Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
HELLER
“He’s okay?” Katrina cries and tries to shift to look behind her. The belt, still constricting her movements.
I grab my knife out of its sheath at my side, reach into the open part of the window and cut the constricting material. Katrina immediately rips it from her body and tries to move, yelping in pain at the movement.
“Thought you weren’t hurt,” I sneer, looking into the vehicle once again, trying to assess the situation. I mentally smack myself upside the head, knowing it is what I should have been doing all along, not sitting here, reminiscing about memories of our past.
“I am not. But my foot seems to be stuck,” she answers, trying to shift her body to get it to move.
“Stop moving,” I all but growl at her. I do not need her to be hurt anymore than they already are.
“Don’t growl at me, Hel,” she exclaims.
“Close your eyes,” I instruct her not heeding to her words, “I need to break the windshield. I cannot fit in this window, and I can’t go through the back like Carlos did.”
She nods and covers her face. I grab my glass break tool from my side and slam it against the windshield until it finally spiders. With that, I kick it with my boot and the whole thing shatters completely. Carlos is now at my side, the little boy sitting on the side of the vehicle, far enough away to be clear of the breaking glass.
“On three,” he tells me, instructing me to pull at the shattered glass with him so that we can remove the windshield together. We work in tandem, and it only takes us a few minutes to get it out of the way.
“Momma,” I hear the young boy scream from behind me. I do not turn around, I just can’t. Seeing her with a kid when we had so many plans is already destroying my soul. To see someone else’s features besides hers and my own will crumble whatever walls I have left.
“She’s okay,” I hear Carlos say as he walks back over and consoles the little guy. “Heller is gonna go in and get her out now that we got the window off.”
“Please help my Momma,” I hear him cry once again, as my heart begins to shatter that little bit more it had left.
“I’m going in there now and will get her out, Little Man,” I reply, still not turning to look at the innocent child behind me. I know it is cruel of me, but that innocent child, who likely has another man’s eyes will be the thing that demolishes my heart once and for all. I have a job to do right now, and I cannot let him shatter me, not yet.
As I finally got the rest of the windshield out of the way, I climb into the passenger seat. I need to get in here fully to understand what is going on. Katrina’s scent hits me and it is like deja-fucking-vu. Her perfume is not overwhelming, but it is an all too familiar scent is one I promised myself I’d stay away from for the rest of my life.
Before I look to see what caught her foot, I give her a quick up and down glance, ensuring there really is nothing else injured before I jostle her and get to work. There are many times people do not realize they have injuries, such as impalements, until we try to move them. Though I have every right to be angry and hurt, I am not an asshole and want to make sure she gets to be with her child.
She has already abandoned me, I don’t need her abandoning her child because she didn’t know she was severely injured.
Continuing my perusal of her, I made the decision to check out her foot. Nothing seems amiss, so far, so this is now where I need my concentration to be. Getting on my knees, so I can bend down under the dashboard is a bit difficult. Although this is an SUV, it is a smaller one. And it is fucking electric. So, with no power in the car, I cannot adjust the seat back enough for me to fit on the floorboard. I maneuver myself around, uncomfortable as hell, but am finally able to see what the issue is.
As I get a view of the issue, all I can think of is her and those fucking combat boots. She’s always worn them, whether they matched her outfit or not, it was just a part of who she was.
Bending down, I work until I get the medal of the brake pedal off of the top of her steel toed boots. Yes, it was as simple as that. Her foot was wedged under the pedal, which was why her movement was constricted. If she’d been wearing any other type of shoe, she would’ve been able to get her foot out easily. I’m thankful that’s all that is wrong, as this could have been such a worse scenario.
“Okay, you can move now,” I tell her as I sit back up into the passenger seat.
“Really, you got me unstuck already?” she asks, her face masked with confusion.
“It wasn’t all that bad,” I admit to her, still trying to hold back a laugh at the situation. Hell, I am supposed to be pissed right now with her sitting here in front of me, but I just can’t get myself to be.
I watch as she slowly and carefully moves her foot. When she realizes she can move it, I swear she transported out of the front of the car. She moved so quickly, I almost missed the heart shape of her ass in my face. Almost, but not quite.
“Mookie,” she cries as she drops to her knees in front of her child. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay, Momma,” he replies but then starts to cry again. I watch in awe as she tries to pull him into her arms, but when he struggles and backs away, not letting her hold him, pain laces across her face.
“Momma,” he whispers, “you cannot hold me, I’m gonna get you dirty. Did you forget I forgot I was a big boy, and I peed my pants in the car?” The innocence and clarity of this little boy is tearing me apart inside.
“Oh, Mook,” she laughs. “I am your Momma, I changed your diapers, and you used to pee on me all the time. Besides, it was not your fault we were trapped in the car. You did not have a choice but to go to the bathroom, so I’m not worried.”
With that, she snatches the boy up and begins to tickle him. I want to laugh along with them, however, when the boy looks at me, with eyes the same shade of green as mine and the birthmark, in the shape of what I call a dough boy, that matches mine on his brow, I am lost to the world.
“What the fuck?” I whisper as I begin to gasp for air. I bend my body in half, grabbing my knees. My breaths are coming quick, I am struggling for air at the same time. The shock has struck me completely breathless.
“Hel, what’s wrong man?” I hear Carlos beside me as he bends down to try to look into my face.
“Can you not see?” I ask and point to the little boy still in Katrina’s arms.
Carlos looks over to where my fingers are pointing and his draw drops. “No fucking way, man.”
“What. The. Fuck!” I bellow. At the loud tone of my voice, Katrina turns around. When she realizes what I am pointing to, all the blood drains from her face.