly wet. 
None till this is all over or it never will be
, I told myself.  But when her tongue flicked in my mouth and I tasted smoke and gum, I pulled away.  “Rub my cock,” I ordered her.  I couldn’t pretend her lips were Lara’s but I could close my eyes and pretend they were her hands.  Leaning by head back, I breathed hard, still failing to convince myself that this furious stroking was Lara.

“Fuckin’ Christ, maybe I should excuse myself,” Jackson joked.  That must’ve meant I was doing a more than convincing job.

Lifting a shy eyebrow at me, the waitress batted her fake lashes.  “Want me to take it out?” she murmured her question.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I breathed.

“Oh my fucking
God
,” Jackson groaned.  But just as the girl undid my jeans and pulled down my zipper, a furious voice bellowed from my right.

“
You and you!
”

All three of us jumped, turning to see the manager and two security guys.

“Pay your shit and get the fuck out!”

Thank fucking God.

~

In the car, on our way back to Jackson’s duplex, I went straight for the kill.  We weren’t drunk – we’d been kicked out of Muse Room before even finishing a round – but Jackson was completely high off of what had just happened.  He hadn’t stopped laughing since his driver came, hanging on my shoulders and clutching his stomach.  That weird
yuk-yuk-yuk
laugh that I hadn’t heard since we were kids was coming out.  It actually had me cracking up.

“That made me feel like college again when we went to that fucking cigar lounge and pretended to be Dad and Uncle Frank even though I was like, nineteen and you were like, ten.”

“I was seventeen, you clown.”

Jackson howled.  “That was awesome.  I felt like I was reliving that moment just now.”

“Yeah, well maybe you should find a time machine and go back to that year so it’s fucking acceptable for you to be obsessed with nineteen-year-olds,” I cracked, laughing when Jackson flashed me a death look.

“Fuck you, that chick was hot.  Her tits were Audra-level.”

“Oh, right.  Audra’s thirty.  Your only age-appropriate fuck buddy,” I smirked.  “So, who was better? Her or your little girlfriend, Gabby?”

Jackson’s mouth twitched as we stopped at red light.  The grin slid off his face and his eyes hardened as he stared out the windshield.  For a second, I wondered if I’d moved too quickly.  But then he squinted, rubbed his lip and gave his verdict.  “I’m actually gonna go with Gabby.”

My pulse quickened as I felt myself getting somewhere.  “Fuck off, I don’t believe you.”

“Why not? Pretty sure Audra’s doped up on like ten different meds, she barely moves when I fuck her,” Jackson laughed.  I looked out my window for a second as I scowled with disgust.  “What do you know about Gabby, anyway?” Jackson socked my arm.  “You were gone during the years that she turned into a fucking smokeshow.”

“I guess that’s what makes it so hard to believe.”  Every word out of my mouth was a pre-calculated maneuver.  “Last I saw her, she was awkward and skinny and completely uncoordinated.”

“Yeah, and that was ten years ago, asshole.  We’ve all changed a lot in ten years.”

No kidding.  “Fair enough.  But I still can’t believe it about Gabby.  Pretty sure sex with her would look like… a baby giraffe trying to stand up.”  I laughed, despising the person I sounded like.  “And here you were… all proud that you bagged a ‘Victoria’s Secret-looking model.’  You fuckin’ liar.  She was probably just desperate to lose her virginity to someone,” I said, digging my nails into my seat to get through the heinous words that I knew would get to Jackson’s famous ego.

He was dead silent for the rest of the ride.  I was afraid it hadn’t worked but the second we got out of the car, audible to no one but ourselves, he flashed me a dirty megawatt smile.

“Your big mouth is going to shut up in a fucking second,” he said.  “’Cause I got something to show you.”