Liam Davis & The Raven (25 page)

He hadn’t heard me. That much was clear. If he had, he’d have shut up quick—I was the last person he’d want to humiliate himself in front of.

I
considered sneaking back out of the office and finding a Starbucks where I could finish my article. It wasn’t ideal, but neither was listening to Jill sobbing as I worked.

Of course, the other option was to man-up and go over there. I didn’t like the fact it was probably the option Hunter and Quinn would have cheered for most.

That thought had me reluctantly picking my way over to Jill and his heaving back. I kept my stance assertive and packed with as much confidence as I could muster.

But just in case Jill wasn’t the victim Hunter thought him to be, I fished for my cellphone and
readied it.

“Jill?” I
had to make a quick decision—go to his side, or sit at Jack’s desk opposite him.

I chose Jack’s desk. Space was good.

Jill’s body went rigid, and he slowly peeled himself from his arm. He twisted his chair toward the wall where I might not see his face, but from this vantage, I already caught his teary-eyed, blotchy profile.

“What do you want, Davis?” he
asked, his voice devoid of its usual sharpness. “Or are you here to rub it in?”

I shifted,
my chair squeaking as I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the desk. “I’m the last person you want to speak to, I get that. I’m not thrilled about this either. But . . . something is up with you and has been for the past few weeks. And—let’s just put it out there—I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with you liking Jack.”

Jill
spun his chair in my direction, scowling, angry. “You don’t know
shit
.”

“You’re in the closet then.”

His face twitched from a blotchy red to something close to the color of my robe . . . or those tights I wore to the Halloween party. He stuttered, and I thought he’d yell at me again, but instead a gurgled sob escaped his throat.

“It’s more than just that,” he said, knuckles whitening around a phone.

“You told him, and he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Jill shuddered
and he focused on the phone. A tear seeped from his eye. When he didn’t say anything, I rested my cellphone on the table and took out my outline. “Tell you what,” I said, “You take your time. Talk if you want. I’m just going to sit here and do some work. But if and when you’re ready, I’ll be listening.”

I unzipped my laptop and started it up.

It was beyond awkward, working across from him as his breath shuddered and he constantly murmured “fuck.” I sat stiffly and within quick reach of my phone.

I’d done
less than ten minutes of work when he said, “You think I’m the guy, don’t you?”

I reached for my phone and brought it to my lap. “The one threatening
The Raven? I did.”

“That’s why that wheelchair dude kept harassing me about my arm.”

“His name is Hunter, and he’s the best dude you’ll ever have harassing you. How is your arm?”

“Just a sprain.”

I held his tough-guy gaze that no longer looked so tough, but rather uncertain and pained.

He passed the phone to his other hand and tapped the end of it against the edge of his desk.

“Who do you want to call?” I asked, saving my document. “Jack?”

Another sob. “
No. The police.”

I straightened, grabbed a packe
t of tissues from my bag and handed one to Jill. “Are you finally going to tell them about The Night Warrior?”

He snatched it and rubbed his nose. Through a billow of tissue paper came
, “He hurt me. He’s going to hurt again.” He glanced at his arm. “But—but I just can’t bring myself to give him up, because . . . because . . .”

“You’re afraid?” I said.

He shook his head, choking on a sob.

“You think it makes you look weak?”

“Fuck off.”

“Because you’re in the closet?”

He threw the tissue between us and banged the phone against the desk. “Because it’s
Jack
. Because I’m in love with him.”

Silence.

And then it all came crashing into place. How The Night Warrior had slipped the threat into Hannah’s mail, how I thought Freddy had known my name, why Jack had been so cold toward Jill . . .

I clutched my phone. “You need to
file a report immediately. And if you think he’s going to hurt someone, call the police. Immediately.”

Jill rubbed the top of the phone against his forehead. “Don’t you think I know that? He wants to teach
The Raven a lesson.”

“
The Raven,” I repeated. A shiver wormed its way down my spine to the tips of my toes.

“I’m in love with him.
He keeps a spare key taped to the back of his desk drawer.” Jill rummaged in his pocket and procured a key. He tossed it between us. “I stalked. Snuck into his apartment, and he has all this stuff on The Raven. He’s hated him with a passion for years. I always thought it was because he didn’t believe in using violence to stop violence.” He glanced pointedly at his arm. “I don’t think that anymore.”

I
leaped to my feet. “Do you think he’s figured out who—?”

“Yes,” Jill said, pressing something on the phone. “From the stuff I read, Jack’s been working with someone to gather information on
—and lure out—The Raven.”

“Why does he care so much?”

Jill rested the phone and swiveled his chair. He fumbled through a bag and brought out a folder-full of newspaper clippings and photos. “The Raven knocked Jack’s brother down and held him until the police arrived. He disappeared just as they pulled up.”

I took the folder. “Is this what you found at Jack’s?”

“Everything. Call me pissed, but I took it all. Among a few other things.”

I marched
to the shredder and fed every scrap of evidence about The Raven into it. Glancing out the windows, I was met with the view of Cathedral of Learning lit with featured lights.

The Raven’s gonna lose his wings

We’ll smile while he sings and sings

Then we’d love to watch him fly

Through a deep, dark, angry sky

Acid rose up my throat
as I remembered Jack saying he would be at the cathedral party to work. I sucked in a sharp breath. He was going to attack
tonight
.

Fingers trembling on my phone, I rushed out of the office, dialing the police
—

“
Someone I know is about to commit an assault . . .” Jill spoke firmly into the phone.

“Tell them
that it might be happening at the cathedral party,” I said. I barreled for the door. The police would take anywhere from seven to ten minutes to get to the cathedral?

My friends were across the street. I had to warn them.

I ran.

Chapter 19

I kept running.

I made it into the neo-gothic building, skidding around the corridor to the elevators, and pounded on the UP button.

My heart punched against my ribs. “Come on!”

The elevator dinged open, and two women spilled out laughing, one tugging the other by the hand. I squeezed past them and pressed for the 32
nd
floor, once, twice, three times.

The doors grated shut, and each second
passing made it feel like the elevator was being manually lifted. I shifted my weight, my hands clamped into balls at my side.
I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.
An age later, the doors squealed open and I skidded into the party.

T
ens of students and lecturers chattered over a live Bach pianoforte, popping
hors d'oeuvres
into their mouths. Through the thick pack of champagne-drinking tuxedos and gowns, Quinn and Hunter weren’t anywhere to be seen. Darting around a waiter in a golden waistcoat balancing a tray of caviar, I spotted Hannah near a large bookshelf, leaning against Roger, who was playing with the ends of her hair.

I pushed my way to her
, stumbling over my shoelace. “Have you seen Quinn and Shannon? Or Hunter and Mitch?”

Hannah
tilted her head. “Are you okay, Liam?”

“No
,” I said, scanning the crowd once more. “Have you seen anyone?”

“Is Hunter the one in the wheelchair?
” Hannah asked. “I saw him and another guy head into the bathrooms ten minutes ago—”

I
zipped to the bathrooms, banging my shoulder against the door in my hurry. It swung in. Cold air whistled through a partially open window, but otherwise it was unoccupied—

No.

An empty wheelchair sat in an open stall, a camera bag hanging on the back—

My head pounded, palms sweated, stomach crunched at the terror that ripped through me.
All I could think about was that threat. I saw The Raven thrown from the top of the Cathedral of Learning, tumbling, head over heels, screams lost to the rushing wind . . .

“Hunter?” I whispered, pivoting to a sharp arc as
a breeze whistled again.

A splotch of blue wedged at the corner of the windowsill caught my eye, furthering the trepidation. Blue rose petals.

Quinn.

With trembling fin
gers, I called the police again and told them there was an assault in progress. “Hurry, 32
nd
floor of the Cathedral of Learning.”

“Police are on their way.”

“They’re outside the bathrooms.”

“Remain where you are
 . . .”

A grunting cry stung through the window
gap. The phone dropped from my grip and clattered against the tile. I pushed on the foiled glass. Meeting resistance, I shoved my shoulder against it, wedging it open. I thought I’d made a fair amount of noise, but the direction of the wind and traffic and beeping horns below worked in my favor.

A dark
, stone balcony stared at me, framed by an inky sky and a smattering of city lights.

“What are you going do about it
, Raven
?”

A
judgment and a dare all at once.

Thwack
!

A gurgled gasp, followed by a cry.

Sneaking out of the window, I tiptoed to the edge of the building. My hands and cheek pressed against cold, pocked concrete, and I peered around the edge of the cornered balcony.

I absorbed the scene like I had Freddy’s punch to my gut. It took all my effort not to fold in on myself and sink into a useless puddle.

Jack stood with a gun pointed toward the ground, his body turned away from me toward Hunter, who’d been dragged into the corner of the balcony and slumped there. Mitch crouched at his side, mumbling repeatedly how sorry he was but claiming he didn’t have a choice.

Jack’s been working with someone to gather information
, lure out The Raven.

Everything about
Mitch had been a lie? But he seemed genuine. Seemed like he really cared about Hunter—

Wait. He studied
improvisational theater. Was he really that good of an actor? Was he gay at all? Had this whole thing been a set up from the moment we met?

Queasiness flared up my throat.

And
I set that upon Hunter.

God, h
ad that moment when he banged into me again at the café been part of this plan?

My weight sagged against the building as if I’d been pushed from behind, but it was Mitch’s betrayal
that weighed me down. It was the blood dripping from the corner of Hunter’s mouth.

I thought of the moment in my office
when Mitch casually held my stapler. I wanted to slam my fist down on it and puncture him, the same way he was doing to my friend.

Blinking back something hot and wet, I prayed he would be okay. I’d never prayed before
, it didn’t seem like a practical thing to do, but right now . . . now I was beyond practical. It was as if I were a puppet and my master was tugging invisible strings—strings that made me want to throw up and cry and punch something.

At least Hunter seemed to be taking this calmly. His blue eyes clasped onto me for a second before he darted his gaze to the side.

I followed it to
The Raven, standing in those tightly-fitting boots Garret had mentioned, cargo pants, leather gloves, and a navy jacket with a large peaked hood, angled toward the ground.

From here it was easy to see how she could have been mistaken for a guy.

As she lifted her head, I caught a glimpse of her shadowed face. Now I knew who it was, I could see it. Her.
Shannon.

Quinn stood to the left
, rubbing the back of his head like he’d been shoved hard against the side of the building and had knocked it badly. He braced an arm around Shannon, stepping on the blue rose bouquet choked of life at his feet.

Shannon urged forward, but Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist and held her back.
He too was calm, but there was the undeniable glow of fear lighting his face a pale green.

“Don’t, Shan,” Quinn said
softly. “It’s too dangerous.”

“
Is this why you kept trying to prevent me from doing this?” The hood shifted, revealing Shannon’s cold blue eyes trained intently on Mitch. She shuddered, and her voice came out strained. “People like them and victims like Travis are the reason I wanted to be out there.”

“I’m sorry, but
—” She stomped on Quinn’s foot and pulled at his thumbs, freeing herself, and lunged toward Jack.

He lifted his gun and pointed at the bird tattoo peeking through Hunter’s ripped shirt. “Stay back.”

“Let my brother go.”

“
I’ll let him go,” Jack said. I glanced toward the window praying for the police to hurry up. “After I’ve ruined your life the way you ruined my brother’s.”

My breath shook.
What could I do to help the situation? With only a pen, a notebook, and a cellphone, the answer was painful. Not much.

I took out the pen and notebook
. At least by annotating the situation, I could give the police the best possible eyewitness account. I wrote faster than I ever had before, leaving out any details depicting Shannon as The Raven. Something I didn’t think about, but knew instinctively I had to do.

Quinn
’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and then he spoke carefully, “Don’t do anything you’ll regret for the rest of your life, man.”

Jack swung the gun toward Quinn, his hand shaking, voice pitching. “He was there for me when no one else was. I owe it to him to exact justice.”

Shannon swore, “You son of a bitch. Why? Why do you attack men just because they love other men?”

Jack cocked the gun at the same time as his head. “My brother cared about that shit.
I only care about who got my brother incarcerated. I figured the best way to find you was by following the trend.”

Quinn grabbed Shannon before she lunged
, and he held her back against his chest once more. He whispered something in her ear. Perhaps something to cool her down. Quinn said firmly, “That’s your idea of justice? It’ll just get you thrown in prison, right alongside your brother.”

Jack let out a gurgled sound
, as if his emotions were getting the better of him. He loved his brother, that was clear. “Maybe, but I’m going to make sure The Raven goes down with me.”

The safety unlatched, a distinctive
click
sounded in the still air, and that’s when I knew I had something else with me that could tip the scales.

Surprise.

I dropped my notebook, stole two steps and leaped on Jack’s back as his finger went trigger-happy. My momentum knocked him forward as the gun fired.

We hit the ground with a
heavy
thwump!
I dug my pen into his weapon-arm with all my strength as he bucked underneath me, trying to chuck me off. Thanks to self-defense lessons, I knew how to throw him off his balance—

“You fuck!”

I locked my hands around his wrist as Quinn yelled. I tipped suddenly, shoulders hitting stone.

The gun clattered as it dropped
from Jack’s hand, sliding toward Shannon’s feet.

Suddenly
Quinn was there, wrestling with Jack and shouting at Shannon not to do something that would make her the bad guy.

Jack
thrust against Quinn’s weight, angry eyes snapping to me. “You,” he spat.

“Me,” I said, still holding my pen tightly in my grip, my knuckles scraped from the stone. “Why did you attack me,
Freddy
?”

“
Fuck you. You should have given up the party page.”
Powwach!
Jack managed to land a hook over Quinn’s ear. “But at least you led me to the cripple. He made catching The Raven easy.”

“Fucker,”
Quinn swore, snatching Jack into a firm hold as Shannon stepped one of her shit-kickers on the gun. Her gaze was livid, as if static streamed from her. She embodied my definition of rage.

She caught my eye, and I shook my head
, clumsily trying to pull myself up. “Quinn’s right,” I said, with a cough. “You need to stop being The Raven before you become victim. None of us want you to lose your wings.”

She blinked,
her gaze snapping to her brother who sat stranded in the corner.

Hunter grabbed Mitch’s shirt, drew him near and spat in his face
. “I don’t ever want to see you around my friends or my sister again.”

He shoved him back, and Mitch crumpled. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to. I tried to say no.”

“But you didn’t,” Hunter said. “That’s all I need to know. Fuck off.”

“I
just . . . wish I’d been there to save him the first time,” Shannon said, closing her eyes. She took a quivering breath and swept the gun far out of Jack’s reach. Jack still struggled under Quinn. “Looks like my brother really can handle himself though.”

“And the police are
on their way,” I grunted, letting them all know it was soon over.

H
unter looked across at her, swiping away the blood on his lip. “Come here, sis.”

She came to his side, kneeling where Mitch had been.
Mitch, who had disappeared.

I glanced at Quinn pressing his forearm against the back of Jack’s neck and hissing in his ear to keep his filthy mouth shut.

“You all right?” Quinn asked me, failing to control the panic in his voice.

I held up
my pen as Shannon walked past carrying Hunter. “Really is mightier than the sword.”