Chapter 25: Crossed sin
"Hey, can I ask what on earth are you doing at ten in the morning on a Sunday?" Caroline started making herself a coffee when Lauren walked out of the bathroom.
Lauren held a fake grin before replying, "I'll have to be out all day, sorry."
She didn't have mental energy to make up an excuse. It had been enough to answer Kate's call while she was in Darren's apartment asking where the fuck she was since they were about to do the toast in her honor but without her, and Lauren could not believe that her mother was actually cursing, so along the thousand times she apologized, she made up a complete implausible story about feeling suddenly sick and going to a hospital, which still didn't make sense because nobody flees from their birthday without telling anyone whatsoever.
"Where are you going? With…Darren, I guess?"
And your cheating boyfriend, to be precise.
"Yeah, don't worry about it." She walked to her room, and sat on the bed to put on her shoes.
"You've been acting so weird lately." Caroline said, resting a side of her body against the fridge while she looked at her, confused, arms crossed over her chest.
Anyone would've acted weird in my situation, she thought but decided to answer "I'm just stressed, that's all."
Caroline didn't buy that excuse anymore.
She sighed and then asked, almost like if she knew that she wasn't going to get an honest answer, "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
Lauren's no didn't make it to the air. Instead, she stood up and said calmly, walking to the red-haired girl. There were so many things going on in her head, but there was a priority regarding her best friend.
"Actually, yes, there is. It's about Joe."
Caroline's shoulders and neck tensed visibly, her eyes dancing nervously; but she held back whatever she wanted to say.
"You need to break up with him."
"This again, Lauren? Seriously?" Caroline turned around to pour the coffee in a cup, resting importance to the matter. It was the same old fight as always.
"But I'm serious this time, Caroline, it's not just some bad vibe I'm making up." Lauren insisted, walking one step closer to the girl, that continued pouring sugar in her drink, evidently ignoring her and clearly upset.
"Give me one feasible reason to say that. One." She looked at her. "Because, honestly, Lauren, he's been nothing but wonderful to me, yet you seem purposeful to take that away."
Lauren hadn't felt so cruel and frustrated at the same time.
"He's keeping things from you that are harmful, which proves he doesn't really care about you. I'm telling you this to protect you because it's unfair for you, and I wouldn't like to see you get hurt. You deserve so much better." Her voice continued rising and showing tinge of things she couldn't filtrate anymore.
Caroline raised her eyebrows, though she placed a hand on the counter almost in a slap. "And your proof is…?"
Lauren sighed. She knew that question was coming. "I just know it."
"You just… know it. Right. Like usual." Caroline rolled her eyes. She had heard enough of those pretexts, "You don't have one because there isn't any. And, sincerely, all those things you're bashing Joe so much for, are literally the same flaws Darren has and so what? You haven't broken up with him for being the way he is, you don't complain not once about him. It just seems to me that you think you're the only one that can get someone like that and get away with it."
"That's not true, and with Darren things are completely different." Lauren was starting to feel the anger gaining strength inside of her chest, and it was more and more difficult to remain calm. It wasn't about jealousy at all, it could never be. She had good intentions to be hearing such accusations.
"Why is it? Because now you're upset that I stole your spotlight?"
Caroline had never talked to her like that. Lauren couldn't believe it.
"I'm not upset over such thing! That is ridiculous! And it's different because Darren and I do know each other, Caroline. You, otherwise, don't know what you're getting yourself into." She knew that was the phrase she hated when it was directed to her, but she couldn't find a way to tell her without exposing the whole situation. Why was it so hard to put the voice of the best friend for three years over some random guy she was crushing on?
"Oh, yeah?" Caroline's eyes seemed in fire. Lauren had seen those eyes before, directed to drunk perverts in bars and to her father when he forgot her birthday, but never to her until that moment. "If you are so honest to each other, I'm guessing you told him everything about you, including about what you did to that group in first year."
Lauren almost looked behind to check if there was a knife stabbed on her back or something. "That's so behind in history…" She couldn't add another argument for that allegation, so she continued after a brief pause, "We know each other the way we are now, and that's enough. You've known Joe for nearly a month, and trust me, I know he's going to hurt you."
"And you know everything, right? Did you know that it's so obvious you hate when somebody doesn't do what you want, like now? Why do you have to be such a control freak? And why do you need the whole attention every single –"
"He's cheating on you, Caroline!"
It slipped from her mouth almost without consent.
Lauren's scream cut the air like a knife, provoking a horrifying silence, and Caroline's hurt expression sink in before she could fight that back. The horn of Darren's bike sounded distantly from the sidewalk, but they ignored it completely.
"With whom?" She asked lowly, almost out of breath.
Lauren's voice was thin now, "I can't tell you."
Caroline's lips tensed.
"How do you know?"
"I can't –"
"I imagined." The girl interrupted her. "This is pathetic, Lauren, you're just embarrassing yourself. Does it bother you so much to see me happy that you have to make up this bullshit?"
Lauren shook her head, but Caroline was already walking to her room with the cup of coffee, probably cold, in her hands. She seemed suddenly exhausted and resigned, and Lauren wondered if she might've looked like that for a while, but she never paid enough attention to notice.
"I can't give away the details, but trust me, I know it's true. You have to believe me." She was almost begging.
Caroline looked at her from the inside of her room. "I'm not sure I can keep doing this, Lauren. You know, I've put up with you so much all these years, trying to convince you to let go a bit, let myself be dragged back over and over when you didn't listen. But the only thing you're doing is to pull me down. It has to end. And if you won't, I will."
She closed the door with a slam, and Lauren didn't know what to do or say. She couldn't cling to one thought for long enough to analyze it, and the only thing that snapped her brain out of that trance was the sound of the horn of Darren's bike again. She drank a glass of water before walking out.
"I was beginning to think you fell asleep." He said while she climbed behind him.
Lauren didn't reply.
"You all right?"
"Yeah." She finally answered, while they moved away from the campus. "Caroline and I had a fight."
"You two always fight." Darren observed.
"Not like this." She cleared.
Darren mumbled, "Uh. What did you argue about?"
Lauren kind of didn't want to hear his response, but she still said, "Joe."
But Darren merely commented after a while, "You have to let that go, Lo. You can't let it embitter you forever. I know I'm not one to talk, but…"
"By the way," Lauren cut off, knowing it didn't sound spontaneous, but she didn't want to hear anything about that anymore, "my uncle is obsessed with you. He wants to know if you can play a gig at his casino-hotel, Battle Creek, this Wednesday. He won't leave us alone until you do."
"Battle Creek, huh? Sounds like a big thing."
"Bigger than Hard Rock Café, you bet. He's got a whole of contacts, so if he sets his mind on you, you'll get many offers." Lauren explained. He had offered to her plenty of times jobs in theaters and shows in California, but she wanted the merit to be her own so she had rejected them over and over. "If you're interested."
"I think I am." Darren replied. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He wanted to keep playing music, but since the settings of his success were in Los Angeles, he had been sort of M.I.A. that year. That could be his chance. On the other hand, he didn't know what to think of Lauren's family being the way to climb to the top. "Sure, let's give it a shot."
They ran into Joe during the first hour of the trip. Darren honked and speeded up to outstrip him, then Joe surpassed him, and Lauren had to limit herself to grumble lowly to avoid the conversation she averted before. Joe always brought that side of Darren she sometimes liked to pretend didn't exist.
They stopped to get gasoline and for a sandwich and a coffee in a gas station. Lauren went to the bathroom, and when she came back the boys were having a conversation about motorbikes she couldn't interrupt even if she wanted to.
It was only after they finished chatting, and were focused in their coffee that she was able to talk.
"So, who's going to talk when we get to the NYT meeting?"
"I was thinking you and me." Darren said, and then he looked particularly to Joe to explain, "We're more experienced with the whole snobbish chit-chat thing, that's why I thought…"
"Fine by me," Joe shrugged, "I have no interest to talk with a journalist that pays his debts writing articles called Why you will marry the wrong person."
Lauren almost laughed before replying, "It's the best paper in the United States."
"My point exactly." Joe answered, while Darren lit a cigar beside him.
"And they gave us a meeting even despite we called in the middle of the night."
"Yeah, because you say Perkins and they hear cashing machines in their heads. Don't take that personally."
The day was cloudy when they got to their meeting in the astonishing building of the New York Times. If they hadn't checked the hour before entering, they'd have thought it was dusk and they had arrived way too late.
The feeling of not belonging was overwhelming even for Lauren. She was wearing jeans and a light jacket, and of course Darren wouldn't wear much else besides jeans and his leather jacket; while everyone surrounding them was trapped in the same shade of color suit. Women wore neat, flawless buns in their heads, and men smelled to recent shaving oil.
Luckily, the interview went pretty well –better than what they expected. The journalist attending them had written the previous article about the expulsion of Michael and his group, and had known them beforehand. Everyone knows them around here, he said tightening his lips dark from nicotine, and they're quite loathsome, if you ask me. He seemed to want to say more, but he realized that it wasn't the place. Darren knew that you either worshipped them or wanted them dead, having your sensible reasons for either one.
This plus point disengaged them from extenuating questions about where they got that information from. He copied the pictures of the gang during their famous/infamous parties where you could see them consuming and providing substances, hooking up with several young girls and, overall, doing stuff out of their minds. In every photograph they've chosen you could clearly see the deplorable state they were in, like dead behind the eyes; one in which nobody was used to see them. They didn't go into the street without looking like a pair out of a mafia movie, but this proved they had nothing respectable on them. It was worth gold.
Lauren put the pen-drive safely in the inside pocket in her jacket, and they shook hands with the journalist before walking out. It was raining, and this time it was genuinely dusk. Joe stepped on his cigar when he saw them turning around the block.
The storm only got worse, and they were wet by the time they parked on the sidewalk of Perkins' house.
Their plan: to break inside of the house while there was nobody in, leave a clear message with red paint (It looks like blood… I know it's not. But trust me, it'll look amazing, Brian had suggested) to make them know they were responsible of everything and that they had the worst coming. That was all.
"I should've brought a change of clothes instead of this stupid paint and these stupid sunglasses. Why did you let me bring them?" Joe complained, climbing off the bike, and grabbing the bag with the pail of paint, a torch and a paintbrush out of the trunk.
"If I had to stop every bad decision of yours, we probably wouldn't be here." Darren observed.
"Are you sure Michael's not here?" Lauren asked, while the boys started heading to the entrance.
"Pretty sure." Joe said. "Jeff informed us they were meeting at someone else's place tonight."
"How come Jeff always knows everything, huh?"
Joe and Darren shared a look, and Lauren rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn't going to get an answer. At least not an honest one.
"We'll still be careful." Darren said. "If we hear someone's around, we'll leave and that's it."
"Wait here." Joe warned. He got nearer to the front gate and stuck his head between the bars. "I'd say it's empty. The doors are closed and I can't see a light on, besides the ones in the garden."
"Let's still climb the side gate." Lauren suggested. "It's just not smart do it here. Some neighbor could see us."
Joe climbed the gate twice his height first, dauntless and skillfully. Though it seemed incredibly easy for him, Lauren became suddenly afraid of being incapable to do it and embarrass herself. Darren then shined up as well, and balancing on the top of the gate, he looked at her and said, like if he had read her thoughts:
"Come on, I'll help you."
She nodded while walking a few steps to get near, then placed her hands on the closest horizontal pole and jumped while putting her weight into her arms to get higher. She got to set a foot on that pole –which was good- when she realized it was physically impossible to place the other one at the same level. She was too short and didn't have the extreme acrobatic skills required. Darren stretched a hand to her, and she had no option but to hold his arm and use it as a support to stand on both of her feet again. The wind hit her face, messing with her hair and blocking her view when she got to the top. The way down was easier, and they both landed with no help.
It was good luck that nobody had slipped on the wet gate and broke their necks, so she didn't complain while they reached Joe, who was inspecting the door.
The back garden had a pool the size of an apartment, and it ended practically in the back door they were at. It was an exaggeration of house for a 20 year old guy who lived alone.
"I'd have to break the glass to get inside," Joe said. "Same with the windows. If there's people inside of the house, they'll hear and we'll be spending the night in a warm jail of NYC."
"What about that one?" Darren suggested. It would not stop raining, and they had to roof their faces with a hand to not get raindrops in their eyes.
It went almost unnoticed, but there was a slightly opened hopper window at the top of the wall, probably in the bathroom, since they're the ones most people usually leave opened for ventilation.
"Happen to have a ladder?" Joe asked, while they walked to the aforesaid window. Their feet splashed the water over the grass with every step.
"I have… shoulders." Darren gave Lauren a look.
"I'm sensing that my body size will be conveniently helpful; inconveniently for me, of course." Lauren looked up to the hopper window. It was mildly twice her height. Even in someone's shoulders, she wasn't sure she could reach it. "Okay, let's do it before I regret this."
Darren let out a large amount of air, "I hate to admit this, but Joe's taller than me."
Lauren shared a brief glance with him. All of this would've turned out to be nonstop torture in a common day, but they had spent enough time together that Lauren practically forgot she disliked him to the point of absolute distrust.
She nodded, and Darren sweetly held her neck and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"You'll be alright." He said. "Just, please, be careful once you're in there."
Darren's head was hitting him with one hundred of horrifying possibilities of that situation turning out wrong enough to put Lauren in severe danger, but he knew that this was their only chance, and that it could go just right as it could go bad.
Lauren nodded again, suddenly a bit out of words. "I'll open the back door for you guys, to be safer."
Joe squatted in front of the wall, and Lauren put her feet on his shoulders –for the first time thankful that they were wide, her hands against the wall to support her weight in the case she lost equilibrium. Thank god she had good balance. Joe grabbed her ankles firmly and slowly stood up.
Lauren told herself to do anything but looking down. She sighed once the window was at her sight, in front of her. She stuck her arm inside, her hand groping for the support rod that kept the window in that angle. She needed to unlock it so the window would open completely, but it seemed to be out of her reach, and since the inside was out of her vision it was just impossible to locate. She stretched her arm as much as it was possible, feeling a mild pain in her shoulder.
"You got it?" Darren's distant voice asked.
"I'm trying." Lauren's tone was desperate. She was standing on her tiptoes, trying to find the rod, and any small movement could make her fall down.
She finally groped the metallic object and her body instantly tensed. Unlocking it was a hard work in that position, and having a dry, less numb hand would've been a big help; but she made it after a while. The window practically fell towards the wall, inside, due the abrupt action, making a loud ramble. Lauren's eyes widened, and she waited a while for something to happen. But there was nothing except darkness and silence inside.
Climbing up the window was like a piece of cake after that task. She hunched into herself as much as it was possible to pass her legs through the window and allow herself to land. It wasn't the most graceful landing neither, but she made it in one piece and that was enough.
Lauren didn't dare to turn on the lights of the room, but she still could see enough to know it was a bathroom. She had fallen on the shower.
She walked out, through a hall, until she reached the enormous living room. Everything was dark and silent as well, and there weren't any signs of people being there recently. It almost seemed like a house a family cleans before going on a long vacation. It was clear that there was nobody in there.
The living room led to the kitchen, where she ventured to turn on the lights. She had leaved a trace of water in her path. She wanted a warm bath more than anything else.
When she opened the door, the two boys were already waiting.
"There's nobody here." She informed.
"Good."
They rushed to get in, finally being safe from the storm. A thunder echoed furiously as the rain started to fall harder. Lauren closed the door.
They had their hair completely wet, adhered to their faces, and feet almost numb from the cold.
"I'm tempted to get a hot bath and put on some silk bathrobe, to be honest." Joe said sarcastically, passing the kitchen door, lighting his way with the torch he had brought, until he found the light switch of the living room. He inspected the house, debating whether he was more disgusted or impressed, "Where are we doing this?"
"His bedroom." Darren said firmly. "It must be upstairs."
Another thunder, this time closer. Lauren gasped lowly; her startle response was altered every time she illegally broke into someone's house. Practically simultaneously, a quiet bang resounded somewhere in the house as the lights went off in the entire house.
"I'm pretty sure that was the voltage circuit breaker." Darren mumbled, "Joe's got a torch. Maybe we should just do it in the dark."
"That's silly, I'll find the switch and you guys can start without me." Lauren suggested, grabbing Joe's torch, who seemed too immersed revising Michael's shelves furniture to notice.
"I'll go upstairs then." Darren announced. "Jo?"
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." Joe said. His eyes were fixed on a portrait he had found.
Lauren glanced at it for a moment and realized it was a family portrait. He was watching Michael's sister. She noticed, but she didn't say anything and went through the hallway, still looking for the switch. Lauren wondered if he had noticed all of his pictures with her were gone.
There was a heaviness in her chest she didn't shake off easily.
Darren avoided entering into the first room at the left in the first floor when he noticed it was the bathroom. He opened the door of the second room, but it was too dark to see a thing, so he walked inside, with slow careful steps not to trip over anything.
Instead, he sensed a sudden pain on his shoulder as he was pulled back. An arm surrounded his neck to the point of almost chocking him, and he instinctively tried to pull it away with his hands, nails sticking into the skin of this sudden aggressor, but another hand twisted his arm behind him, and that other urgent pain caused him a reflex of bowing mildly over himself. Whoever this was, he was not only strong but also was highly instructed to fight someone. He gave a few clumsy steps trying to get away from that suffocating grip, and while he did dragged his attacked a bit, he failed to push him away.
Then, the lights went on and he could only ask, angry at himself for not preventing it:
"Who told you?" His voice came out thin since he couldn't catch enough air.
"I think you know." Michael replied, standing up in front of him and observing his failed struggle to escape.
He should've yelled to warn Joe and Lauren downstairs, and he knew he should have. But the scream didn't come to his body. So he did the only thing he could, that was letting himself be pushed onto the violet carpet in Michael Perkins' bedroom floor. He placed his head to the side to avoid a rough bump, but the knee that was then pressed on his back with the weight of a man, and the yank of his arms being pulled backwards to the point of movement impairment, caused a pain that sort of blinded everything else.
He could breathe, but the air struggled his way inside of him. Michael was saying something, but Darren couldn't listen. The next thing he was aware of, was Joe walking in the room, watching that landscape gave him such a big shock that he became speechless.
"Of course you'd be here." Michael observed. Darren became uninteresting, and he walked near the new guest, when Lauren entered behind Joe.
Michael's eyes widened noticeably.
"Well, this is a surprise." He commented, suddenly much more entertained. "Lopez, I thought you'd be one to know that it's rude to burst into people's houses?"
"You know what is rude?" Lauren didn't even try to contain the answer, giving a step as she angrily let out, "Attacking someone in their birthday party, in their own house!"
Joe pulled from her arm to move her away from Perkins. That could not be smart.
"Technically, you walked away from your house when it happened." Michael replied. He seemed to be having a casual, slightly interesting conversation.
"Because you tricked me into it. And you stepped in my own house knowing how things were."
He snorted, "Every single time I've entered into your house, I had been invited. Every single time; if that bothers you it's irrelevant. You, by the contrary, decided that it was okay to come into my own bedroom when you thought I wasn't here." He made a pause, "I'd also watch that tone if I were you."
"You're not precisely the victim here, Perkins. Stop trying to make yourself look like one." Joe said, though he did control the volume of his voice.
"No, but at least I have some manners, you know?"
He grabbed the bag from Joe's hands and turned it upside down over the wardrobe, at the height of his diaphragm. He seemed a bit confused as he inspected the things they had brought.
"So, what was exactly the plan?" He asked, curious. "Are you going to tell me or do we have to bargain?"
Silence. None of them dared to answer anything, as if they've made a silent bow.
"Let's, then." Perkins sighed, then walked back to Joe again. "Give me your jacket."
Joe just looked at him. He didn't move at all.
Perkins made a movement and pulled a gun from his back pocket. Darren and Joe seemed to have guessed it, but it was only then when Lauren felt genuinely afraid. She truly did not know that man. What was Michael capable of?
He pointed the semi-automatic pistol to Joe's chest first.
"The jacket."
Joe continued staring into his eyes, defiantly and angrily, like if he made clear that he wasn't quitting yet, but he took off his leather jacket and handed it to him with an abrupt movement.
Michael inspected every pocket and fold. There was nothing inside except cigars and a pair of keys.
"Tyler, let's check if our friend's got something over there."
The pressure on Darren's back became stronger as there were hands revising his clothes. He grunted lowly, the pain was almost unbearable, and he needed to take a deep breath that seemed uncatchable.
"He's clear." The voice above him said. Only then he recognized who it was.
"Which leads us to…"
Michael pointed the gun towards her this time, and she felt like fainting, though she did not.
"Leave her the fuck out of this." Darren couldn't yell, but still made himself hearable.
"Do it yourself so I don't have to look like an ass, sweetie." He ordered contemptuously.
Lauren waited a few seconds before putting her hands inside the visible pockets of her jacket and turning them inside out. They were empty.
"Let me see inside." Michael suggested, inconveniently close. He would not keep his eyes off her.
She knew they were screwed in that moment.
"I don't have any more pockets." She lied, opening only slightly her jacket, but when she was going to close it, Michael's hand prevented it.
"Are you sure?"
Lauren was sure she was shaking from head to toes during the slow movement in which he slid his hand all the way to the bottom of the jacket.
"Bingo." He whispered.
Michael was so calm it was terrifying. He always seemed to be, and this wasn't the exception. Of course he had his reasons to be; of course. He had a gun, a custodian that knew how to handle a fight, and it was his house. He had one hundred percent of the control once again.
He turned around the device in the pale fingers of his left hand, playing with it, while his right hand continued holding the gun, though it wasn't pointing to anyone.
"I'm failing to connect the pieces of this. What was the plan?"
Silence again. Michael was starting to get visibly more impatient.
"I'm going to ask you one more time." He pointed the pistol right to Joe's face, though he didn't move, not even one molecule of air. "What was the plan?"
It was silence once more. Lauren couldn't stand it. What if he really did shoot?
"There's nothing of your interest in there. We were just going to paint a message for you and then leave. That's all." She finally let out. Though her voice trembled a bit and the words sort of stumbled within another, she sounded reasonable.
"That's a sweet move." He admired, impressed, lowering the gun again. "What were you going to write?"
Lauren answered before Joe had the chance to say something rude and stupid.
"Just to let you know what we did."
"And that the worst is coming." Joe couldn't stop himself.
"I can't wait." Perkins simply said, like if the thought excited him.
"Is this entertaining for you? It's so easy to toy with people when you're always the one with the power. It's easy to play games when you're out of the battlefield. You're always the one behind the gun, whatsoever. You're always the one that sends people to do the dirty job. What's the merit if you never get your hands dirty? Of course, that changes when it's a relative that wouldn't put up with your bullshit. But that, I suppose, lies on the certainty that you know that when you're on your own, you're the one that ends up spending four weeks in the hospital –and just with the touch of two hands!"
Though it was frightening every time –any time– that a gun was pointed to somebody, this time it seemed more determined to have a purpose. He had unlocked the safety catch and Joe could stare right inside of the muzzle without an effort.
"Shut the fuck up!" For the first time, Perkins seemed truly angry instead of calm. Obviously, that memory still hit on a fresh wound.
He had lost it within just thirty seconds only with the power of a few words.
"You're gonna shoot me? Go ahead." Joe didn't even seem scared, his face had become mad red, but he was utterly certain of what he was doing. He grabbed the tip of the pistol, and pressed it onto his forehead. "Shoot me."
"Joe, stop." Darren cried, struggling in vain to get away from Tyler's grip. The situation had gone way out of their hands.
Perkins grinned ghoulishly, but his eyes were wide open and his hand was trembling slightly. He was furious, but afraid.
"You think I'm too much of a coward to do it?" He challenged him. They were so close to each other that their voices had quieted without having them notice it.
"No," Joe said firmly. "I know you're too much of a coward to do it."
A lot of things then happened hastily. Simultaneously, Joe's head moved to a side as his hand sharply clutched Perkins' wrist and twisted it to the opposite side where he had moved. One fragment of a second after doing this, he duck down enough to wrap his other arm on the back of Perkins' knees, in that exact spot that destabilizes people. Michael fell to one side with a violent hit, and somewhere along that mess, whether from the abrupt and unexpected charge from Joe or purposively to hurt him, the pistol was shot, and the bullet hit the elegant floor lamp in the corner of the room, which blasted into little pieces of glass in the surroundings.
Tyler had stood up in an attempt to help Michael, but Darren knew he couldn't miss the chance –even when his brain was telling him that the priority in that moment was to catch air–, so he hurled himself as he could to tackle Tyler. Fortunately, he had done it in the precise moment to make him fall. The spry boy was smart enough to fall onto his arms to lessen the hit. Darren knew he had no chance to win that encounter if he stood up again, so within the second Tyler was trying to stand on his feet, Darren grabbed his hair and smacked his head with all the strength he could gather against the edge of the feet of the bed.
It was a severe injury, maybe more severe than what he needed it to be; he could tell that right away. The side of his head instantly started to pour gushes of blood that slid to his neck and chest. But he was still somehow conscious, though he did not stand up.
Meanwhile, Joe had managed to twist Michael's wrist to the point of numbing it. The gun fell to the floor, away from his reach, since he was lying down and Joe had immobilized him. Joe kicked him in the stomach with a knee to prevent him from moving for a moment more, as he crawled to get the gun.
Lauren hadn't known how to react. There wasn't much she could do, neither, having in mind the people involved exceeded her, physically, in experience and in audacity. She didn't think she would dare to hold a gun in her entire life, less to point it to someone.
Joe helped Darren to stand up. Darren had a whitish hue, but he was gaining the color back as he breathed deeply. There was a wound at the side of his head, too, but there wasn't a red river of blood emerging from it like Tyler.
Joe pointed the gun at Perkins.
"Outside." He ordered, pointing with his head to the glass door behind them that lead to the balcony, to the storm. "Come on, now."
He wasn't going to allow themselves to find out there was another gun, or another secret being kept in that room. They had nothing to save them once they were out.
Perkins looked suddenly serene again. There still was anger in his eyes, but he wasn't that stupid. He wouldn't take the risk.
"You too, stand up." Joe didn't have mercy of the presumable contusion Tyler had. He kicked him softly in the leg, twice, to rush him, "Outside. Come on."
He finally obeyed and followed Michael as it was possible through the glass door, to the balcony. Joe had never lowered the gun. Darren was right behind him.
Lauren followed them outside. The rain was falling so harshly on them that their vision was a bit compromised.
"I've fantasized about this so much." Joe said, not loudly, nor madly. "Having you like this. Though, I must say, most times I thought about doing it with my hands. You know, much more lingering and… private. But this could not be so bad. Imagine your body falling backwards to the pool, your blood merging with the water. So poetic."
"What do you want?" Michael was motionless, but his eyes were reddish and his voice weakened from fear.
"I want my friend back." Joe replied slowly, looking at him to the eyes. "Can you give me that?"
"It wasn't even me who did it." Michael was crying and it was tremendously delightful.
"You were always the one behind it." Darren said, bitterly. He had planned to not intervene, but he couldn't avoid it if he was going to defend himself from killing Rick.
"Not with that." Michael tried to explain. "That was –"
"I don't want to hear this." Darren said, stressed. He looked at Joe and whispered, "Give me the gun."
Joe didn't doubt it for a second, but he didn't move away. Instead, Darren stepped closer to Michael. Nearly intimately closer.
Perkins had stepped backwards thorough that time, enough to hit the railing of the balcony. He glanced behind him, to the pool underneath. Despite Joe had given an entire discourse about murdering him, he seemed to think that Darren was the one with enough reasons, and that was why he was considering alternatives.
"Listen, I've gone hunting with my father my entire childhood, so trust me, I will still be able to catch you if you run. I could throw you in the air like a boomerang and still don't miss to aim to your brains."
Lauren mistrusted Michael. She even mistrusted Joe. But she hadn't stopped for a goddamned minute to wonder what Darren was also capable of.
"Darren, don't. He's not worth to end up in prison all your life."
She had to raise the volume of her voice to be heard over the sound of the rain.
"You wouldn't be able to take the guilt." Michael was quick to join Lauren's argument, which upset her immensely.
"Oh, shut up, nobody's talking to you." Lauren walked closer to them, but she didn't touch Darren. He was too immersed on his decision.
"I already feel guilt." Darren said, then directed the gun to Michael's right temple. Life was one minimal movement of an index finger to change for everyone. Michael gasped loudly. "What's another crossed sin on my checklist?"
Lauren didn't know how to make him understand that it'd make a difference. She later understood that she couldn't do it, because it wasn't her choice to make. You can't stop people from ruining their lives, if that's what they want to.
Maybe, deep down, Michael Perkins knew Darren wasn't capable of murder. Maybe everyone present knew. But Michael Perkins was the one who dared to throw himself backwards, into the pool that was several feet under them, and to drag Darren along with him, gun and everything.
After a second, there was a loud splash.
"Oh, God." Lauren reclined on the railing, but beneath them, with the rain falling so intensely, it was only visible a blurred silhouette of a tussle within the water.
Tyler, with his low capacity of movement and all, seized this to grab Lauren by the waist, and attempted to pull her over to the floor. Lauren screamed for a brief moment, before Joe was swift enough to aim an elbow towards his face, then pushed him to the railing until he fell to the pool as well.
Lauren was sort of stunned by the fact that Joe had saved her to say anything.
Then, Joe started to take off his shoes really quickly.
"What are you doing?" Lauren almost yelled at him. At that point she didn't know what the hell was going on.
"Go outside and start our bikes." Joe ordered her. With all the rain that'd be no simple task. "The keys are in my jacket. We're getting the fuck out of here, now."
He climbed to the railing and jumped to the pool. He and Michael were the only ones that did it purposively, which allowed them to take control of the situation. So Joe was able to stuck his head to the surface quite rapidly, while Lauren didn't lose time and did what he told her.
Tyler was on the floor, next to the pool, coughing, and this time he seemed truly incapable of moving. There was blood in the pool, and Joe wondered if it was his. He hoped it so.
He swam to the place where he spotted Perkins, who hadn't noticed him, and the situation was then clear. Michael was trying to drown Darren, pushing him down in the water, and he was succeeding. Bubbles of air were escaping to the surface, and there were waves provoked by the attempt of Darren to break himself free.
Joe grabbed Michael's blond hair and pulled from it violently. The movement was unexpected and rough enough for him to let go. Before Perkins had the chance to fight back, he punched him twice on the face. He probably had broken his nose the second time, since it started bleeding, and he covered it with his hands as he whimpered. Fortunately, Perkins was neither a nifty fighter nor had a high pain threshold. He wasn't much of a threat alone and without a gun.
The gun…
Darren's kind of blue face emerged to the surface and he started coughing uncontrollably. He couldn't see a damn thing, so he didn't know where to head to come out of the pool. He felt Joe's arms guiding him and practically dragging him to the floor.
He couldn't stop the coughing no matter how much he tried to, and he couldn't breathe neither, so he let himself spit all the water in his lungs for a long while. The anxiety lessened when he could stop. Then, he breathed deeply one, two, three times. The surroundings were becoming clearer. He was lying on the floor in Perkins' house, in New York, he remembered in his head to ground himself.
Then he recognized Joe's naked feet. He sat up when he was able to, and looked around.
Perkins was fifty feet away from him. He wasn't coughing, but he was covered in blood –face, shirt, and feet. He had twisted his ankle, likely against the edge of the pool while falling, and a small part of it was raw flesh. Other than that, he looked miserable, but he wasn't attempting to do anything.
"You all right?"
Darren nodded, but accepted Joe's help to stand up once more.
"Go get the pen-drive. We're leaving immediately."
"And Lauren…?"
"She's outside with the bikes. And, Darren," Joe added, "hurry the fuck up. I'll be there in a minute."
Darren was too dizzy to make questions. He did as Joe said, ran upstairs and got the memory. Then ran downstairs again, climbed the gate and looked for the bikes. He asked to himself if it would stop raining sometime.
He was surprised that Joe wasn't there yet. Both bikes were on, so he climbed his.
"Are you okay?" He asked as Lauren climbed behind him.
"Physically, yes. And you?"
"Physically, I'll survive." Darren said, impatient, "What the hell is Joe doing?"
It was almost supernatural, but after he asked it, the sound of a shot came from within the house.
"What the fuck?" Darren became paralyzed. But he had been in the garden literally three minutes ago, and everything was in control. They were leaving immediately, Joe said.
Two shots more, one following the other.
"Shit." Darren climbed off the bike the fastest he could.
"Darren, wait!" Lauren cried. "You can't go back in there just like that!"
"I am not going to leave him there, Lauren."
But Joe was running through the front door as Darren walked to the gate. Apparently, without any severe injuries.
"What the fuck was that?" Darren asked him, while Joe was climbing down the gate.
"Perkins was trying to shoot me while I was walking away. But he didn't get me." Joe explained.
Darren didn't remember to had seen Michael with the gun, and he didn't understand how he'd get it. He doubted he could stand up by himself. But he might've seen wrong, since his sight was still messed up at that time.
They rode in the bikes away from there the fastest it was possible. They only made one stop in the whole trip, in which Lauren gave them back their jackets and Joe's shoes.
"Thanks." Joe said, slightly shaking –probably from the cold, that was becoming a relevant issue again. "Riding a Harley while barefoot, not a great idea."
"Do you think he's okay?" Lauren asked to Darren while they got in the road again, finally heading home. "That guy you hit. His head looked really bad."
Darren speeded up. The answer was delayed, like if he was near holding it, but finally decided to not do it so.
"Don't get me wrong, Lauren," Darren sighed, "but I really don't give a fuck."
A/N: I spent SO MUCH TIME writing this stupid chapter. Like, hours and hours and hours.
Reading reviews and getting likes and all that support makes me incredibly happy, and motivates me to continue, please please keep them coming.
I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG! But tell me what you guys think of this? Thank you for reading!