While I sat dumbfounded, Garrett’s anger swelled. “Only I wasn’t in on the plan, jackass,” he said, his voice harsh with barely contained fury. He leaned forward, his teeth welded together. “You sent me to hell.”
“For all the good it did me. You didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know.”
Garrett’s fists were in Reyes’s shirt before I knew it. He lifted Reyes off his feet and attempted to throw him against the wall, but naturally Reyes got the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He turned the tables, threw Garrett back, shoved him against the wall, and jammed his forearm in Garrett’s throat.
Cookie jumped back as I had the opposite reaction. I rushed into the melee.
“Reyes, let him go!” I shouted, pulling on his arm.
But Reyes wanted Garrett to know how much effort he was not expending. He smiled as Garrett grunted and fought. I was worried he would actually crush his larynx.
“We get it,” I said to Reyes. “You win. Now, let him go.”
Cookie recoiled, her face ashen, her eyes wide.
Reyes released his hold and threw him to the floor. Garrett coughed and gasped for air, holding his throat. I bent to help him up and while I half expected him to shrug off my offer, but he put a hand on my shoulder and tried to stand. But he was heavier than I remembered and I struggled to get him to his feet. Reyes had no choice but to help me. Together we got him up, but Garrett started to stumble into me. Reyes caught him and in the next instant, Garrett proved just how good a con artist he was. He shoved Reyes back, pretending to be falling, drew a long dagger with a razor-sharp point, and buried it in Reyes’s chest.
A startled shock of electricity dumped adrenaline down my spine. I covered my mouth with both hands in utter disbelief as Garrett smiled and leaned into the man he’d just stabbed. It was Reyes’s turn to suffer. He tossed his head back and tried to breathe as Garrett buried the blade deeper, impaling him to the wall.
“I did learn a few things about how to bring your ass down.”
When Reyes grabbed the knife, Garrett pushed again and Reyes groaned in agony.
I didn’t understand. It was just a knife. It had a long thin blade, almost like a small sword, and it wasn’t in his heart but just under his right collarbone. He’d been shot with a .50-caliber bullet, something that would rip a normal man to shreds, and walked away. Why would such a slim blade paralyze him?
I ran to them and tried to pull the blade out, but Garrett pushed me back. I tripped and fell to the ground.
He locked his jaw, his expression full of hate, his anger palpable. “Do you have any idea what they did to me?”
Reyes couldn’t answer. His eyes rolled back, his hands braced on the wall beside him. Then he reached up and ripped at his shirt like it was burning him. He clawed at it, but once he tore it to shreds, I realized he wasn’t clawing at the shirt, but at himself. His tattoos, the crisp lines and patterns of the map through the gates of hell, began to crack. A bright orange light, like molten lava, began to seep through them.
I sat on the floor, transfixed. Why didn’t he just pull out the dagger? I didn’t understand.
Garrett braced both hands on the tip of the handle, one on top of the other, and pushed again. Reyes groaned through clenched teeth as the blade slid in even farther. As the fissures widened and a roiling fire began to leach out of them. And I knew what was about to happen. Reyes was about to die.
Was this it? Was this Rocket’s premonition?
It couldn’t be. I stood and prepared to charge forward. If I could just get Garrett off him, I could pull out the dagger. But how? He was tall and strong and —
A sharp thud sounded and we all stood there a stunned moment before Garrett looked back at me and crumpled to the ground. I glanced at Cookie. At the frying pan she had in both hands like a baseball bat.
Another grunt from Reyes had me lunging forward. I took hold of the dagger, braced a foot on the wall beside him, and pulled. The blade slid out easier than I thought it would, and I fell back with it.
“No killing friends in the house,” Cookie said, terrified and shaking. “I am so glad I didn’t have a son. Boys are so destructive and violent.”
Reyes gulped huge rations of air. The fissures that covered his torso darkened and closed until he was back. Garrett stumbled to his feet at the same time I gained my own balance, and the murderous glare on Reyes’s face was like a jump start to my nervous system. Before I could shout a warning, he took hold of Garrett’s head and twisted.
Time slowed as I watched Garrett’s head spin to the side, farther than it should. Then I was in front of them. I broke Reyes’s hold with my arms and caught Garrett to me, stopping the momentum of the motion by cradling his head to my chest.
Then I closed my eyes and let time snap back into place. It hit like a freight train crashing against my bones. Garrett and I tumbled to the ground with me holding his head so tight, I was afraid I would break his neck with the fall. Fortunately, he seemed okay. Just dazed, unsure of what had happened.
But Reyes’s anger still raged. He came back for more. Bound and determined to end Garrett’s life, he charged forward. I straddled Garrett and turned on him like an angry bear protecting her cub. And Cookie was right beside me, frying pan in hand, jaw set in determination.
“Stop,” I said to him, my tone low, even. “Now. This is not going to happen.”
He fought for control, then growled and turned away from us, shaking off the pain that had consumed him. I helped Garrett up.