a task to do doesn’t make me want to strangle those two jackasses any less.
As I pass what looks like a waiting room, I recognize one of the people slumped over in a chair. My steps falter and I back up.
“Jacob, what’s going on?” I ask, treading closer. His rumpled, dirty clothes and skin suggest he’s been run over by a garbage truck.
“Mallory?” He glances up and blinks at me.
“What the hell happened?” I lower my voice to a harsh whisper. “Chaser’s in jail. What are you doing here?” I don’t bother mentioning that the cops want to question him. I can’t afford to have Jacob bolt.
“Waiting for Andrew to wake the fuck up so he can tell the cops Chaser didn’t do it.”
His answer deflates a fraction of my anger. For once Jacob’s trying to be helpful.
He searches the nearly empty waiting room like he can’t believe he’s still sitting there. “Where are the other guys?”
“I don’t know. I just met with Chaser’s lawyer.”
“Shit.” He drops his gaze and shakes his head. “You had to get him a lawyer?”
“He’s in jail, Jacob,” I remind him. “I called his father and he found him a lawyer.”
“Aw fuck.” He rakes his fingers through his already messy hair. “Chaser’s going to kill me.”
My boyfriend might have to get in line. I’m feeling murderous myself at the moment. “Jacob, what happened?” I ask in my most patient voice.
“It’s all my fault.”
You don’t say.
“She shouldn’t be here!” Peter yells from behind me.
“What the fuck, man?” Jacob snarls, jumping out of his chair.
“Her boyfriend’s accused of shooting Andrew.” Peter backs down under Jacob’s raging bull face. “She shouldn’t be here.”
“Fuck off. You work for us, dickwad.”
“You’re the one who accused Chaser,” I point out, calmly.
“You did what?” Alvin asks, stepping into the waiting room. His arm brushes against mine, filling me with relief that someone I trust is here. “Why would you do that?”
Peter backs up a few steps and shrugs. “Chaser pointed a gun at him. Andrew got shot. Two and two.” He looks a little less sure of his theory. “Equals four. You know?”
“You fucking moron!” Alvin plants his hands against Peter’s chest and shoves him hard enough to slam into a row of chairs on the opposite wall.
“Don’t,” I warn, pressing a palm against Alvin’s shoulder. “We don’t need you in trouble too.”
I reach out and grab Jacob’s arm as he attempts to go around us to get to Peter. “You too.”
Jacob hangs his head. “I deserve to get in trouble.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.”
Alvin slips his arm around my shoulders. “Did you just get here?”
“Yes. Chaser’s lawyer dropped me off.” I flick my gaze at Jacob. “The cops are looking for you.”
“Shit. Why?”
“Why do you think?”
Alvin lifts his head, throwing a glare Peter’s way. “How about you do something useful and find a lawyer for Jacob?”
“I didn’t do anything. I don’t need a lawyer.”
“Shut up.” Alvin elbows Jacob.
Peter eyes the three of us warily and it’s a good thing Alvin’s still hanging onto me because my urge to rip out Peter’s lying tongue hasn’t abated.
“What happened, Jacob?” Alvin asks once Peter slinks away.
Jacob’s gaze shifts my way. He should be worried. If he’s in any way responsible for this, I won’t hesitate to hand him over to the cops in order to save Chaser.
“Nothing. Some guy robbed us.”
“Why’d you call Chaser?” I ask.
“I called him before we got robbed. I thought he could help.”
“That’s as clear as mud.”
He gives me a helpless shrug.
Alvin leads me over to a chair in the corner. “You get any sleep last night?”
“No,” I admit.
“Let’s chill. The lawyer knows where you are, right? And the nurses know where to find us if Andrew wakes up.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Mallory.”
I wish I believed him.
“Mrs. Lane?”
Someone touches my shoulder. “Mallory Lane?”
“What? No.” Groggy, I shake my head and search the room. Alvin’s passed out in the chair next to me. Jacob took up residence on the nubby old couch across from us. His deep snores fill the silence.
“I’m Mallory,” I finally answer.
“Andrew’s been asking for you,” a nurse in a white uniform and gentle smile says.
I jump up, jostling Alvin in the process. “Hmm. What?” he mumbles.
“Andrew’s awake?” I ask the nurse.
“The police are in there interviewing him now.” She tilts her head and studies me. “But he’s been asking for you non-stop.”
I don’t have a response. Why would Andrew ask for me over, well, anyone else?