Chapter 23 #2
We take the back way out to avoid drawing attention since I’m still in a blood-soaked, shredded shirt and suit coat. There was nothing I could do about that, so we’d rather not draw too much attention. We make it to a stairwell and my Spidey senses tingle.
“Joaco.” Tre’s voice is barely more than a whisper.
“I know, little one. I sense it too.”
Being trapped in a stairwell is the last thing I want. However, it’s the only way to get out of the hospital. Whoever’s following us won’t stop. I have enough of a conscience that I don’t want to draw whoever this is farther into the hospital and endanger other people.
I fear Tre falling down the stairs, but I’m also reaching the limits of my strength.
My body is finally telling me I’m pushing it too hard.
I have the endurance to run if we need to, but I can’t carry her.
Two guys lead the way and two follow. If it comes to it, I’ll fall back, and one of my men will have to carry her.
I know neither my guard nor Tre will enjoy it, but if that ensures her safety, then we’ll all learn to live with it.
We make it down one flight before the sound of the door we passed through slams, and footsteps that aren’t ours echo.
“Tre?”
“I can do it.”
She keeps pace, even jumping down the last three stairs. She uses the handrail to steady herself while I hold her other hand.
“Capo, we won’t make it all the way down. There’s someone looking up two floors below.”
I glance over the railing and see what my guard means. I watch the gunman take aim at me, and I jerk back just as he squeezes the trigger. I push Tre against the wall, my back to her chest. She disappears from the gunman’s line of sight. A blazing streak of pain surges across my left triceps.
Immediately, the men ahead of us charge down the stairs. They’re not interested in catching the man so much as ensuring there’s no one else lying in wait for us. The men behind us are already looking back up the stairs we descended.
We’re trapped at this point if we can’t get down one more flight.
I grab Tre’s hand once again, but I steer her to follow one step behind me.
One of my guys will be one step above her.
This way, she’s sandwiched and the smallest target among us.
I hate that she’s a target at all, but she already knew this life when we met.
It’s not an excuse so much as a shitty explanation.
I wish it were different, but that’s a wasted wish.
We continue down the stairs as fast as we dare, not wanting any of us to pitch forward and roll down them. We keep away from the railing as much as we can. Our shoulders brush the wall. We hear the footsteps coming from behind us again. Now they’re echoed by the ones rushing up to meet us.
By the grace of God, we make it down one story before the man below us can reach us.
One of my men yanks open the door, and all of us barrel through.
We all scan our surroundings, looking for anywhere we can go that’s inconspicuous.
However, anywhere we think of, our pursuers are bound to think of too.
I can’t guarantee that even if we go into a crowded area, these gunmen won’t fire on us. Just the opposite. A crowd will slow us, making us easier targets. There’s no happy middle right now.
One of my guys spots the elevators and bursts into a full sprint, almost slamming into the doors as he skids to a halt.
His finger jams the button over and over.
Rationally, everybody knows doing that doesn’t make the elevator come any faster.
But it’s still instinctual. We watch the numbers tick down as the rest of us run along the hallway.
The elevator pings just as we arrive, the doors opening, and we flood into the elevator car.
Once more, my guy jams the closed-door button. I back Tre into a corner and wrap my arms around her and tuck her head against my chest. Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of my pants over my hips. She clings to me but knows not to expose any part of her.
“Joaco, I don’t want you to be the target.”
“I’m not, chiquita. I’m your shield.”
“Same difference.”
“No, one is honorable, the other is careless.”
I try to infuse some humor in my voice, but it’s unsurprising when it falls flat. We hear the doors closing behind me. We have to assume there will be men in the lobby, so we head to the basement instead. There’s not much down there besides the morgue. That’s hardly where I want to hide.
The other option—my goal—is the loading docks.
I’ve activated my tracker again, and I’m sure my men have too.
I heard Pedro, the guard behind me on my left, speaking into his earpiece just before we got on the elevator.
He’s ordering Antonio, our driver, to meet us around back.
Antonio has to time it just right, so anyone back there doesn’t block him or insist he turns around.
Saying he got lost and made a wrong turn won’t buy him very long.
Miguel and ángel—his parents even knew what he’d grow up to be—cautiously leave the elevator, each facing a different direction, assuming there might be someone lying in wait. Pedro and Josue block the doorway. When we get the all-clear, I lead Tre out of the elevator.
This isn’t the first time my guards and I have left this hospital through the loading dock, so everyone but Tre is familiar with the layout.
The last time I was in Boston, a couple years ago, I was visiting a patient—smothering someone with a pillow isn’t as easy as the movies depict.
But it’s a method that leaves few hints.
We hear the elevator chime again, signaling someone isn’t far behind us. We aren’t waiting around to see if it’s friend or foe. It doesn’t surprise me that they guessed where we were headed. I just needed enough time to get ahead of them.
Antonio is reversing down the lane, reaching the door just as Pedro takes the lead and holds it open.
“Perfect timing.”
Tre mutters, then breathes a sigh of relief as we watch the SUV pull up.
Two of the men clamber in through the trunk before they climb onto the third-row seats.
The third gets in the front while the fourth guard sprints around the back of the SUV and climbs into the second row as I follow Tre in.
We sandwich her between us. It’s a tight squeeze, but I know she’s protected from both sides.
We’re already peeling away from the hospital before we have our belts on.
“Tre, what’s the best way back to your parents’ house?”
“Antonio knows even better than I do.”
I’d like her to lean against me, so I can hide her away from this shit. She’s alert to everything around us, so I know she wouldn’t relax, even if I’m holding her. Antonio does an impressive job maneuvering, going full-blown Masshole driver.
“Call your head guard. Let him know we’re coming and need the gate open the moment he spots us.”
Tre pulls out her phone, watching me before she looks down to dial.
“Hank, we’re being followed. When you hear the horn, open the gate. They will pursue us all the way.”
“Ms. Vizzini, what’s happening? Who’s after you? Where’s Mr. Diaz?”
“He’s beside me. Just do it, Hank. I’ll explain to my father once we’re home. Don’t fucking call him either. Let me tell him.”