My heart dropped, and we were in the car so fast, that I barely remember getting in it. Montel was swerving through traffic. We did one hundred miles per hour down Grand Ave, one of the busiest streets in St. Louis. We were getting there, though. Reese had said Todo was taken to Barnes Hospital in the Central West End. No one talked, and no one said slow down. I guess we were all in shock. I wanted to say something. The words just could not come out of my throat. I didn't hear the traffic or the honking. All I could hear were my breaths. They were so loud as if I was forcing them out. I tried to focus on calming down, yet each breath became harder. Todo had been shot.
Christian sat in the front with Montel. I was aware of Joey asking me was I was okay? I looked into his eyes. He was crying. His face was red and his nose was running. I couldn't tell the snot from the tears. His grief was apparent. I didn't want to grieve. Todo was not dead. He had been shot. So had Reese and Zale. They were both still walking around. I knew he would be okay, however, I knew this feeling too well. This was my third friend to be shot.
Montel parked sideways in the parking lot. He hadn't stopped the car completely before we were climbing out. We rushed into the emergency entrance. We went right by security, coming to an abrupt stop as we saw Reese. His face was red as well, and he was talking to a police officer. The officer had his pad out. He was taking his statement. I knew this officer. He was the same one I talked to when Zale was shot. Reese looked past the officer and our eyes connected. His face scrunched up, and his eyes watered with more tears. He closed them as his tears spilled over. I knew then.
I knew Todo was dead. I stopped in my tracks and my shoulders dropped. Montel almost bumped into me. Instead, he caught me as my legs gave out, un-expectantly. Christian walked past and interrupted the statement to pull Reese to the side. I focused on my breaths again. They were loud again. I was aware of Montel talking to me. Joey was yelling at the lady at the check-in desk. The lady looked scared. It was chaos. and it was all happening so fast.
The police officer grabbed Joey, making him sit down in one of the many chairs in this place. I was rooted to my place. My feet planted as Montel tried in vain to get my attention. Christian turned away from Reese then. His face was hard. He looked absolutely lethal. When his eyes met mine, he softened. He didn't cry, but his expression said it all. He advanced on me, his eyes never leaving mine. He was about twenty steps away, but it seemed to take forever. His strong arms wrapped around me. As my face made contact with his white tee-shirt, I realized I had been crying as well. That's when it felt real. Todo was really gone.
An hour later, we were still in the emergency room. Christian had gone with a nurse to identify the body. No one else wanted to. I didn't want to see Todo like that. I recalled so vividly every memory I had with him. Our time was short when you thought about it. I had known him what, a year? I still couldn't picture my life without him. He left an impact. I would miss him dearly. I wanted to lash out so badly. I had been crying for the entire time I was here until the cop had come to me.
The police officer had talked to us all. He had looked at me strangely, though. As if I was a suspect. I'm sure he remembered me, from Zale's shooting. He didn't say so, but he was a cop. I didn't trust him at all and didn't want to talk to him. He had left with Christian to go see Todo. Montel had left to go park correctly. I was sitting with Joey. He held my hand so tight, with his head between his legs. He had been in that position for a while, and I wondered if he was sleeping.
The door to the emergency room opened and in came a guy who I knew didn't belong. He looked right at us and then came towards us. He was tall, light-skinned, and inked up. He had tats all over his face and every piece of skin I could see. He was Mexican, I knew by the tattoos. He had a big thirteen on the side of his face. He stopped before me. I noticed the duffle bag in his hand then.
"Hi," he said, his accent strong. "I'm Juan. I was the buyer today. Todo was a friend, and I wanted you to know we had nothing to do with his shooting."
Joey raised up then. He stood, his lips tight. "What happened?" he asked. He still had my hand. I remained seated. This guy seemed sincere to me. I had just met him, but he didn't have to come here. He also came alone. I believed him.
"We made the deal," Juan said. "The exchange went fine. It's when he left he was shot. Soon as he hit the sidewalk. There was a black SUV. The window rolled down and got to spraying. I figured you wanted this since he threw it out the window."
Juan held out a crumpled piece of paper. Joey took it and flattened it out. He read it silently before cursing and passing it to me.
Dear Anna,
Meet me at the Missouri Bottoms tonight. Ten P.M. Be there. We finish this tonight.
Love, Hawthorn
P.S. Bring your little friends.
I closed my eyes tightly as I realized my oldest enemy was the person who killed Todo. He was killed because of me. I had to get him gone, but it wouldn't be on his terms. I balled up the paper. It did nothing to console me or make me feel better. I had to get out of this hospital, that's all I could think.
Turning to Juan, I said, "Thank you for binging this. I appreciate it."
"No problem," he said, holding out the duffle bag. "I also brought your cash. I hope this won't interfere with any future business. You got some good stuff. Thirty thousand, as agreed."
I grabbed the bag and tossed it to Montel, who was just walking in. "Can you please take that to the car?" I asked.
"I just came from the car," he said, looking in the bag, which he closed quickly and took to the car.
"Again I appreciate it. No love lost with us." I said, also heading to the door. I needed air, and I needed it now. I walked out the entrance, intent on going to the car with Montel, but he was nowhere in sight. I walked to a nearby bus stop and sat down. Todo was dead because of me. I couldn't stop that thought from replaying again and again in my head.
I wanted Hawthorne dead, and I wanted to do it myself. I leaned back against the glass enclosure and closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. Then I felt something cold touch my forehead. My eyes popped open. there in front of me, was the current bane of my existence. Hawthorne and he had a gun to my head.
"Finally," he said. "We meet. You're even more beautiful than I thought and just as much like your father as I suspected."
His eyes looked crazed. I quickly realized this man was not stable. He smiled down at me with crooked, yellow teeth. He looked nothing like his pictures. He was a firefighter. They usually looked good if you ask me. Not this one. He looked way older than me, when he was probably more like a year older. He was sweating and I could smell his stank breath from my seat and alcohol.
"I'm nothing like my father," I spat.
"Oh, but you are. I've been watching you, little Anna. I waited because you had potential. I thought you would prove me wrong. Instead, you turn out to be just as much a criminal. A gang member. A drug dealer."
"You're crazy as hell and you're a murderer," I said, moving closer, and he continued to move back. We were almost to the street now.
"Stop coming towards me!" He yelled.
I watched his finger dance around the trigger, and I froze. "You better use that gun, punk," I said. My adrenalin was pumping too hard for me to keep still. Oh, he wanted me dead so bad. I bet not as bad as I wanted him dead. My beef was fresh, his was almost twenty years old. It wasn't the same energy. I could rush him, I thought. Take the gun and kill him right here. It would be justice for Todo.
He tutted me and laughed. "Your death would never be so fast." He sneered. "My parents were beaten to death, bitch. I'm going to torture you for days. You proved that bad blood is bad blood. Anyone connected to you is bad blood. Your pretty sister is next, after her. I think I'll kill your mom. Get moving!" he yelled, pointing to my left with the gun.
He seriously had me fucked up. First, if he thought he was going after my family, and second if he thought I was going with him. That gun would not make me bust a move. So I could live an extra day or so? Only for my family to be next. If he shot that gun here, even if he killed me, there was a greater chance he would get caught. Police were everywhere here. No. If he was going to kill me, he would do it right here. I wasn't going anywhere with him. I opened my mouth to say as much, just as the wind changed. The next thing I knew, Hawthorne was on the ground. I hadn't heard a sound.
I dropped to the ground and grabbed the gun from his lifeless fingers, looking this way and that. I saw nothing. I looked over at him. He was definitely dead. The hole in his head and the pool of blood were the proof. I stayed on the ground, his blood coming closer and closer as I looked for a safe escape. Today was the worst day of my life and it was nowhere near being over.
From the shadows came a dark figure. It was impressive, which is why I had an idea who it was even in the dark. He blended so well that it seemed like he just appeared. Donavan walked towards me like it was no big deal that dude was leaking next to me. The gun on his shoulder was some kind of sniper rifle. I jumped up and pointed the gun at him. His hands went up, in surrender and he halted.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, not sure at all about Donavan.
"I told you I had your back, this time." He said and broke the rifle down to pieces, right in front of me. "I didn't come here to kill you."
He walked away even as I still held the gun on him. What the fuck just happened? I waited for a beat before stepping over the dead man. I looked down at Hawthorne, searching for any pity I could muster. He was dead, after all. I expected to feel something, but I didn't. I felt nothing. I walked away thinking if maybe Hawthorne had been right. Maybe I was like my father.