Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) (40 page)

He knelt down, his eyes shimmering with insanity that hadn’t been there the last time I talked to him. If it had been, it was hidden better than this.

“I’m sorry to do this.” He pointed at me with the gun. Then his free hand stroked my cheek.

I flinched away from his grasp and his jaw stiffened as he stood.

“I didn’t want it to be this way,” he said, his voice hardening. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.” He started to pace, but stopped and regarded me with eyes full of barely controlled crazy. “But then
he
came. Why, Lexie? Why did you let him in? You let him kiss you.” He stepped forward with fury, and I struggled to get out of the chair, but my limbs were numb.

“You drugged me,” I accused in a husky voice.

“I had no choice,” he said, his voice flipping back to that soft tone. “It was the only way. Don’t you see? It was the only way we could be alone and you could explain to me why the fuck you did that to me. To
us
.” His voice turned into a snarl at the end.

I blinked at him. I was finding it hard to fully grasp his words. They were slippery, the drug still holding dominion on my mind. “What are you talking about? There is no ‘us.’”

A sharp pain erupted in my cheek as Eddie backhanded me savagely. It rocked the chair, but I stayed upright.

“Don’t say that,” he hissed. “Don’t you dare. You know what we have. I know you do. I just had to get rid of that idiot actor for you to see, to give you time. I knew you’d come to me.” The pacing started again. “Of course, I’m not very patient.” He laughed and the sound echoed through the stadium and crawled up my spine like a spider. “So I had to try and get you myself.” He frowned. “I don’t blame you for running. It was dark. You didn’t know it was me. But I wish you hadn’t fought. That you hadn’t saved that brute keeping you from me.”

I blinked away the stars from his hit and finally was able to understand what all of this meant. “It was you,” I whispered in horror. “All of this, it was you.” My mind jolted to an earlier statement. “You killed Drew?”

Eddie knelt in front of me once more, resting both his hands on my thighs. I focused on the one holding the gun. My limbs weren’t working properly just yet, but I needed them. Eddie wasn’t big. He was tall and lean, but he needed the gun for dominance over me. Without it, I had a chance.

He pushed the hair out of my face and caressed the area he’d just hit. “I don’t like to mark your skin,” he said, “but you forced me to. Don’t make me do it again,” he warned.

“You killed Drew,” I repeated.

He tilted his head. “Of course I did.”

“Why?” I asked, horrified.

“You sound upset.”

My eyes bugled. “You fucking killed someone, Eddie!” I tried to scream, but my voice was husky.

“Yeah, but you didn’t like him. He was always rude to you. Whenever he was backstage, it was obvious you wanted rid of him. I did you a favor.”

I regarded him in horror. “You’re insane.” It just popped out. I realized, after I said the words, that they weren’t ideal.

A hurricane settled over Eddie’s boyish face and he jerked up. “You don’t say that, Lexie,” he warned. “I know you’re upset. It’s because of him. I just can’t figure out why, why you let him back in.” He twisted the barrel of the gun against his temple in a confused gesture. “He’s not right for you. Only I am. I’ll make sure you know that. After I kill him.”

I froze. “What?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Eddie tilted his head again. “After I kill him, you’ll have a clearer head. You’ll be able to see.”

I struggled against my bonds like a banshee. “You won’t touch him,” I screamed.

Another hit landed on my temple, this one harder and jarring me. “Don’t raise your voice to me,” he said quietly. Dangerously.

I blinked, knowing I was playing this the complete wrong way. I needed to play along with crazy.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered through the pain. “I know, you’re right. I was just upset at the thought of… you getting hurt. You don’t need to put yourself in danger by going after him. We’re together now.”

I had to stall him. I had to play along. Killian would come. I knew that. Emma would notice me gone and Killian would come for me.

Right now, I totally understood his need for vengeance as the man who had almost killed my friend stood in front of me. The person who’d killed Drew.

Somehow the cops had gotten the wrong guy. It made sense now, how he could have gotten the photos and access to my house. He came and went with sound gear all the time. He’d even hung out with us at the house a couple of times. My blood was ice. It was him, the entire time.

Eddie squinted at me. “You think he could hurt me?” he asked, fury lurking in his tone.

“Of course not,” I said quickly. “He’s just not worth the risk. It’s easier to hurt him when he sees me with a real man. The one I belong with.” I paused, trying to wiggle my arms from my binds. “You’re right. I was blind before. But seeing you, seeing how far you’d go to get us together, I realize…” I trailed off, my binds loosening.

Eddie came forward, eyes lit with hopeful insanity. “Realized what?”

I glared at him. “That you’re a fucking crazy person,” I informed him. Then I freed my hands from the binds I’d loosened and didn’t hesitate in landing my right hook on his temple. The impact jarred my entire arm, but I didn’t let the pain stop me. I let it fuel me. I surged off the chair and let my foot impact Eddie’s shin, bringing him crumpling to the floor. Time slowed and I had to make the decision on whether to scramble for the gun that had tumbled out of his hands across the stage in the opposite direction of the exit or run.

I made the choice to run.

The wrong one it seemed.

Because when I made it to the side of the stage, the gunshot echoed through the room in a similar fashion to how my music did. It was only after that that I recognized the blossom of pain in my stomach. It stopped me in my tracks and then brought me to the floor.

“Tell me you’ve fuckin’ got something,” he barked into the phone. He was pacing outside a restaurant in West Hollywood where cops had shut down half the street. One was interviewing a tear-stained Emma while a hard-faced Wyatt hovered at her side.

It had been almost two hours. Two hours that his heart hadn’t beat and he hadn’t sucked in a clean breath.

An ambulance further down the street had loaded Clyde into it half an hour ago, trying to staunch the bleeding in his gut. No word from the hospital yet on his condition.

Killian felt like he was bleeding out with him. He could hardly stand upright. Lexie was gone. The fucker had snatched her from the restaurant after he’d neutralized Clyde.

Bull and half the club were on their way. That was the hardest call Killian had ever had to make. To hear the utter devastation in Bull’s tone. And the accusation. He hadn’t gone out and said it, but he didn’t have to.

Killian had failed her.

He’d fuckin failed her, and if anything happened to her… no.

“Might have,” Keltan said, voice grim. He’d had all his boys out looking for Lexie and all chasing every lead they’d abandoned after they thought he’d been caught.

“Roadie, been with Lexie for a year and a bit, he raised some red flags. My boys were gonna look it up, then we heard from the cops. Just came from his place. No one home, but he happened to leave his front door wide open. Found some creepy shit.”

Killian clenched his fists. “What sort of shit?”

“Photos,” was all Keltan said.

Killian took a deep breath, trying to swallow the dragon at his throat. “You got a lock on him?”

“I’ve got my guy triangulating his cell right now.” There was a pause, glancing down at hid phone. “We’ve got a location.”

Killian jogged to his bike. “Tell me, now,” he barked.

“Bro, I can have my boys meet you, have backup. They’re half an hour out. I’ll be there in forty.”

“Fuckin’ tell me,” he roared.

Keltan rattled of the address.

Killian roared off in the direction of the area. He could get there in ten.

He hoped to fuckin’ God he’d get there in time.

I’m coming, baby.

Getting shot hurt. A lot.

I had no idea how Killian managed to control a car and keep calm when he’d been shot five years ago.

It was like a red-hot poker had been shoved in my side and it kept getting hotter and hotter.

“Why did you make me do that?” Eddie asked hysterically, hands on his head. He was pacing in front of me while I pressed my hands to my bleeding stomach. There was a lot of blood. It worried me.

Quite a bit.

Eddie had set me back on the chair and I was slumped on it.

“You keep making me hurt you,” he babbled.

“I’m sorry,” I gritted out. “But you need to get me to a hospital, Eddie.”

He didn’t seem to hear me; he just kept pacing. Then he paused, jerking his head up as if he heard something.

I jerked up too, ignoring the pain. Someone was here.

Eddie rushed to me and placed the cold barrel at my temple, putting his finger to my lips.

I swallowed my fear. It was draining away in a way that worried me. Fear was a survival instinct, something that kept your heart beating in situations like this. What did it mean if my fear was trickling out of me?

Eddie scooted the chair so that we no longer faced the invisible audience but the sides of the stage. I cried out as the movement caused the pain to worsen.

It exploded into agony when I saw the person emerge from the stage. When I saw Killian’s blank face flicker with panic as he focused on the blood seeping out of the middle of my torso.

Killian raised his gun, his jaw granite and eyes wild. “Let her go,” he growled.

Eddie laughed. “Never. We’re meant to be together.” He pressed the gun against my temple once more. “Put down your gun or I’ll blow her skull apart. After that, you’ll kill me I’m sure, but I’m happy to follow Lexie into the afterlife, where we can finally be together. I’m not afraid of death.” His voice dripped with crazy, and worse, sincerity. He gazed at me with a cocktail of fanatical adoration and rage in his eyes. “My violent soul craves the same tragic end,” he whispered my own words back to me, and they’d never sounded so ugly.

I couldn’t focus on that anymore, on the possibility of my end. Instead, I sought solace in Killian’s gaze. He heard the promise in Eddie’s voice too. He immediately lowered the gun, his gaze was burning into me.

“Now slide it over here,” Eddie commanded.

Killian did as he said, his entire body taut. I could see him shaking with fury and frustration. Eddie had all the power right now.

“You’re going to be okay, freckles,” he choked out.

I nodded. “I know,” I whispered through the tears.

Killian’s eyes focused on Eddie. “Kill me,” he ordered. “You want me gone? Shoot me. Just get her to a fuckin’ hospital.”

“Kill, no,” I cried out.

He ignored me. “That’s what you want, right? Me out of the way? I’ll die. Gladly. You can have your life with her as long as I’m dead and you get her treated for that.” He nodded to the wound in my stomach. His eyes glistened. He knew. The sorrow in his face told me he knew if I didn’t get to a hospital, and soon, I was gone. I could see that knowledge tearing him apart.

Eddie regarded him. Then he laughed. It was that crazy laugh that made me flinch. “You’d do it? Die for her.”

“In a second.”

The gun didn’t leave my temple. “You hear that, baby? He’d die for you.”

“Killian,” I croaked out.

“It’s okay, freckles.” His voice was firm, confident, but his eyes were etched in pain.

It wasn’t. None of this was okay. I couldn’t watch Killian leave this world. I jerked my head up. “You know I’m dying, right?” I asked Eddie. “You said we’d be together in the afterlife. We can be, but not if you hurt him. Not if you lay a finger on him.”

Raw, carnal energy filtered from Killian. “Shut up, freckles,” he commanded, his voice hoarse.

Eddie must have seen him move because he pressed the barrel into my head. “Not another fuckin’ step or you’ll see the inside of her skull,” he hissed.

Killian immediately froze.

Eddie looked between us. I tried not to focus on the pain in my stomach. Or the scarier thing of it retreating. That didn’t mean good things. But if it meant Killian didn’t have to die, I’d gladly give into the darkness tugging at the edges of my vision.