Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
All I heard was that Charlotte was shot. And I’m up on my feet. “What? No! What happened? OMG, I have to go. Where is she?” My questions are rapid-fired at Emmanuel.
I walk past him towards the front of the house. Gone is my fear of being gunned down by the lunatics he has surrounding this place. My sole focus on getting to my friend.
Charlotte was shot. This isn’t real.
A pair of arms wraps around me from behind just before I reach the door. “Evie, she’s okay,” Emmanuel whispers into my ear. He is the last person I want to be taking comfort from. And yet, when he touches me, that’s exactly what I do.
My body relaxes into his a little. He’s a good hugger. Tight, like I’m wrapped in a protection bubble. That’s how I felt on the sofa. I almost protested when he got up to go talk to Paz. I was enjoying the bubble.
“How do you know?” I ask him.
“I had Paz hack into the hospital system. He read her files. She’s out of surgery and in recovery. She will be okay,” Emmanuel says, his voice soft. Soothing. “Come on, let’s go.”
Emmanuel holds my hand throughout the entire ride to the hospital, his grip firm. I don’t even try to pull away. I can’t. I need the anchor. My head is full of images. Dark images.
“It’s my fault,” I say.
“What’s your fault?”
“Charlotte getting shot. It’s my fault.”
“How the fuck do you figure that?” Emmanuel grunts.
“I encouraged her to stay. I should have talked her into going home.” If I had done that, she would have been safe right now.
“That is not your fault. You’re not blaming yourself for something you had no control over. Someone took a shot at Louie, and your friend pushed him out of the way. She literally jumped in front of the bullet,” Emmanuel says. He seems to know a lot about this.
“When did you find out?”
“Shortly after it happened. I wanted to wait until she was out of surgery before I told you,” he admits.
“What? You knew and didn’t tell me. You let me sit there and watch some crappy movie while my best friend was in surgery. I can’t believe you.” I snatch my hand out of his. When the car comes to a stop, I try to yank the door open, but it doesn’t budge. “Open the fucking door!” I yell.
Emmanuel gets out on his side and slams the door shut. Then he comes around and opens my door, leaning into the car until he’s taking up most of my space. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily. I wanted to be able to tell you after we knew she was going to be fine.”
“And what if she wasn’t?” I counter.
“Then I would have found a way to break the heart of probably the only person alive I don’t want to disappoint,” he says, and his eyes connect with mine.
I don’t care about his bullshit words. He can’t possibly mean them.
“Move! Let me out!” I hiss between clenched teeth.
Emmanuel looks me over before he steps out of the way. But he catches me before I can storm off. “Walk behind me. Paz will walk behind you.”
“Why? Scared I’ll run?”
“Run and I’ll chase you, mi alma.” He lifts a challenging brow at me before adding, “I don’t know who took a shot at Louie, and if they’re stupid enough to try to hit him on his home turf, who knows what else they’re capable of. I don’t want you taking any stray bullets.”
It takes a minute for his words to sink in. “Is Charlotte still in danger?”
“No. Neither are you, if you stay behind me,” Emmanuel says. “Don’t ever do what your friend did. Move away from bullets, not towards them.”
“Pfft, please, I’d be the one waving a red flag over your head so they knew where to aim,” I huff.
Emmanuel laughs. “Also, this deal of ours… it stays between us. I’d hate to have to kill our best friends because they tried to take you from me,” he says.
Then he just turns and walks into the hospital. And sure enough, as I follow him, Paz follows me.
I turn and look at the guy over a shoulder. “You, I might save.” I wink and Paz shakes his head.
The moment Emmanuel pushes through a set of double doors, I hear Louie’s loud voice. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Where is she?” My hands ball into fists and slam against his chest. “What the hell did you do?”
Emmanuel grabs me around the waist and pulls me away from Louie. “Whoa, it wasn’t him,” he says.
Struggling against his hold is pointless. The man has a firm freaking grip. “If it weren’t for him, nothing would have happened to her. Where is…” I stop moving when I look through the window behind Louie and spot Charlotte on the bed—wires attached to her body. “No!”
“She’s going to be okay,” Louie says. “She’s going to wake up.”
Giving him my best fuck you glare, I shake out of Emmanuel’s hold (or let’s be real… he lets me go) and I walk into the hospital room.
“Oh my god, Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I never should have talked you into staying here. I’m so sorry.” I kneel down next to her bed. Close my eyes and hold her hand as I pray. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to help her.
Rachel! I need to call Rachel. She will know what to do. I stand and realize I don’t have my phone. Where did I leave it?
Louie storms into the room. He sits on the opposite side of the bed and starts scrolling through his phone. “Fuck!” he hisses out.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, not because I care. He could literally burn in hell. But I, for one, do not want to explain to my best friend why her husband was burned alive when she wakes up. Because she will wake up. There is no other option.
“My wife was shot. So, no, I’m not fucking okay,” he grunts.
“What happened?” I’ve heard Emmanuel’s version of the story, but I’m not sure I can trust him.
“She jumped in front of a bullet that was meant for me,” Louie says, sounding defeated.
“She loves you. You would have done the same thing… if you were the one who saw it coming. Right?” I ask him.
“Of course I would have. I don’t know what music she likes. I need to play her music and I don’t know what kind she likes.” He looks across the bed to me.
I smile. “Charlotte, if you don’t wake up, I’m going to tell him you love Tay-Tay and that’s all you’re going to hear until you wake up.” She doesn’t budge. I thought for sure that would do it. “Why isn’t she waking up?”
“They said she will, in her own time.”
“Well, that time could be now.” I look to Charlotte. Still nothing. “She likes country. Just put on any country mix and she will love it,” I say, sitting down.
“You think she can hear us?” Louie asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
I would like to think if she could, she’d wake herself up. Charlotte is the last person who would want her loved ones worried about her.
My butt is numb when I finally stand again. “I’m going to get coffee,” I tell Louie.
We’ve both been sitting here for hours. Watching Charlotte. I don’t know what to say to him, and honestly, the quiet has been welcoming. My head is a mess. Everything with Emmanuel and then Charlotte… I don’t know what I’m doing.
The minute I step out of Charlotte’s room, Paz stands from the plastic chair. “Jefe wanted me to give you this.” He hands me my phone.
“Thanks.” I smile or at least try to.
“How is she?” Paz asks.
“Still asleep,” I tell him. “I’m going to get coffee.”
“I’m coming.” He walks beside me. A comfortable silence falls over us as we make our way to the Starbucks located at the front of the hospital.
While I’m waiting for my order, I scroll through my missed messages and calls. There’s one from a name I don’t know. Mi Amor. I tap on the message and instantly know who it is.
Mi Amor:
I had to step out. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Me:
You left? I didn’t even notice. Is what you’re doing dangerous?
His response comes immediately.
Mi Amor:
You worried about me, mi alma?
Me:
No, but I’ve heard it’s fun to play chicken with bullets. You should try it.
Mi Amor:
I’ll keep that in mind.
I look across to Paz. “What does mi amor mean?”
“Ah, it means my love.” He looks uncomfortable.
“Pfft, my love, my ass. What’s the Spanish word for asshole?” I ask him.
“Female or male?”
“Male,” I tell him.
“Cabrón,” he says. “Want help spelling it?” Paz looks over at my screen as I change the contact name Emmanuel put in for himself.
“I’ve got it.” I smirk. I’ve heard this word once or twice. It’s fitting.
“You probably shouldn’t be too hard on him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to you, so he’s going to fuck up a lot,” Paz says.
“Really? And here I thought kidnapping women from planes and keeping them hostage was a completely normal dating ritual.” I roll my eyes.
“In some worlds, it is.” Paz shrugs.
My name is called out at the counter, and I pick up two venti-sized coffees. I got one for Louie, even though he doesn’t deserve it.
“He does care,” Paz tells me as we make our way back. “For you.”
“Sure he does.” How can Emmanuel care about me? He doesn’t even know me.
“What if he didn’t come back? What if he did have to play chicken with bullets and got hit? How would you feel?”
“Free,” I deadpan before my smile drops. The thought of Emmanuel not actually coming back makes me feel something else. Something I’m not prepared to acknowledge.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Paz nods and returns to the crappy plastic chair he has positioned outside Charlotte’s door.
I pause in my tracks as soon as I walk back into the room. “Oh my god, you’re awake. Why didn’t you tell me she woke up?” I glare at Louie. He’s so not getting his coffee now.
“What are you doing here? You went home,” Charlotte asks me.
“I… ah… ran into a little obstacle. We’ll talk about it later. I’m just so glad you’re awake. You scared the crap out of me. Don’t do that again,” I tell her.
The doctor finishes checking her over and then leaves the room. Shit, I still need to call Rachel. “What happened? To the guy?” Charlotte says.
“Security got him seconds after he fired the shot,” Louie tells her.
I tune out of their conversation and have my own private one with God. Thanking him for not taking my friend.
“Now, you. Why are you back?” Charlotte looks directly at me.
“Shit, it’s my mom. I gotta take this.” I wave my phone in the air—the one that’s not ringing—and basically run from the room.
Your mom? Really, of all people, that’s who you choose? Charlotte knows I haven’t spoken to my mother in years.