Jaded Page 28

He kicked a tire and spat out, “A flat.”

“How?” I asked and glanced at my driveway.

My eyes found some spikes with steel-pointed edges that had been laid across my driveway.

“What the hell?” I asked as I knelt for a closer look. They were attached to a cord.

Each end had been clamped down by some steel rods that were used to secure tents into the ground.

Just then we heard a squeal of tires and a truck roared past us. As they passed, the window opened and a brick was thrown at us. It smashed into Corrigan’s back windshield. After it peeled around the corner and the engine sound faded, I didn’t have to look at Corrigan. I already knew he was furious. When Corrigan was livid, he was silent.

When he was pissed, he cursed, complained, and threatened.

Corrigan was silent.

“Do you know—” I managed out before he cut me off.

“Yerling,” He spat harshly and cursed savagely. “Yerling.”

He fell silent again.

I sighed and pulled up the rods that had been stuck into the ground. I rolled up the cord with all the spikes and stood there. Corrigan hadn’t moved. His jaw clenched every now and then.

We stood there for awhile before I started his car and moved it to the side.

When I got back out, Corrigan must’ve clamped enough control over his fury because he opened his trunk and changed his tire. He threw his old one into the trunk and grabbed the keys from my hand. He peeled out of my driveway without a goodbye.

CHAPTER TEN

I sighed as I walked towards my house. I already knew Corrigan would get revenge. He was the joker, the player, but he also had a temper and a penchant for ending up in jail. I figured I should make a trip to the bank, just in case I got another phone call asking for bail in the middle of the night.

When I entered my house, I walked through the garage to make sure my cars were all fine and left untouched.

They were.

Yerling hadn’t broken into my garage. If he had broken into my house, the alarm would’ve sounded and my phone would’ve rang with a police report.

As I passed the front entrance into the kitchen, I noticed something on the ground.

Another note.

You didn’t take the first note serious. It wasn’t a warning. Adhere the grave circumstances if this note is thrown to the side as well.

To the trash it went.

I grabbed a can of soda and got into my car. The first stop was the bank, just in case. I withdrew two grand because I never knew what would happen with Corrigan. His bail had been a thousand one time and three hundred another time. Judging from his fury, I didn’t think he would be content just trashing Yerling’s car.

When I pulled into the Café Diner’s parking lot, I saw that Bryce’s car was there.

He sat at the same booth in the back section. Chet, Holster, and Evan Harris sat with him.

Becky Lew sat at a different table, across from theirs. The guys seemed to be ignoring the girls, while the girls were pissed that their flirting wasn’t getting them attention.

Bryce’s eyes found me and he nodded in greeting.

Chet stood and moved beside Holster and Harris.

I took his seat beside Bryce.

“You talk to Corrigan within the last hour?” I asked.

The guys quieted.

Bryce frowned slightly and shook his head. He asked, “Should I have?”

“Yerling put some tire slashes on my driveway. Corrigan lost a tire from it and his back windshield got smashed up. Yerling threw a brick as they drove off.”

Chet started laughing. The rest of the guys all mirrored his amusement.

Bryce shook his head with a resigned look in his eyes. He murmured, “I should head to the bank.”

“Already did,” I told him.

Chet barked out a laugh at that. “Oh god. That’s hilarious.”

Harris leaned forward and asked, delight in his eyes, “So Sheldon, are you really coming to my party? It’s tomorrow night, you know.”

I cast a lazy eye over him and shrugged, “I’ll try.”

Bryce wasn’t listening.

“What do you think he’ll do?” I asked.

“With him—who knows,” Bryce muttered, frowning.

“Didn’t Corrigan light a shed on fire once because someone messed up his locker?” Chet asked.

Bryce swore.

“Imagine what he’s going to do for his car getting messed up.”

I swore.

“Yerling’s going to the morgue if he keeps pissing off Corrigan,” Holster remarked.

The guys all had the same sudden wariness now.

“Keeps pissing off Corrigan? What do you mean?” I was in the dark here. And I knew I didn’t enjoy being in the dark, something else had happened.

Chet frowned and glanced to Bryce.

Holster and Harris both looked away. Sometimes I thought they were spineless, but then again—they were followers. I’d witnessed when those guys had waded through fire if Bryce, Chet, or Corrigan told them to. They weren’t spineless, but wary at times.

And they had reason to be.

“What am I missing?” I looked at all four of them and ended with Bryce. He had been watching me with an emotion I couldn’t name. A knot of dread suddenly took root in my stomach.

Oh god.

“What is going on?”

“Uh…” Bryce started, but fell silent.

Chet cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Uh…Yerling’s been pushing the envelope lately. He’s been…he’s been—”

“A psycho lately,” Holster said flatly.

Chet threw him a frown, but resumed, “Yeah, well, he’s been off his rocker lately.

Remember that day in here when he…”

“I remember,” I said dryly. I’d been there. I didn’t need to remember when he’d made me scared—pansy.

“Well…the truth is that Yerling had done something to another girl this past weekend. And—” Chet gave Bryce a beseeching look.

Bryce coughed and finished, calmly, “Yerling hurt a girl at my party Friday night.”

“What?” I hadn’t heard anything about that.

“And on Sunday night, he made a few not-pretty comments about you—about what he’d like to do to you. We’ve been kinda watching him ever since then.”

“He knew the score!” Harris burst out. “You told him that if he hurt anyone else or even looked like he might hurt someone that you’d put him down. He’s asked for what’s coming to him.”

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