Authors: A.E. Via
Quick
“My damn phone is dead. Do you have a charger in here, Judge?” Quick asked from the backseat of Judge’s F350.
“Naw. Michaels broke it last week. Haven’t replaced it.”
“Fuckin’ great! All of us in here with dead phones!” Quick punched the seat and Dana jumped in the seat next to him. Duke turned around and looked at him like he was crazy.
“That can happen when you’re up at four a.m. and held in a police station for almost twelve hours,” Judge said, ignoring Quick’s anger.
“Stop me by a payphone or something,” Quick ordered, his skin getting hot and tight the longer he sat.
“A payphone. What the hell is that?” Judge laughed.
“Stop playing around Judge. Does it look like I wanna fuckin’ entertain you right now? I’ve had enough comedy today from your ridiculous cop friends to last me a lifetime.” Quick was still simmering from having to deal with God and Day. No one should ever have to be subjected to their antics. And he was pretty sure that rookie cop had been put on desk duty by the time Day finished making him look incompetent.
“Look, Quick. I’m sorry, okay,” Dana started again, but Quick threw his hand up and shot him another look that said “Shut the fuck up, or else.” Dana sealed his lips and made himself small, inching over as close to the door as he could get.
“Rome. Knock it off. Cayson was going to find out anyway,” Duke said, trying to get his cell phone to turn on.
“He didn’t have to find out like that. And Ford. What the hell was he thinking talking to Cays like that? He threatened him, Duke. I want him fired, immediately.” Quick fumed, trying to be careful not to rip apart the interior of Judge’s truck. Quick growled deep in his chest and Dana looked like he would rather walk the long way home than ride next to him.
“We’re going to get this resolved, Quick. But I need you to calm the fuck down,” Duke said, and then turned to Judge. “Go to Quick’s house. I doubt the doc is still at the hospital. Maybe he went back there after—”
“After he was picked up off the goddamn floor from passing out! Cayson could be anywhere, beating himself up for all of this!” Quick yelled. Before he could stop himself, he’d reached over and grabbed Dana by his collar. His large fist pulled the material up tight and pressed it hard against Dana’s Adam’s apple, cutting off his air. He could feel the truck beneath him swerving and skidding along the asphalt as Duke yelled for Judge to pull over. He could hear Dana choking and barely calling out to Duke for help, as he pounded and clawed at Quick’s arms in a fruitless effort to free himself.
All Quick could see behind his closed lids was Cayson’s face. His scared face when Ford yelled at him. He could imagine the pain inside his sweet doctor while he beat himself up for what had happened to Brian. Quick already knew Cayson was too empathetic. Probably no sooner had Dana opened his big mouth, than Cayson had tortured and blamed himself until he’d lost consciousness. A fierce roar erupted from Quick’s chest and he knew his beast was taking over. If he didn’t get control, he was going to hurt Dana, irreparably hurt him.
“Roman! Rome, stop!”
Strong hands were pulling at him, but he held on to Dana with all he had.
“Roman! Rome open your eyes? Rome, look at me. This isn’t helping Cayson. He’s alone and hurting. He’s not going to understand any of this until you get to him and explain it.”
Dana finally wrenched his neck free of Quick’s hold, making him stumble back, dazed and confused. When Quick lost himself to his rage, his sensei used to call them episodes. Once he opened his eyes, he saw that Dana was clutching a protective hand over his Adam’s apple and was looking at him like he needed an exorcist. Quick ignored the stare and instead concentrated on counting and breathing. They were on the side of the road, and the oncoming traffic was creeping by as they rubbernecked to see what was going on.
Duke was watching carefully, constantly talking in a soothing tone and reminding Quick to breathe.
“Goddamnit, what the hell did you do to my throat?” Dana coughed hard.
“It was throat clutch. It’s very deadly, so Quick was still in control,” Duke responded, putting a hand up to ward off any retaliation. Dana wasn’t a lightweight; he could hold his own in a fight… with a regular person. Not an eighth degree martial arts expert.
“Control?” Dana rumbled, coughing again.
“Yes. Because if he wasn’t, you’d be dead by now. Your tongue is just a little swollen, it’ll go down. He’s okay,” Duke huffed, running his hands through his hair. “Judge come on, we gotta go, now. We gotta get him home.”
“What the hell? Fuck no, Duke. I’m gonna have to call Uber or something. I’m not riding in back of this truck with him,” Dana said, shaking his head vehemently.
“With what phone? Dana, just shut up, or get out and hang on to the damn bumper for all I care. I don’t have any more tolerance for this shit, today! I need to check on Brian, and I’d like to get home some time tonight, too, ya know! They still haven’t picked up the man who put out the hit, so let’s fuckin’ go! Now!” Duke yelled. By this time, everyone was angry and yelling. Damn, was this day from hell ever going to end?
Quick knew that he needed to get to Cayson, but if he didn’t calm down, they weren’t going to make it, because he’d end up causing an accident if he lashed out again. Only Duke understood what Quick was going through, and he hoped he was able to find a way to get the guys to forgive him one day, but for now, he had to get home. Needed to know his son and Cayson were both okay.
Dark hit fast, and Judge was already breaking the speed limit when the alarms on their watches blared deafeningly loud in Judge’s truck. He swerved, just missing the guardrail as he took the exit off the interstate. “What the fuck is that? Shit! Turn ‘em off.” Judge tried to holler over the shrieking alarms.
The noise died off as they all pushed the buttons to turn them off. Quick stared at the watch face, praying silently that it wasn’t….
“It’s the doc!” Dana yelled first. “He’s home. Go to his house.”
Duke was turned all the way around in his seat, his dark eyes boring into Quick as Judge followed the directions Dana blurted out. He knew why his best friend was watching him, but he was hanging on to his sanity. Barely… but he was hanging on.
“He hit all the alarms,” Dana informed them.
All of them. All of them. Quick was still coming down from his episode, so it took a while for him to comprehend what Dana was saying. All that was rattling around in his head was; what was happening to Cayson that was so bad he had to push all the alarms? Had Dr. Joe hired more guys? Did they go after Cayson?
“That means Ford will respond, too,” Dana said solemnly.
Duke’s eyes widened as realization set in. “Shut up, Dana. Judge, step on it,” Duke whispered sternly.
Quick was silent, too quiet for even his own comfort. He didn’t know what he was going to see when they pulled up to Cayson’s house, but he hoped that if Ford had done something to his doctor, he’d forgive him in the afterlife. Because he was going to meet his soul in hell after he killed him.
Cayson
Cayson sat very still while he listened to what Joe had to say. He was upset that it’d been seven minutes and he didn’t even hear sirens yet, not to mention none of the guys with watches had shown up either.
Why would they come? They hate me.
Cayson wondered what was going to happen to him if he just sat there and waited. Waited for Joe to slap him. Waited for the cops to cuff him and take him away. Waited for Ford to eventually find him. Whatever the hell was coming, he’d welcome it. It’d be something he could focus on instead of his broken heart.
“Are you listening, Cayson?” Joe yelled.
“Vaguely,” Cayson said. He was so distraught; he just didn’t care anymore.
“Come on, we got to go. We’re going to the police station. I’m going to turn evidence on my nephew and tell them it was his plan to take it a step farther and hire more guys who had their own agendas. It’s not a crime to try to scare someone, right?”
“Then go,” Cayson replied, flipping his hand in a shooing motion.
“I need you as a character witness,” Joe said unbelievingly.
“Character!” Cayson was getting angry. Angrier by the minute. This guy had some nerve. Joe had cost him everything. While Cayson had been blaming himself, he realized that if Joe had just walked away in the first place, they wouldn’t have had to go through all of this. He shot up from the couch and walked right up into Joe’s face. “What character? You have none! You tried to buy me, asshole! Did you forget that? We never had a real relationship, and as soon as I get one, you fuck it up! For what? To save face. To prove you’re better than Roman. Well fine! The dick measuring is over! You won. Roman Webb is officially out of my life forever.”
Cayson could feel how hot his hand itched to strike another human being for the first time in his life, so that’s exactly what he did. Cayson jolted his right hand out, palm up and flat just like Vaughan had taught him and slapped Joe in the center of his forehead, hard enough to snap his head back. He hollered out in shock, holding his forehead and looking at Cayson like he was insane. Damn, that did feel awesome. He’d never hit anyone before.
The two men, who hadn’t moved a muscle the entire time they’d been there, had Cayson out of Joe’s face and pinned up against the wall with his hands pulled behind his back before Cayson could think of another strike move. He hoped he’d done it right. It didn’t look like it caused any real damage to Joe, but it did stun him. Good enough for Cayson. “Let me go. The police are on their—”
Cayson heard his front door burst open and the glass at the top shatter when it connected with the wall. He couldn’t see who it was, because he was still pinned by one of the guys. The other had moved to Joe’s side and was reaching into his waistband as he went into a defensive stance.
It wasn’t the police; they announced themselves when they entered a house. Who’d gotten there first? Cayson heard slow deliberate footsteps on the hardwood floor in his foyer. If this had been Friday the 13th, this would be the exact moment Jason turned the corner and hacked them up.
“Dr. Joseph Wellington, I presume.”
Cayson began to shake under the bodyguard’s hand at the sound of Ford’s voice. He knew it was him, even though he wasn’t yelling like he’d been at the hospital. Cayson still recognized the rage in his tone. He was going to kill all of them. None of the other team was coming. Ford was going to take them all out and ghost before the cops got there.
“Joe, run! He’s going to kill you!” Cayson hollered, fear griping him like a vise. He was livid at Joe, but he didn’t want anyone brutally murdered in front of him.
“Look. I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure we haven’t met.” Joe tried to reason with Ford, standing behind his bodyguard.
“This is for my brother.” Ford’s strike was swift and fast to the bodyguard’s throat. If he’d wanted to reach for his weapon, he couldn’t. The big man dropped to his knees, clutching his throat, his eyes bulging as he tried to take in a breath. Ford didn’t give Joe a chance to run or react. He grabbed a handful of Joe’s wayward hair at the back of his head and slammed his fist into his nose, not once but twice, in rapid succession. “My brother sends his regards,” Ford snarled in Joe’s bloody face.
Cayson was down on the floor watching everything in high definition. The sound of Joe’s nose cracking had Cayson slamming his hands over his ears like a scared child. It sounded like ice breaking on concrete. The blood spewed from Joe’s nose, even spraying Ford’s white t-shirt as he stood over him, watching with what looked to be satisfaction as Joe screamed and wailed in agony at Ford’s feet.
The doctor in Cayson wanted to run over and control the bleeding, but he didn’t dare move. There was only one more bodyguard left between him and Ford. One throat or nose left to demolish before Ford got to him. Cayson had never been so afraid in his life. Men were on the floor, shaking and crying out in pain and they were all completely helpless. Cayson was mindlessly pushing any and all the buttons on his watch but nothing was happening. No one was there, and the sirens he could hear sounded way too far away to provide any comfort or relief.