Chapter 13 #2
“Don’t talk like that,” Trenton says. “Maximo’s a tough bastard.
My boy Joey, though…” he lifts his arm to draw my attention to where they are lifting Joey’s body onto a gurney.
As they lift him, I can see the awful crater where the side of his head used to be.
“Dammit, Joey.” Trenton sniffs as his own tears threaten to fall. “He was my best friend.”
“I’m so…so sorry, Trenton.”
One of the hospital security guards approaches us and looks the two of us up and down. “You two sure you’re not hurt? At least come inside and get checked out. I’ll need you to stay with me while the police get here and figure all this out. Do either of you know what the hell happened?”
“Ask them.” Trenton waves a hand towards the two bodies lying in the street that are both being worked on by the hospital staff. “They just pulled up and started shooting at us.” As he talks, Trenton gives my arm a gentle squeeze, then glances down at me.
I got the message immediately. It’s one Maximo had made clear previously. We don’t get the police involved any more than absolutely necessary, and you certainly never tell them your business. “I don’t know,” I manage to tell the guard through my tears. “I don’t know anything.”
“Well, come on inside. I’ll show you where you can wash up and wait until the police arrive.
They’ll have more questions for you; I have no doubt.
” He turns to lead us inside, and I follow along behind him half-blinded by my tears.
I don’t know what else to do, or where else to go.
Without Maximo by my side, with him possibly dying right now, I have no idea what comes next.
After leading us to a large, single-occupancy family bathroom to clean up, the security guard helping Trenton and me walks with us to a small office.
It’s lined with monitors showing various camera angles throughout the hospital.
“I talked to my boss,” he advises us as he waves towards several empty chairs lined up along the wall.
“I’m going to isolate the footage of the attack while he deals with the police.
He’ll bring them here to talk to you after they’ve secured the scene.
Do you two need anything while I work on this? ”
“I need to know where Maximo is and that he’s going to be okay,” I reply.
Trenton doesn’t say anything but instead takes a seat and hangs his head to stare at the floor.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any information about that right now.
” The security guard grimaces and shrugs.
“Let me get this footage saved and I’ll go ask around while you talk to the police.
The good news is that it happened here at the hospital.
If there’s anything that can be done for your friends, the doctors will help them. ”
“There’s nothing they can do for Joey,” Trenton says somberly. “He took one to the head. I saw it. Cracked like an egg. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men can’t put that Humpty back together again.”
I’m shaken from my own grief when I realize Trenton is quietly crying, and I reach over to awkwardly pat at his arm. “I’m sorry about your friend. I hadn’t gotten to know him that well yet, but he seemed like a good guy.”
“We came up together. I went to high school with him,” Trenton says.
“God, how am I going to explain this to his mother? Ah, hell, that’s a worry for later.
” He swipes the back of his hand across his eyes, then squeezes my hand.
“Maximo is what matters right now. Don’t worry, Constance.
It looked like his hip was messed up, but I’m sure he’ll be all right. I’m sure of it,” he repeats.
I don’t know if he’s trying to convince me or himself, but I nod to him and try to swallow down the lump in my throat.
I’ve got to keep my composure. I can’t afford to fall apart right now.
Irina Volkov is still out there. If we’re lucky, the police will intercept the van and maybe put an end to this.
But I can’t rely on that. Waiting for the police has done nothing to help us so far, and I doubt that they’ll come through now.
“Joey called out right before the shooting started. Did he see Irina? Was she driving or a passenger in the van?” I ask Trenton.
“I don’t know,” he says while still looking at the floor. “I heard him yell, but I was focused on the guys with guns falling out the back, not whoever was driving.”
I stand up and lean over the security guard, who’s scrolling back through the surveillance footage just outside the emergency room.
The footage isn’t very sharp. As I look around at the other screens, I notice that all of the feeds are a bit grainy, even though they are in color.
“Not the highest quality cameras, are they?” I remark to the guard as he pauses a video just as the white van appears in frame.
“The security system is a bit outdated,” he agrees. “You were asking about someone named Irina? I don’t see anybody in the passenger seat of this van, but there does appear to be a woman driving.” He points to a pale, narrow face which can barely be seen behind the steering wheel.
“I think it’s her. Irina Volkov. What do you think, Trenton?” I ask as I turn back to him.
He never raises his head from where he is staring at the floor between his feet.
“Of course it’s her. Joey said so right before he died.
Who else would have been waiting to ambush us?
God, I should have known being predictable and coming back here today was a mistake.
I should have known,” he repeats as he runs his hands through his hair.
“I’m going to go check and see if the police are here and ready to talk to you,” the security guard says as he heaves himself to his feet. “Do you two need a drink or anything? There’s a snack machine just down the hall on the left. Don’t wander off too far, though. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Ask about Maximo, please. Maximo Luciani,” I tell him. He gives me a curt nod, then pulls the office door closed behind him.
I stand by his desk looking at the frozen frame of the white van pulling up beside us and Joey’s last moments of life.
A sharp stab of grief pierces me as I see Maximo walking just ahead of me in the footage, and I realize why Trenton can’t bear to look at the screen.
It’s the last seconds of life for one, maybe two of his best friends.
“He’s going to be all right,” I say out loud as I sit back down to wait.
“He has to be,” Trenton agrees. “He has to be,” he repeats in a whisper before getting to his feet and walking over to the window. After fiddling with the latch, he gets it cracked open, then pulls out his vape and takes a long drag.
“I don’t think the security guy will appreciate you stinking up his office,” I tell him as I catch a whiff of the sweet vapors. “Is that how you stayed so cool when they started shooting? You were stoned?”
“I don’t know. I always try to stay a little stoned. But yeah, maybe it helped me not overreact. Maybe I was just lucky. My dad always used to tell me God must love drunks and idiots; they always seem to survive.”
“I don’t drink much, so I guess I know what that makes me,” I remark and laugh bitterly.
Trenton snorts as he takes another drag.
“You’re no idiot. You being okay is the only good thing to come out of this.
I wish it had been me that got hit instead of Maximo, but the truth is that as long as you’re all right, and if Maximo survives, he’ll chalk this up as a win.
He gave me and Joey real simple orders regarding you.
Protect her at all costs. If nothing else, we managed that.
Yes, we did.” He swipes at his face again, trying to catch the tears escaping down his cheeks.
“Thank you. Without you and Joey, we would have been—”
“Hey, don’t think about that,” Trenton interrupts me. “You don’t have to thank me. Save it for Joey’s family and his funeral. He deserves it, not me.”
Trenton falls silent while he smokes. My mind is so consumed by Maximo that I can’t think past my fears. I’m carrying his child, Irina is still on the loose, and I have no idea how to deal with all this without him.
Or do I?
I try to get a grip on myself and think about what to do next if Maximo is incapacitated, or God forbid, if he dies. Take my phone, he had told me. It’s got Irina’s number.
He wasn’t telling me that so that I would call her and bitch.
He wants me to continue what he had planned.
We’ve got Irina’s son Jacob back at the estate right now.
My mind is already churning with possible plans, but I have to shelve my racing thoughts when the door opens and the security guard from earlier leads Detective Tillman into the office.
“Ms. Monroe. I hate that we’re meeting again under these circumstances,” the detective greets me with an extended hand, which I give a quick shake.
“And this must be your bodyguard. I remember seeing him at the station when Mr. Luciani came to pick you up. I didn’t catch your name, Mister… ?” he asks Trenton.
“Trenton D’Angelo.” He leaves the window and shakes Detective Tillman’s hand, then sits down beside me.
“Trenton, nice to meet you. Again, I regret it’s under these circumstances,” Detective Tillman says as he sits down in the security guards’ swivel chair near the monitors, then produces a notepad and quickly scribbles something.
“Is this the footage of the attack?” he asks the security guard, who is still standing by the door.
“Yes, I’ve pulled it up there,” the security guard confirms. He points at the mouse and keyboard and says, “Just hit play.”
Detective Tillman watches the surveillance video completely through twice, then places his hands on the keyboard and spends a few moments typing. “I’m sending a copy of this footage to my e-mail,” he says as he works. “Are there any other angles, or is this everything?”
“That’s all of it,” the security guard confirms.