Cry's P.O.V
The night was going a lot better than I'd imagined. Only a few people had mentioned the incident with the pictures but with Ken at my side I managed to get rid of them pretty quickly. I was reminded of how much I enjoyed working here. And I even managed to keep up my act without my mask. I'd broken it after I'd found the pictures and there was no point in getting a new one now. Everyone knew who was behind it.
I'd been away long enough for everything to settle down and it was almost like nothing had even happened. Most of the clients were too busy enjoying themselves to care. I don't think many even noticed me amongst the colourful strobe lights.
"What's wrong with Pewds then?" Ken asked as he leaned across me to grab the vodka bottle.
I handed a lady her drink from across the bar and quickly took her money. I don't know why, but a large chunk of me didn't want to tell Ken the real reason why Pewds was missing.
I pushed back the thoughts and turned towards my friend.
"He was drunk this morning," I murmured and lifted my eyes to look at him. He was staring at the cocktail he was making, but that didn't hide the frown from his face.
"You've been staying at his?" he asked, still focusing on the drink in front of him.
I shrugged. "Sometimes."
"Is he sleeping okay?"
He sounded so casual on the surface, as if he were asking me what I had for dinner, yet there was a certain edge to his voice that I'd never heard before. I was surprised, although I shouldn't be.
"I...I'm not sure. He said something last night. Said he was scared of sleeping," I answered, my words causing Ken to look up at me. He seemed somewhere else for a moment, but a few blinks brought him back to reality and he turned back to the drink, sliding it to a customer.
"Jennifer told me this would happen again," he sighed as he grabbed a towel to wipe his hands. "I can just see it now. See him doing something stupid. Why can't he just tell me when something's wrong? "
I watched as he made his way past me but I grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"What do you mean? Ken, he...he seemed fine, just a little drunk."
"Cry, everything is falling apart around us. I don't know how much he's told you but we're pretty much fucked. Pewds being sleep deprived and drunk, while all this is happening, is so far away from being 'fine'," he warned.
I gripped his arm tighter. "He's not stupid," I pressed, hoping my words would help contain my own worry.
"I could deal with him like this when... but not now. I'm sorry but you just don't know him like I do," he rushed, yanking his arm from me and turning away yet again.
"Where are you going?" I called. The customers irritated complaints became background noise. How could I think of serving them after what Ken had just said?
"I need to call Pewds!"
I had no choice then. No choice but to paste a smile onto my face and catch up with the line of customers that had been growing over the past few minutes. It seemed like Ken had only managed to convince me, and one other bartender I'd never met before, to come in today. Minx had the weekend off to spend with a girl she'd been seeing over the past couple of weeks but I have no idea where everyone else was. The club's been closed for days. I wouldn't be surprised if the other employees had just scrounged another night off work.
It doesn't help that it was one of the busiest nights of the week ; everyone wants to party on a Saturday night! It's usually me, Minx, Ken and Pewds who tend the bar tonight. But one was on holiday, one was drunk, and the other had just ran off to make a call.
And then there was what Ken had just said. 'Everything is falling apart around us.' 'We're pretty much fucked.' I couldn't blame him for panicking after what Pewds had told me last night. The photos were a threat. Even I knew that! But...but Pewds has this under control. He has to have this under control.
"Hey!"
I turned, finding the other bartender waving to me from across the bar. "We're almost out of tequila. Could you get some from the basement?"
Grabbing the nearest towel, I nodded. I'd rather leave him here to deal with the heavy line of customers than be stuck here myself. Plus, tonight, this music was giving me a headache.
A loud sigh left my lungs as soon as the door shut behind me. This corridor was probably the most relaxing place in this whole building. The main room was too noisy, the basement was just plain creepy, and Pewds and Kens office...It wasn't exactly 'cosy', but this one, small corridor was nice. The thick doors blocked out most of the noise, except the ground still trembled and my ears still rang, and the warm, brown walls and dim lights really helped calm the ache in my head.
I found myself rubbing my eyes, leaning back against the wall and trying to find a reason why I shouldn't be worried.
I couldn't honestly believe that Pewds had this under control. It seems like he doesn't even have himself under control, let alone anything else. Ken was worried for him, and from what Ken had just said, Jennifer has been worried for awhile. And, although I don't particularly like or trust the girl, she seems to know what she's talking about when it comes to Pewds...as much as I hate to admit that.
In my sudden haze I almost didn't notice the yelling. It was loud, very loud, but almost completely overpowered by the heavy bass of the music.
The door bursting open; I noticed that.
And then the corridor was filled with people. They were yelling and screaming and shoving each other in a desperate rush to get out of the building. I tried to search for what was going on but I only caught a quick glimpse of the bar before I was shoved down the corridor. The staircase had been engulfed in flames, smoke had curled across the ceiling, and I suddenly wasn't fighting against the crowd anymore. I let people shove me, and grab me, and I grasped onto the exists doorframe and I let myself stumble from the club and spill out into the side ally with everyone else.
I backed up against the ally wall, breathing deeply and staring up at the office window. Flames whipped against the opened glass, reached as far out at it could and sent smoke drifting into the night air. I could feel the heat from here; as if it were seeping through the paint and brickwork and trying to burn me.
Hands grabbed my shirt and I was suddenly being dragged from the wall and back into the crowd.
"You have to see this, man," a shaky voice said into my ear. It was the bartender. He had a tight grip on the black material of my shirt as he pulled me to the front of the club and through the noisy crowd that had formed.
People still stumbled out of the building, coughing and latching onto the first person they saw but, despite everything going on, a large group of people were just standing there, staring at the wall with open mouths and wide eyes, as if trying to understand something that made no sense.
The bartender shoved me forward and I stumbled, almost catching my foot on the curb. I snapped to look at him, to ask what the hell was going on and why he was throwing me about, but something on the wall caught my eye.
I looked up, freezing.
1 - Your business - gone
2 - Your enemy
3 - Your father
4 - Your lover
5 - Your sister
6 - Your brother
Once I'd seen it, read it, I could take my eyes off the wet, painted words that dripped down the bricks. It seemed pretty clear that whoever was threatening Pewds was getting bored of staying in the dark. It doesn't take a genius to know that this is a very public, very obvious, attack.
"Cry!"
My eyes broke away and I watched Ken run towards me, skidding to a halt when he saw the new graffiti. But he only stopped for a moment, just a split second to process everything in his mind, before he was right next to me, and now it was Ken who was grabbing my arm and pulling me with him.
"What... What's going on?" I asked, although I knew exactly what was going on.
I got no reply.
"What if someone's trapped in there?"
No reply.
I looked back, seeing the flames flickering through the open doors now, hearing people screaming and yelling and shouting words I couldn't make out.
"Ken, we can't just leave. Do you see what's going on? Ken!"
My body was yanked forward and Ken lowered his head so his eyes bore into mine.
"Listen to me now, Cry, because I don't have time to repeat myself. There's nothing you can do. The fire department's on their way so leave it to them. This fire wasn't an accident, and I have a million missed calls off Pewds. So, right now, we have to get the hell out of here because the police will be here soon and we need to be as far away as possible."
All I could hear was his words; his words and the shallow sound of my breath as each intake rung through my ears and vibrated through my body.
I didn't want to think about what he meant by 'we'.
"Cry!"
That voice. I knew exactly who it was, even if I'd never heard that voice sound as choked and exhausted as it did right now.
Ken's hold released and I looked back.
Pewds ran towards us, towards me, and he ran faster than I'd ever seen a man run before. I could hear the heavy thumps of his feet as they hit the road and I had absolutely no time to think before he crashed right into me, knocking the air out of me, and the force nearly caused me to fall back. If it weren't for his arm locking around me then I'd be on the ground. Yet, although I had no time to think, I still found myself grabbing him and holding me to him with just as much force.
He moved. His hands grabbed my face and he pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine and practically breathing into my mouth, taking long, drawn-out breaths as I grabbed the front of his shirt and felt the violent rise and fall of his chest.
But then everything froze again. I'd had enough time to process things; the coat he was wearing, the thick strap that ran across his chest, the...the wetness of his clothes, and the red, the red that was smudged across his cheek, smudged in a way that told me he'd been trying to rub it off.
"You're..." I trailed off, pulling my hands from his clothes and looking down at them, at the red. "You're covered in blood."
He stared at my hands. There was a sharp breath when he heard my words, and when I looked back up and met his gaze the blueness of his eyes shook, shimmering as if they were wet and jerking as if his gaze couldn't hold still.
"Are you hurt?"
The question just rolled from my mouth. He held onto me tighter, moving one hand to the back of my head and gripping my hair and he gasped a breath and held it.
"Don't hate me."
His voice shook just as much as his eyes and he leaned forward, holding my gaze and sending me a look of sheer desperation before he lowered his voice. "Remember it's me. It's still me, Cry. Don't hate me, just remember. Just remember," he whispered. "No matter what you hear from now, just remember it's still me."
I had no time to reply. A moment later, Ken pulled him from me, yanking him so hard he suddenly looked like a rag doll.
"This better not be what it looks like," Ken snarled, keeping a tight grip on his arm as he started to rush forward again. "You two, follow me!" he yelled back.
Pewds' P.O.V
I could hear them. Even though Ken was speaking right down my ear I couldn't help but focus on what Cry and Shy were saying behind us. It was mostly Shy, stumbling around his words and grabbing his brothers arm as he lowered his voice, thinking I couldn't hear.
"Fuck, Cry. You'll never believe what I just saw...what he just did. It was... We have to get out of here. Cry! Why are you following them like a fucking lapdog?"
"Stop talking," Cry had murmured back, pulling free from Shy's hold and grabbing the back of his shirt to pull him after us.
"We need to leave," Ken whispered through clenched teeth, his eyes flickering from my clothes to my face then to the path ahead of us. I couldn't argue with him. The more distance we put between us and this place the better.
"Jennifer's on her way. We're going back to Sweden. We need Marcus," he continued, now holding my gaze. "And when we get in that car you're going to tell me exactly what happened to you, exactly what you've done."
"Ken," I hissed. "There are bodies."
We have to leave, I agree with that, but we can't leave now.
Ken froze, stopping dead in his tracks and finally releasing my arm. The talking stopped behind us and I was suddenly very aware of the solid gun that lay in my inside pocket, and the thick gym bag that pressed itself against my back.
Ken shouldn't be so surprised.
"Address," he ordered, his voice sharp and quick.
"My building. Room 9. There's three," I answered, lowering my voice yet again.
Bright headlights blinded me, and the rumbling engine of an unused car rattled ahead. It was going fast, and the tires screeched against the road as it came to a stop.
A pale hand and slender wrist slipped out of the open window, followed by a glossy wave of black.
"Get in, boys!" Jennifer called, clicking her fingers together and peering from the rolled-down window. Her tone was light, despite everything that was going on, but her face dropped when she saw me, and she practically scrambled out the car, kicking the door open and throwing herself out.
"What happened?" she sneered as she stalked towards me with balled fists and raised eyebrows.
The dull street lamp illuminated each and every twitch of her face and it was impossible for me not to notice the train of emotions that flashed across her sickly pale skin; Confusion, disappointment, fear.
"I didn't have a choice," I replied, feeling my body tense as she grabbed at my bag strap and pulled it over my shoulder. Then her hands were on my coat, on my shirt, getting just as stained as Cry's.
"Jennifer, take them to Joe's. I have a mess to sort out. I'll meet you there in half an hour, no longer," Ken interrupted before he shot off.
I watched his shadow fade down the street, trying to ignore Jennifer as she yanked my coat off. A strangled breath wrapped itself around me when she felt the guns in my coat, and she looked up at me, staring right into my eyes.
"Tell me you didn't," she whispered.
I grabbed the coat from her, holding it to my chest and hoping it covered most of the blood.
"Pewds...We aren't coming back, are we?"
An eerie silence swallowed us. I couldn't face looking at her any longer, not with the look she was giving me now. So, I turned away, cast my eyes down to the floor before slowly lifting them and meeting a very different pair of eyes.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Cry asked. I was stunned by just how calm he sounded; as if his brother wasn't freaking out beside him, as if my best friend wasn't tearing her hair out, and as if Ken hadn't just stormed off to clean up three dead bodies from our apartment building.
"God dammit, Pewds! You told me you were fine! I begged you to come and stay with me, I begged you not to go home!" Jennifer was yelling now. She threw the gym bag, threw it so hard it would have flew right off the edge of the promenade if it hadn't collided with my chest, hard and heavy, causing the air to snap out of me but not effecting my ability to keep the bag close.
"Would you calm down," I hissed, lifting the bag strap over my head. "I already feel like my head's going to explode."
I shoved past her. All I want is to get in the car and leave. There's nothing left here for me; I can't go home, the club has been burnt to the ground, all the people I care about are getting hunted down, and we need to leave. Now!
"Hey! Hold on," Cry called.
The ocean's waves always seemed louder at night - with the tide drawn in tightly to the dusty stone wall of the promenade and the streets so silent and lifeless - and it was easy to get lost in them once the moon was up. But not tonight. They were nothing but a buzzing in the background as Cry jogged to catch up with me; the sound of his feet against the road, the scrunch of my shirt sleeve as he grabbed my wrist.
"Pewds. Tell me what's going on. The club's in flames and I can't even make out what Shy's trying to tell me. You're...You're covered in blood and I need you to tell me what's happening."
"You want to know what's happening? You and your brother are getting in this car, that's what's happening." I twisted my wrist to I could wrap my fingers around his own, yanking him forward and towards the car.
"I'm not coming with you," he blurted, trying to pull free. "You're going to Sweden! I don't even have a passport!"
He shook his head and rubbed his free hand over his eyes. "Just tell me what's going on," he sighed.
"Listen to me," I began. I held onto his other arm too, keeping him in front of me so I could stare right into his eyes, so I could give my words some sort of purpose. "Three people are dead, Cry, and I have blood all over me; Put the pieces together. Now, I really need you and Shy to get in this car so I can explain properly. We don't have time for an interrogation right now. We need to find Joe, and then we need to leave."
He blinked three times, shifted, and tilted his head. "We? Why 'we'? And why Joe?"
"The only person who's going to help us is Marcus, and we need to know if Joe's heard from him. He might not even be in Sweden anymore! We go where Marcus is. As for 'we', I thought I made it pretty clear last night that these people are after us all, including you. You'll be dead by morning if you stay here," I explained, hoping I'd drilled the urgency of this situation into his skull.
"Why do we need to get Shy involved in all of this?" he asked, reaching up and turning to his brother, who Jennifer had quickly grabbed when he'd tried to bolt a minute ago.
"Oh, please," I sighed, wanting to shake him. "He was involved the moment you moved into that flat. Now, get in the car."
With Jennifer driving, it took us only four minutes and thirty-two seconds to get to Joe's club. How did I know that? Because as soon as Cry and his brother had smartly decided to get into the back of the car (Well, I say decided; it was more like Cry decided and dragged Shy in with him) Jennifer had shoved me in the passenger seat, jumped in herself, and grabbed my face, staring into my eyes and ordering me to count. She told me to count every second until we got to Joe and to think about nothing else. I had a distant memory, some hidden and repressed memory of her saying that to me a hundred times, but I couldn't remember when or why. I hadn't even realised how quickly I was breathing until she'd said it to me, until she'd made me stop and focus on something.
I was calmer now. My head was clearer. So clear that I found myself picking up on things I might not have noticed four minutes and thirty-two seconds ago.
Joe's car was scratched. There was a long, white scrape running along the black paintjob. Not only that, but it wasn't parked straight. In fact, it was parked far from straight. It was parked in a way that told me he was in a hurry.
The street lamp was just bright enough to bounce off the shiny metal of a discarded bullet; a shot gun shell? It certainly looked like one...or three. I frowned, staring at the three shells.
"Hold on," I murmured, lifting my arm to stop Jennifer. I glanced back at the car to find Cry had undone his seatbelt. He was leaned across the middle with a hand on Shy's shoulder, trying to calm him down, trying to explain things that he didn't even understand himself.
"Stay with the car. Do you have my knife on you?" I whispered, looking back to my friend as she shifted nervously from left to right.
"Yeah, I have it. Be quick."
I followed her orders again. I was very quick.
I quickly kicked the back door of Joe's club down. I quickly searched the place, trying to ignore the bloody marks that lay across the bar, some of the chairs, and the floor; marks that looked a lot like smudged hand prints. I quickly pulled myself up the stairs as I held one of the twins tightly in my hand, allowing my thump to hover over the trigger ever so slightly.
It was all very quick...until I reached the top of the stairs.
The plush, far-too-expensive carpet that ran along the slim corridor was stained with blood. I could smell it from the first floor. I knew I could smell it. I just told myself I didn't - something I couldn't do now I was looking at the pond of thick, red liquid that was seeping further towards me - and now I was left to stare at the mess I'd found.
It wasn't just the blood. I'd seen a lot of blood in my life and blood was not the reason why I suddenly had to throw myself against the nearest wall, fearing my legs would give out and send me falling down the stairs behind me.
"J-Joe?"
I hadn't exactly planned on letting his name slip. I thought I'd just stand there and stare at his body, imagining it sinking into the carpet until it was out of sight. All the times I'd imagined Joe dead...I never once thought I'd feel so...hollow.
His shoulder was blown to pieces. Skin and muscle and bone floated over the pond of red, some still clinging to the arm that was holding on by only a thread of pink, others stringing from the little shoulder he had left, hanging as if they were nothing but the frayed material of someone's jeans.
He lay on his stomach, his head rolled to the side with open eyes that saw nothing.
When I looked back, I noticed the stairs were soaked in blood, drops dripping from one ledge to the other like a slow waterfall.
I turned back to Joe, my eyes now hovering on the wall behind him, seeing something written in white paint along the tacky wallpaper.
1 - Your business - gone
2 - Your enemy - gone
3 - Your father
4 - Your lover
5 - Your sister
6 - Your brother
My eyes shut. I had to close them. I had to close them and count. Jennifer's voice was in my head, telling me to count. The numbers flicked across my mind until I got to one hundred and fifty seconds. Then I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, and left.
"He's dead."
I didn't know what else to tell her when I reached the car. A small part of me was intent on holding onto this hollow feeling. It was as if it were pushing me to think about all the moments Joe and I had spent together before he stabbed me in the back; all the laughs, the jokes, the crazy nights out. My eyes kept stinging, my throat feeling tight, my nose burning.
"What?" Jennifer breathed. She'd jumped out the car when she saw me, but now she was leaning against it, bending down and resting her elbows on her knees, he hands over her face. "How are we supposed to find Marcus now?"
"We go to Sweden, to Marcus' house. If he's not there then he must have left us some sort of clue. He told me he wanted to help," I replied. Jennifer looked up, her eyes duller than usual and her expression told me everything. She thought I was pulling at loose ends.
"What other choice do we have?" I pressed, stepping closer.
"I don't know! I just want to get out of here before we end up like Joe," she murmured and stood up straight.
Ken arrived a awhile later and squeezed into the back seat.
"I did the best I could. The bodies are gone. I managed to change your records in Gully's office, wiped all the footage taken from the security camera at the front entrance and I did a quick sweep of your apartments. It's not my best work but it'll do. As far as the office records are concerned, you three never lived in that building," he listed, putting my mind to ease for now.
"What about Minx? What about Russ and Scott and the others? They all know we lived there. If anyone asks-"
"Minx knows what to do," I interrupted Cry as Jennifer started the car.
"We told her that we might just disappear one day. She's loyal. She won't say anything, and if she does then it won't help anyone. She doesn't know what they'll want to find out," Ken added.
"You said these people are dangerous. What if they hurt her?"
"Look," I sighed, turning back to look at him. "I've left town, and I've taken the people I care about with me. No one's going to bother hurting her. She may be my friend but she's not on their hit list. These people want revenge. They aren't going to go after anyone they don't need to."
The honesty in my voice must have settled his nerves because he soon relaxed, looking out the window as the streets flew by us. Finally, I managed to actually breathe in a breath of relief. We were all here safe for now, and we were all here together.
"We're going to be okay," I whispered, turning to look at the road ahead. "We'll survive this."