The buzzing stopped, was quiet, then started again.
“Fuck’s sake!” she snapped, grabbing for the phone, not realizing she’d snapped out Mac’s favorite saying. Accepting the call, she barked out, “What?”
“I need you to come get Mac.”
The request startled her, but only for a second. Her temper soared. “Fuck him!” She clicked off.
Her phone started buzzing again. Grabbing it up, she sat up and answered with, “Mac can go fuck himself, Darlene, I am not—”
“You owe him!”
Cassidy was stunned stupid by the retort and fired back, “Excuseme?” She’d gone rigid.
“If you don’t come get him, I’m calling the police. They will arrest him. You owe him. You know you do. You owe him a get-out-of-jail-free card for David.” Darlene was agitated, babbling before Cassidy hung up again. There was shouting in the background.
“What’s happening?”
A touch of relief entered Darlene’s voice as she answered, “He came in earlier tonight messed up. Something about some chick dying. He was already half in the bag. Angel kept serving him anyway, which she shouldn’t have. He’s raging drunk, accused her of shorting his pours, someone tried to step in, and all hell broke loose. Andy and I have him locked in the office, and it sounds like he’s tearing the place up.”
Cassidy’s mouth was hanging open. “And you wantmeto come get him?”
“You or the cops,” Darlene said firmly. “I can’t control him.”
Cassidy closed her eyes for a moment. What did she know about Mac?
He’d never hurt her. He responded to Fred.
Josie was dead.
He was hurting.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
“Minute twenty-one, I’m calling the cops.” She hung up.
“Fuck!” Cassidy tossed her book aside and leaped off the sofa. “Fred!”
Rage and concern warred within her; she wanted anger to win. She owed him nothing. She owed Darlene nothing, but here she was, with a panicked urge to get to him, explaining her actions to a dog, “He had my back once. Something horrible happened to him today.”
Fred watched, head cocked.
“You calm him down. He needs you.” It was the one truth she was clinging to: Mac needed Fred.
The thought she shied away from: she needed Mac to be okay.
Chapter fifty-two
Mac
NO COMING BACK
Theysayeverydayyou wake up is a good day.
Fuck that. This day fuckinghurt.
Everything hurt. Head, arms, legs, ears, hair… cock. Fuckingeverything.
Breathing hurt.