Page 133 of Inside the Wicked

“Holy fucking shit. What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Adam rambles. He’s losing himself, and I don’t have a shred of headspace to deal with him.

“Get the fuck out,” I order.

“I’m not leaving you guys.”

“I mean this with all the offense in the fucking world, Sullevan. You’re not useful to me here, and if I tell you to fucking jump?—”

“I jump, yeah, I got that.”

My eyes scrunch, trying to calculate more steps ahead, but it’s pretty damn hard to when there’s an explosive kid right in front of me.

“He took Ana out the back way. If you manage to see them, follow her. The others should still have orders to stop her car when they see her leaving.”

To his credit, Adam doesn’t hesitate on that command. He heads to the back of the venue, and I return my focus to Jeremy.

“It’s going to be all right, you hear me?” I say to him. The kid is lost to terror.

“Can you tell ...shit, this is really bad... tell Rix I’m sorry for disobeying this time. That I kinda wish I hadn’t now.”

“I would say this will teach you, but I’m sure that would be a lie.”

Jeremy eases a pained, trembling smile, trying not to laugh even in his delirium. “I know we’re not supposed to say this, but ... but I’m scared, Rhett. You-you always say fear is a choice, but it really fucking feels like it’s choosing me real hard right now.”

“You’re doing great, kid.”

This whole venue of overindulgent assholes is completely oblivious to the fact they could be in pieces in any wrong move or minute. I’ll admit, the darkest part of me is thinking they probably deserve it. But Jeremy most certainly doesn’t.

The relief of Rix returning is only a small reprieve. “There’s no security anymore. Dean got in through the back.”

The fact security have cleared out is bad fucking news. This was Jacob’s plan all along. I don’t know what all the bastards in here have done to deserve his wrath in being invited to this setup, but he expects this bomb to go off.

I take a deep, calming breath to keep a level head. “Okay, Rix. Pick the most deserving guy you can and follow us once we make it through the back. Jer, we’re going to go real slow. Chat to me, do whatever you have to, but keep calm and most of all steady as fuck, for the love of god.”

“I can do that,” he says, pep-talking himself. “Sure I can. It’s just nice, cushiony padding under this suit. Considerate of them to include crash equipment.”

Not quite what I meant, but whatever gets him moving calmly from here to fucking there.

Rix and I exchange a nervous look and start walking. Every step skips my pulse, every sudden laugh, clink of glass, rise of conversation. The hairs over my body are damn pinpricks.

Halfway. I’m resisting the urge to retrieve my pocket square and wipe my brow. It’s suddenly fifty degrees hotter in here.

“Young man, we’ll have two of those.” An older patron stops him.

I take a breath to collect my sanity. I refrain from the violent impulse to take the flute and jam it down his ancient throat.

Jeremy pauses then tries leaning the tray down, but he’s losing the control on his tremor, which starts to shake the liquid too noticeably. If he spills them, we’re all fucked, and we’ll risktheir outrage escalating to physical. Wrestling a human bomb would be their last mistake and all of us would pay the price.

I lean in, plucking the stupid flutes and setting them down against all etiquette. It gains the sneering looks I thought it would, but I force a casual smile.

“Kid’s first day on the job, probably his last,” I say.

They chuckle and agree, luckily losing interest quickly.

“I can’t do this, man,” Jeremy says, his resolve crumbling.

“You’re one of the bravest guys I know. Of course you can.”

“I am?”

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