Error (Adrenaline Series Book 5) (13 page)

Conversation flows along with the wine. Glass after glass is had by Mel and Drew until they reach the point of apparent intoxication. While I feel a little tipsy, I'm definitely the most sober with Destin not far behind me.

Which is good because I want to have this conversation at least remotely sober.

Mel giggles, leaning into Drew's arms on the couch. “So, what was the big news, Azura?”

“I've got a
head
line,” Drew less than subtly jokes.

“You've got news?” Destin's thumb strokes my shoulder. “What is it?”

I hesitate to answer.

Mel pushes, “Come on. Tell us! We're family, right? We celebrate great news together!”

Wouldn't know. This is like the first good news I've had since I got accepted into college. My parents didn't celebrate with me then, so much as ask how much would the first check be.

“Can we celebrate great news together naked?” Drew whines.

“One track mind,” she fusses.

“One track path...to the bedroom.”

Destin shakes his head and bumps him. “Come on baby. What's the good news? I'm sure we could all use a little.”

Smiling softly I reply, “I got offered my dream job today.”

In unison they croak, “What?!”

“Yeah. The biggest name in extreme sports wants me to work for them,” I gush trying to hold back my excitement.

“That's fucking incredible,” Destin exclaims.

“Does that mean we have to stop watching football?” Drew asks. “Or better yet, is there an extreme football league?”

“Isn't that Rugby?” Destin jokes, causing his brother to laugh before they fist bump again.

They do that a lot. Not just fist bump, but laugh at each other's jokes that are only slightly amusing. It's cute and sad.

“If I take the job, I start in two weeks,” I continue slowly.

Mel looks puzzled. “If? What do you mean if? Don't you mean when?”

“Yeah,” Destin adds. “When, right?”

My eyes fall into his, the debate of correcting them so difficult, dinner starts to churn in my stomach.  Finally I confess, “I'd have to relocate to London for a couple months before traveling to Colorado for a week.”

“London baby!” Drew shouts. “Remember that episode of Friends?”

Destin's eyes never leave mine. “So...you'd have to leave me?”

“Well-”

“Here.”

“I-”

“You're just gonna up and go without thinking about how this could affect us?”

His rush of irritation hits me like shot gun blasts.

“You're just gonna throw away these last few weeks, all we've done to protect you for some...fucking job?”

“Ohhh....” Mel's voice whispers. “Oh no...”

“Bro,” Drew tries to help.

“How the hell could you do this to us?” Destin bites. “How the hell could I, could all of us mean so fucking little to you?”

“Excuse me?” I snap.

“Bro,” Drew tries to intervene once more.

“I risk my fucking life to save yours, bust my ass night after night to find a way to keep you alive, and now it's 'good fucking luck with your life here'? You're not worth a damn?”

“Enough,” Drew states.

“Fuck off,” Destin grumbles at his brother rising to his feet.

Drew mimics the action. “No, you fuckin' chill.”

“Don't fuckin' tell me what to do!” he snaps viciously. “It's not your fucking girlfriend leaving you like you're nothing!”

Baffled almost as much as heartbroken by the words falling freely from him, I meet eyes with Mel who nods at our own spoken conversation.

“And it's not yours doing that bullshit either,” Drew informs him. “She didn't
take
the job yet, remember?” The blow pushes his attention to glance away. “Don't be so fucking selfish.”

“Why not?” Destin snaps. “You were.”

Drew rescued Melody from the hell she was living in. He risked his life to do it. That's selfish, but isn't that the good kind? The okay kind?

Instead of letting them continue to fight Melody stops them when she stands. “Let's go to bed, Drew. Let them...let them have their moment.”

Her hand on his yanks him out of the anger induced coma he had slipped into. He delivers one more hard glare to his brother before looking at me. “Congrats on the job offer, Azura. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” I whisper in return.

We wait in silence while the two of them disappear into their room. Once the door shuts, Destin's head snaps back down at me, a combination of fear and sadness floating.

In a hushed tone he asks, “Are you gonna take it?”

Unsure I simply shrug.

I wanted too...I wanted to so bad. That's what I wanted before this moment.

“I don't want you to.”

“That's pretty clear,” I sigh.

“So don't.”

Perplexed at his level of sudden narcissism I gripe, “Really? You want me to give up my dream job, my first chance at a career that doesn't involve me smelling like cheap whiskey and curly fries, without a second thought?”

“Yeah,” Destin answers without hesitating.

Could he possibly answer that any faster?

“There shouldn't be a second thought Azura. I love you. You belong here. With me.”

“Which is why I didn't say yes,” I confess softly. “Because I don't wanna be without you.”

“Then say no.”

“But I don't wanna be stuck here either, Destin. It's hard enough being trapped in this apartment while waiting for my life to end, but I've been at meaningless dead end jobs since I joined the work world. This is the first real chance I have at following my passion and instead of supporting me or offering for us to make this work, you're looking me in the face and forcing me to choose?”

“Yes.”

Seriously? Who answers that fast?

“So that's it?” I stand up. “I have to pick between my dream job and my dream love?”

“Yes.”

My hand runs through my hair. “There's no way you're willing to make this work?”

“It can't.” He shrugs. “I can't save you from overseas. I can't rescue you from another country. I can't protect you from-”

“Why do you think I'm so goddamn defenseless?” I bark. “Like I'm some pathetic damsel in distress who can't climb out her tower without some big burly man?”

“I'm not burly...”

That's what he took from that? This conversation is crashing faster than I realized.

“Destin. I can take care of myself. I took care of myself for
years
before you showed up.”

“Because you had too,” he argues. “Now you never do. Now you have me. Now you never have to worry again or be afraid or scared, because you have me. Because I'm here.”

Shaking my head slowly I counter, “You think that's why I love you? Because you're some security blanket I can't do without? Is this even about me?” When he swallows, it rains down the truth I can't believe I missed. “It's not...This isn't about me leaving. This isn't about some fucked up hero scenario in your head. You're afraid if I leave I won't come back.”

Destin bites his bottom lip.

“You're afraid I'm gonna abandon you.”

“Why wouldn't I be afraid of that?” His voice shakes. “That's all that ever fucking happens to me! My mom! My dad! My cousin! My brothers! Everyone I love fucking leaves! The only difference is they didn't choose to and you are!”

Feeling a sob come to my throat, I choke it down. “Just because I'm not at your fingertips doesn't mean I'm abandoning you.”

“If you get on that plane, that's exactly what you're doing.”

Tears strangle my vocal chords from countering. I surrender my hands. “I'm going to bed.”

Destin doesn't attempt to stop me. The moment I round the corner for his bedroom, my eye catch sight of Drew whose head is peered around his bedroom door frame. A simple broken smile is offered to me. I give it back with a shrug of my shoulders.

I don't know what to do. About anything.

Destin

A sharp unexpected pain lands in my gut.

What the fuck was that?

Groaning, I lift my eyelids to see Drew peering down over me, an expression so grim I'm not sure I've ever seen it before.

He didn't used to be such a dick in the morning. No. That was Daniel.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“What the fuck is yours?” he bites back.

Unsure of exactly what's going on I don't answer.

“I should fucking nail you again,” he gripes. “Maybe in the dick since that's what you were being.”

The memory of last night tumbles back into my throbbing skull. I glance at the coffee table where the bottle of whiskey I went and bought last night stands empty.

Old habits suck.

“We need to talk,” Drew informs flopping down on the couch across from me. “Right here. Right now.”

“Can it wait?” I groan. “Kinda hungover.”

“Good.” He nods. “Maybe you'll associate your destructive behavior with your destructive decisions.”

“Having a girlfriend is turning you into Dr. Phil.”

“Rather that than a dick with legs.”

His comment causes me to shift until I'm sitting up.

“Destin, it is not easy being a McCoy,” he starts on a deep sigh. Leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs he continues. “It never has been. When we were really little, we all slept in the same room cause that's what we could afford. When we were a little older we had to learn to make it without parents. By the time puberty fucking hit we were hustling because that's what life demanded for us to do.” My mouth twitches at the facts. “We're not weak. We weren't made to be weak. We weren't made for the world to keep us down even though that's all it feels like it wants to do.” With a shrug his voice drops. “It fucking sucks to be us. To wake up every morning wondering if today is the day we lose someone else we love. To wake up having to be a fucking soldier in a war with no end. To carry around battle scars and open wounds from a lifetime of fucking choices we were never really given. Do not think for one second I am telling you that I don't know the fucking pain you carry around.”

My jaw trembles. “What are you saying?”

“That you have a choice to make Destin. Every day. You can wake up, count how many times the world tries to bury you while you battle it or you can wake up and count how many things are worth fighting for while you keep swinging.”

There's an immediate ache in my chest. In a choked voice I shake my head. “I'm so goddamn tired of swinging...”

“We all are,” he admits. “But the only time, you ever truly lose is when you give up bro. Every fallen McCoy, never gave up.” His words push the tears out of my eyes. “I know you love Azura-”

“So fucking much Big D.”

“And that girls loves you too. But you can't trap what you love in some sort of weird cage so that it never leaves you. You really love her? You have to have a little faith. The same faith that Mom had every morning when she worried that there wouldn't be enough food to feed us. The same faith Dad when he tucked us in at night before he left for work that he would make enough to keep the lights on. It's the faith of the McCoy. The faith no matter how shitty something seems there's faith that someway, somehow, everything will be alright.”

A sniffle comes from me. “But what if it's not? What if-”

“Don't.” He stops me. “Don't waste your blows in this world on what ifs. There are too many more important things that need those swings. Let her take that job. Don't turn the thing worth fighting for into the thing you end up fighting. That'll hurt worse than anything else.”

There's a sound of footsteps, which draws our eyes to Mel who has entered the room. She's dressed in a black oversized hoodie, black pants, and black shoes. Her attire is my indication for where they are headed to.

To see The Commissioner for their scheduled meeting.

“You ready?” She sweetly asks my brother.

He smiles at her before looking back at me. “Worth. Fighting. For.”

I nod. “Yeah. I get it.”

“You don't,” he sighs as he stands. “But you will...”

Without another word to me he heads for her. Mel asks, “Can we get breakfast? I'm starving.”

“We each had that. It was full of protein, remember?”

The dirty joke is filled with laughter short lived, I assume from a playful punch she delivers to him. As soon as they're gone, I stand up and stretch from the uncomfortable night on the couch.

I could've slept in my bed, but it didn't feel right. Not with the way I treated her. God, I was such an idiot last night.

After doing a sweep of the apartment to see Madden and Knox both didn't make it home last night, I venture toward my bedroom, each step more cautious than the last.

Worst case scenario? She calls me a dick, throws something at me, then we make up and have make up sex. I don't care what happens as long as we make up. And....have make up sex.

I give my door a couple knocks and wait for permission to enter. When there's no response, I knock again. With my hand braced on the door knob I announce, “I'm gonna come in, so we can talk, alright?”

There's no objection from the other side so I invite myself in. The vacant room parts my lips.

I lied.
This
is the worst possible scenario.

My eyes search the room in disbelief before darting back to the living room for my cell phone. I grab it from the table and immediately check for messages, heartache crushing my windpipe when there is nothing. No new call. No new voice mail. No unread text.

Tossing the object on the table I bury my face in my hands. Frustration and gloom grooming my mind. All of sudden my phone starts to vibrate, hope forcing me to hit answer without thinking about it.

Before I can even say hello, a voice I can't wait to never hear again says, “I don't particularly feel like staring at your ear.”

After I lower the phone to see his smug smile, I reply through gritted teeth. “I don't particularly like you calling.”

“You're gonna love me calling today,” his voice tries to entice.

“Doubtful.”

“I have a once in a lifetime proposition for you.”

“Pass.”

“You can.” The Devil smirks. “But then your girlfriend dies for sure.”

Swallowing the trepidation, I state. “Talk.”

“Do you have any idea where I am in this city?”  He asks before turning the camera around giving me a view of a landing pad with houses in the far distance.

“I know exactly where you are.”

There are two known neighborhoods with landing strips in them. One is the gated neighborhood Azura took me to. The other is almost fifteen minutes from here.

“Good,” he says slowly. “Because for someone reason my helicopter has been delayed leaving me stranded here instead of on my way to a different state.” The Devil glares. “Could be because someone reported my pilot to the authorities on trumped up charges leaving me with no choice but to call in a last resort to get the hell out of this godforsaken city!”

With a smile I nod. “You're welcome.”

“No, no.” He wags a finger into the camera. “Not thanking you yet. Burning every known alias I had has ceased me from leaving the country at the moment. That was the play that brought this day to you.”

“And what day is that?”

“The day you choose what you want most in life.”

My eyebrows furrow.

“I will be here, in this very spot,
alone
and
unarmed
for precisely the next twenty two minutes. You want me dead, McCoy? Come and kill me. With the headache you are beginning to give me, I almost welcome the solitude of death with open arms.”

Thrill scoots me to the edge of the couch.

This is it. This is that one moment I've been fucking waiting for. That moment when-

“Or...” he calls to me. “You can save your girlfriend who also has precisely twenty two minutes. The hit man that was hired to take her out is never late.”

Vomit lurches up my throat.

“You know where I am. How
far
I am from you. She is the exact same distance in the opposite direction. You can choose one McCoy. Life or death.” There's a short cackle before he adds, “Oh and before you rush to have your brothers come to your aid, you should know there's a giant pile up on the freeway. Eighteen wheeler tipped over. No one on that is moving anywhere any time soon.”

Divided down the middle with the clock running I meet The Devil's eyes one final time.

“Tick. Tock.”

His face disappears and so does my thought process. My phone flies to my pocket, my feet magically end up in a pair of shoes, and the spare gun Madden keeps taped under the kitchen sink is locked and ready for the choice I have to make.

As soon as I'm on my bike with my helmet on, I attempt to call Madden. The phone rings and rings, but no one picks up. I zoom off down the road. I try Knoxie knowing Drew and Melody are cell phone free for the next few hours. Her voicemail kicks on seconds before I pull up to the most horrifying moment of my life. One way I save a life and the other I take it.

Which way would you go? Which fight would you keep swinging for?