“Ask Mr. Big, the security guy in there. He knows as much as I do. I have to go make sure Kirby is all right.”
“I told you-”
“I’m not a flight risk. I’m not going anywhere.” And he’d never been so certain of that in his life as he was now. The sheer terror he’d felt when he’d thought anything might happen to her-He pulled his arm free and made a move through the door. “You know where to find me when you’re done here.” He didn’t wait to hear anything else, but hit the stairs and started running.
Chapter 20
By the time Brett got to the inn, his heart was lodged in his throat. The bad sensation in his gut had only gotten stronger the closer to home he’d gotten. And still nothing from Dan.
He almost laid the bike on its side in his hurry to get up the hill, park, and get inside the house. There were lights on and everything looked perfectly peaceful, like any other evening, from the outside. But then, his hotel room had appeared normal, too.
He ran through the front door and immediately checked himself, made himself slow down. With everything else she’d been through today, Kirby didn’t need him racing into whatever room she was in looking like an out-of- control wild man. Though that’s exactly how he felt.
He blew out a heavy breath, trying to get a grip on himself, but before he could call out to her, he heard voices. Coming from…the kitchen? Whatever calm he might have found deserted him completely as he headed through the foyer to the dining room, barely clipping the foyer furniture and dining room table, only to come to an immediate halt when he finally hit the kitchen and saw who Kirby was talking to.
“Dan?”
His friend was sitting at one end of the middle butcher block counter on a stool. Kirby was at the opposite end, also sitting. But after a quick, life-affirming glance at Kirby, who appeared fine, his gaze went right back to Dan, who looked anything but. If someone had used his face for a punching bag the night before, they’d gone on to take out considerable frustration on the rest of his body today, if the torn shirt, bloody stain on one shoulder, and half- swollen, ravaged face was anything to go by.
“What the hell?”
“Brett, my man,” he said, trying to smile, then wincing when it pulled at skin that couldn’t handle any more movement at the moment. He seemed…not drunk, exactly. High?
Brett couldn’t tell. “What the hell happened?”
“You’ve been to the hotel?”
“Yes. Police are there, paramedics.”
Kirby’s eyes widened, though her gaze would go to him, then right back to Dan. She had looked calm enough when he’d come in, but now that he’d had a moment to focus, he realized…she might appear to be okay, but she was terrified. Her hands were knotted together on the kitchen counter and the set of her shoulders was rigid. He started to walk over to her.
“Let’s just stay where you are. For now,” Dan said.
He glanced from Kirby to Dan again. “I don’t underst-”
Then Dan lifted the hand that was in his lap behind the counter…revealing the gun he was holding.
“Jesus, Dan. Man, what the hell is going on here? This is not a good idea. Where did you get the-”
“Well, I thought it would be a good idea to keep Maks from beating the hell out of me with it, before he decided to shoot me. It was self-defense.”
“Why was Maks beating you?”
“Do I really have to spell that out for you?”
Brett had no idea what was going on, but walking into the middle of this was like walking into the middle of a nightmare that made no sense, and he couldn’t slow his brain down enough to grasp it. “Listen, we’ll make this work out. If it was self-defense, then that’s what it was. But you need to put the gun down. This isn’t going to help. But I can. Let me help you, let-”
Dan erupted in a painful gurgle of laughter. “Right, right. Let you
Brett immediately put his hands out. “Okay, okay. I know we can figure this out, but Dan, you have to put the gun down to make that work.”
“No point in that now. Can’t you see that? You saw Maks, right? You know?”
It was all too surreal. Maks’s body in his hotel room, Dan sitting in Kirby’s kitchen waving a gun about. Like he’d left Pennydash earlier today with Kirby and found the answer to all his dreams, only to come back home to some kind of alternate universe nightmare. “I saw Maks,” he said, trying like hell not to picture that in his head. He needed to keep his wits about him, and at the moment, that was going to take immeasurable focus. “What happened? Start at the beginning.” Maybe if he could get Dan talking in some kind of rational form, he could figure their way out of this and no one else would get hurt.
“Put it together, man,” Dan said, agitated. “All the shit that went down back home? Me here, Maks here? Come on, you’re the college degreed rocket scientist here.”
Brett just stared at his friend. Or the man who used to be his friend. He didn’t recognize the man seated in front of him now. It was like he was talking to a complete stranger. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The room was chilly, and not just because Dan was sitting there, half unhinged, terrifying both him and Kirby, albeit for different reasons. Then he realized the back door to the porch was open, letting in the chill night air. Was that how he’d gotten in?
Brett contemplated heading over to close the door, which meant he either had to circle around behind Kirby, which was the long route, but that would give him a chance to block her at least momentarily from Dan’s site range. Maybe give her a chance to duck down and escape the kitchen. Or circle around behind Dan. Maybe disarm him. Somehow.
Brett looked at the back door. Then he caught Kirby’s gaze from the corner of her eye, trying to somehow mentally signal to her what he wanted to do so she could get herself out of harm’s way once he made his move. But all he got from her was an almost imperceptible shake of the head.
He looked back at Dan. “Are you saying that what happened tonight-here with the laundry out back, and with Maks at the resort, has something to do with what was happening out in Vegas?”
“Give the man a gold star,” Dan said, his clearly barely controlled anger turning snide and even uglier.
Then the pieces tumbled into place. “Wait-”
Dan turned to Kirby and waved the gun in her direction as well, making Brett’s heart stop completely. “
Brett was only half hearing his snidely delivered commentary; his brain was spinning, almost out of control as every piece of the puzzle finally shifted to make the right picture. “They weren’t coming after me. Maks and Rudov. They were coming after…”
“Me,” Dan supplied. “I was this close to making the money back. While you were playing. Even after you quit, I thought I had it. We were a team, man. A team. It was all going to be okay; I just had to hold them off a while longer. Then you go and fucking leave and I have no chance to recoup my losses.”
“Gambling debts? That’s what this is about? Since when did you-”
“The business was in trouble, Brett. Dad didn’t exactly stick around to help with the transition, you know? And you. Just when I think I’m good to go, you working the circuit, you up and quit.”
“Wait, you…bet on me? On the events?” He thought about what Maks had said, about overhearing Dan trying to get some game action while at the bar.
Dan shrugged, seemingly unashamed by his actions, belligerent almost. “Sometimes I bet against you, too. I could always kind of tell when you were hitting burnout stage, figured my chances were better going with number two then.”
