“Rodger,” he says, and my eyes widen. “He and Tabatha both went to the hospital…”
I frantically start to feel the covers around me as I look for my phone. I have to have one, right?
“What are you looking for?” Jake asks.
“Phone…” Before I can say another word, he throws it in front of me. My eyes are blurry, and it’s hard to read what the tiny screen says. I somehow am able to get to the brightness, and I reduce it for my eyes to read it better. When my eyes focus, I see that I have twenty missed calls from Mr. Knight. “Fuck!” I jump out of bed and wobble on legs that feel like jelly as I grab my pants off the floor.
“Where are you going?” Jake asks. “I’m so confused,” he admits calmly, and I ignore him.
My fingers frantically work to call Mr. Knight back. I’m in the process of placing my shirt on backward when he answers.
“Dash,” he growls. “Meet me at the police station.”
“Sir…?” I need water. My tongue feels like sandpaper. “I just…Sorry…”
“Get your ass together,” he demands, and I straighten my back as if he can see me, although it doesn’t help my limp legs.
“I…”
He doesn’t allow me to explain. He can tell I’m fucked. “Rodger admitted to cutting your brakes. The cops need your statement of the incident.” What the fuck is happening?
“Tabatha…?” I remember the news mentioning her.
“She’s gonna be okay,” he says, and I let out a deep breath. “Now get up here to the station.” Click.
“Drive me to the station,” I order Blake. I don’t know what is happening, but she’s gonna be okay. That’s what is most important.
“Who the fuck is Tabatha?” Jake asks, getting concerned now. “And why are you going to the police station?”
“Why can’t you drive?” Blake asks, ignoring his older brother, as he follows me out the bedroom door.
“Because I’ve already had two shots of whiskey this morning. And I was still drunk when I woke up; I really don’t wanna get arrested today.”
***
I walk into the police station not feeling any better. The coffee that Blake stopped and made me drink has not helped my drunkenness, although I do feel like I’m on speed. My hands are jittery, but at least my legs are working. I just wanna find out what in the hell is happening and then go to bed. I plan to stay under my covers for a few days. Of course, Jake had to come along with us. He’s as nosy as a chick. I approach a police officer to ask where I need to go when I see the back of Mr. Knight’s head. My palms start to sweat when I see that Tabatha is sitting next to him. I didn’t think she would be here. Why is she here? He said she was fine. “Come on, man,” Blake say giving me a reassuring pat on the back.
I walk toward them and Mr. Knight looks over his shoulder at me. “Dash,” he says in welcoming, and I look over just in time to see her body tense from him saying my name.
“Hello, sir,” I say and have to clear my throat. God, this is hard. Hard to see her. Hard to be so near her. I hate that I care so much for her. Did he hurt her? If so, how bad?
Mr. Knight stands and places his hands on my shoulders as his black eyes stare down at me. “You look like shit, kid,” he whispers, and he starts to straighten my shirt. The same shirt that I partied in last night. The same shirt that I wore as I laid on the bathroom floor after puking up the red shit known as Fireball. I can still taste it in my mouth, and it makes me wanna vomit again. Don’t puke on your boss!
Instead, I straighten my back and try to pull myself together. “I apologize. I didn’t expect to be speaking to the police this morning,” I say through gritted teeth.
He releases me. “Come on.” He doesn’t even allow me to speak before he starts to pull me back to the front door I just came through. He all but shoves me outside, and I stumble to stand up straight.
“Good God, Erik. Have you even been to bed yet?” he asks judgingly.
I pinch my nose between my fingers as I try to squash this headache. Why is the fucking sun up? “It was a long night,” I admit. “And I have no idea what is going on.” I release the bridge of my nose and look up at him. “Why is Tabatha here? Why am I here?” I ask squinting my eyes. I need sunglasses. “I saw the news this morning. What happened to her? To Rodger?” With each word I say, I seem to sober up a little. My mind seems to be understanding that this is real life. That some horrible shit went down last night and I’m not gonna like what happened.
“Rodger admitted to cutting your brakes.”
His words make me think I’m not sobering at all.
“No. That can’t be,” I say holding my hand up to him. “Valerie admitted it to me last night at my party.” I point a finger at him. “The party you told me to throw in order to get information. And I got exactly what you wanted.” My voice starts to rise. “She admitted to fucking with my bike.” And I almost fucked her.
“I’m sure she was the one who did it, but she was not the mastermind behind it.”