Page 43 of Elusive

“You grab Camden, I got Ryder,” JT hollers back… and I start trying to figure out which fucking one in the mayhem is Camden. “Brynn, Bellamy, sound the fuck off, now! Where y’all at? You safe?”

“We’re right here, together. Safe,” Bellamy screams.

“Right where? Fuck it, just… just get back, not too far. P? Talk to me!” I take too long to answer for her, let him know she’s okay, busy picking out Camden and putting his punk ass in check. So when he asks again, his fear booms over his fury. “Presley, where the fuck are you? Answer me, goddammit!”

“She’s good, up on the deck. Told her not to move.” I look back as I tell him, needing to lay eyes on her, but can’t see through the crowd… which raises my anger to lethal levels. Yeah, I’m fucking done with this “whose dick is bigger” bullshit, and since I’m bigger than both their squirrely asses put together, I get to decide when it ends.

That’d be now.

“J, you grab the girls and get back to Pres. Meet ya there. I’ve got this shit.”

“You sure?”

“More than. Now go, get your ass back to Presley!”

“On it.”

I shake off the wave of leeriness that hits me, chalking it up to losing direct sight of her, and crash all the way up in Dumb and Dumber’s little pissin’ match. “Alrighty boys, that’s enough, your panties are showin’.” I send Camden flying somewhere to the left, while wrapping a hand around Ryder’s throat and picking him up off the ground. “You’re done too.”

“The hell I am!” He spits on the ground; blood I’m guessing. “That prick, supposedly a friend of mine, knows Brynn’s with me.” He tries jerking from my grasp… doesn’t work out well for him. “Let go, Sutton. This isn’t your fight, and you know his ass deserves everything I give him.”

“Don’t know, or care, about a damn thing other than the three ladies here with us. They’re the priority. I got no time to be babysitting your dumbass. I like ya, Ryder, I do, but let’s be real. Camden didn’t exactly drag Brynn here tonight. She came of her own free-will, because she wanted to. Might wanna ask herwho she’s with before wastin’ any more energy rollin’ around on the ground with a dude who may already have ya bested. Feel me?”

“He’s got shit bested. Brynn’s just being nice, like she always is, to everyone. He’s taking advantage of her good nature.”

“Guess you’ll know for sure when you talk to her.” Having said all I care to, I turn to go, at the same exact time Camden decides to come back for more, I stop his ass cold, using my left hand to put him in a neck-lock, my right on Ryder’s chest, holding them as far apart as my arms will stretch.

They don’t take the hint and start flinging arms, twisting their bodies, all sorts of chickens-with-their-heads-cut-off looking shit to try and break loose and get at each other, so I make shit real clear. “Y’all are pissing me off again. I’m about five seconds from showing ya both what getting your ass whipped really feels like. Last warning. Camden, walk-”

“Sutton! Time to go, come on!” Bellamy’s suddenly at my side, tugging on my sleeve.

Second time tonight I’ve been desperately “beckoned,” first time it’s sent my blood running cold.

“What’s wrong?” The inkling in the pit of my stomach I brushed aside earlier returns with a violent, full force vengeance.

“It’s P… Presley,” she stammers out what I somehow knew, feared most, she was gonna say.

“What about her?” I roar, dropping the two schmucks flat on their asses and grabbing Bellamy’s hand. “You lead, take me to her. What’s happening?” I ask as we run. “Bellamy, talk! What’s wrong with Presley?”

“I’m not sure. Something, someone, I don’t know,” she wails, not making headway through the crammed house near fast enough for me, so I scoop her up in my arms. “They’re at Jefferson’s car, she’s upset.”

“Tuck against me, don’t want ya hurt.” She listens, ducking her head and curling into me as I part the crowd like a linebacker… on a homicidal rampage. “Move or die,” I give one loud warning, and most folks quickly scatter, those who don’t, get shoulder-checked the fuck out of my way. “Where’s he parked?”

Now that I have us out front, she lifts her head and looks around. “Down there.” She points, hand visibly shaking. “By that sign. See the light on?”

“Got it. Hold on tight,” I grunt, and take off in a mad sprint, and only speed-up until we get to them.

Not sure if I set Bellamy down, she jumped, or I’m still holding her — couldn’t tell ya my own name right now — my sole focus, is on Presley. She’s deathly pale, fresh tears retracing their tracks down her cheeks, trembling so hard her teeth are chattering, and fighting for each shallow breath. I can’t think, move, and almost don’t recognize her… the strongest girl I know… absolutely broken.

“What the fuck happened?” My sweet girl flinches at the murderous rage in my roar, so I force myself to at least act rational, for her, and try again, this time in as soothing a tone as I can manage. “Sugar, talk to me, what is it? Are you hurt?” My eyes rake over her, finding no obvious wounds. She can’t answer me, and again I lose control, my fear-fueled ignorance booming, “J, what the hell happened to her? Somebody bettertell me something, real fuckin’ fast!” I start to pick Presley up, hold her, so close that nothing ever hurts her again, but she thrashes away from my touch as if convulsing and JT grabs my arm.

“Don’t. Don’t touch her right now.”

“Why not? What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?” My whole body shakes with the ferocity I keep from my eerily calm questions.

“You’ve gotta tone it down, man. Need ya with your shit together right now, can’t be worrying about both of you. And please tell me you drove your truck tonight?”

“I did.” I nod, worried-sick stare still locked on Presley.

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