Chapter 21 #2
The bench I slumped into was hard and uncomfortable, splinters digging into my back as if to kick me one last time while I was already down.
I shifted with discomfort as my eyes took in the scenery at the station.
There were clusters of people at different stops, waiting for buses to take them out of Miami.
In addition to the travelers, there was a noticeable number of homeless people huddled into balls, hands out to anyone passing by.
My jeans and hoodie were clean—expensive, too. However, if I was honest with myself, I had more in common with the beggars right about now. I was homeless, too.
I found myself thinking now was probably the best time for anyone to get out of Miami.
The city was mourning.
After the senseless deaths of seventy-three people, it seemed like everyone’s mood was a little downtrodden.
Despair hung thick in the atmosphere, almost choking us all.
I was in this bizarre headspace where I wasn’t sure if I was crying because I knew Kain was dead, or if it was the turmoil of not being certain.
Perhaps the heaviness on my chest would subside once I got confirmation. Maybe then I could begin to mourn as well.
Beside me, someone took a seat on the other half of the bench. I couldn’t be upset about this. It wasn’t like I owned this bench.
Briefly, I glanced at the new face, my nose wrinkling at the thick marijuana smell that clung to him.
His skin was brown like mine, but weather beaten, his face aged far beyond my own.
If he looked good for his age, then he must’ve been forty.
If he looked bad, then he could’ve been as young as twenty-something. It was hard to tell.
He caught me staring.
I looked away, trying to play it off.
“What’chu looking at, ma?” He spoke to the side of my face.
Deciding it wouldn’t be smart to ignore him, I replied with a lie. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”
He scooted up closer. “Well, maybe you do.”
“I was mistaken.”
“I was mistaken,” he mocked my words, laughing to himself. “You talk real sadity like. You goin’ somewhere fancy, like Atlanta?”
“Sure,” I replied quickly.
“So where ya bags at?” he posited skeptically. “Ya ticket?”
I ignored the question.
“What you is, like… seventeen, eighteen?” He leaned in even further, disturbing my personal space. His breath smelled like weed smoke. “You from around here?”
I scooted some, creating some distance. “Yes, and my Daddy…”
I stopped myself, forgetting my senses for a moment.
It had been days since I had to think about this, but my week with Kain hadn’t erased the fact that Silas Montgomery still had a bounty on me.
I couldn’t just go around threatening people with who my father is.
Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to be out here on my own like this.
Maybe I would have to swallow my pride and go home. I wasn’t safe out here.
“Ya Daddy…” Smoke Breath invited me to finish my sentence. I didn’t. “You a runaway?”
I drew in a sharp breath and decided to put my big girl panties on, looking at him directly. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’d really like to be left alone.”
He erupted into a fit of giggles. “Ah, you cute lil thing. A’ight, sir will leave you alone.”
And to my relief, he did, turning his attention to the phone in his hands. It wasn’t before long that a car pulled up in front of him, and I assumed that it was his ride. However, when the driver of the vehicle got out of the car, my senses went on red alert.
Slowly, I started to inch forward in my seat, getting ready to excuse myself.
“It’s about time, nigga,” Smoke Breath shouted at the driver, hand going out for a handshake. The greeting was strange, their hands lingering together for what felt like a second too long. When their hands separated, Smoke Breath’s hand dove into his pocket.
A drug sale.
The dealer caught my staring, and narrowed his eyes a little.
“Yo, you know this nosey bitch?” he asked Smoke Breath, his tone rising with suspicion.
I gotta get out of here.
“Ayeee, man, that’s my friend,” Smoke Breath cut in cooly, his arm going out to calm the rising tension. “She ain’t from around here. She just tryna get to Atlanta.”
I rose to my feet and took that as my cue to leave.
“It was nice seeing you,” I said to Smoke Breath, who laughed at me one more time.
“She high sadity,” I could hear Smoke Breath explaining as I turned to walk away.
“Ayo, wait!” My back went rigid at the sound of The Dealer trying to call back my attention. I kept walking. “Bitch, WAIT!”
That was not a suggestion. It was a demand.
I stopped, reluctantly turning on my heel.
“Where do I know you from?” he asked, eyes squinting as he searched his memory. Run, the voice inside my head shouted at me. When I didn’t answer The Dealer’s question, his fist went to the window of the passenger’s seat of his car, knocking hard.
Slowly, the dark-tinted window rolled down as I tried to take a step backward. Another man, sitting in the passenger’s seat of The Dealer’s car, came into view. The Dealer turned to The Passenger and asked, “She look familiar to you?”
The Passenger looked me over, his young face contorted in thought as he tried to remember.
And then it clicked.
Run.
“Yo, that’s…”
I didn’t hear him finish.
My feet took me out of there before he could explain my identity.
I bolted before thinking, taking off the heavy gray hoodie that slowed me down in my pursuit of a hiding place.
Behind me, I could hear muffled shouting.
I could hear stomping feet as faceless men started to chase me.
Hopefully one would trip over the hoodie I had taken off.
In my white tank top and jeans, I tried to dash as fast as humanly possible.
The fitted quality of my jeans constrained my legs, and they ripped at the knees with my sprinting.
My tired legs buckled under the fatigue of the day’s events, and my body began to fail me.
As I slowed, the sounds of being chased did not let up.
I was going to have to turn around and fight.
Turning around, I caught my breath, and waited. I was in a darkened alley between two closed stores. No one was around to witness.
“Yo… what’chu runnin’… for?” The Dealer was out of breath, ambling closer to me with a lazy confidence. I noted the gun in his left hand.
Left-handed, I thought to myself, remembering what Kain told me to do when I was met with a gun by a front-facing, left-handed attacker.
I took a step back. He was alone.
“You have a gun in your hand and you’re asking me why I’m running.” As he tried to catch his breath, I sidestepped slightly, getting out of the gun’s line of fire.
He laughed at my response. “You got jokes.”
I nodded, drawing in a long inhale. When I breathed out, my leg came up quickly, aiming for the gun in his hand, kicking it out of his grasp. Before he could react to the move, I lunged forward, aiming straight for his face, scratching uncontrollably.
His hands came up to shield his eyes, and his knee slammed into my stomach. Choking on my breath, I stumbled backwards, falling on my behind. On the ground beside me was his gun. Glock 19. I immediately reached for it and aimed.
A smile stretched across his face. “You don’t know what to do with that, lil girl.”
“You sure about that?” I kept it aimed at him, standing to my feet. My thumb brushed over a switch, releasing the gun’s safety hatch. The Dealer’s smile faded, his hands coming up in realization. “Leave me alone, and I won’t shoot you.”
This was not what Kain told me to do.
When faced with this situation, Kain said, ‘You need to empty the whole clip. And keep your eyes open.’
I didn’t have it in me to shoot someone.
“A’ight, I’ll leave you be,” The Dealer said slowly.
“Walk away.”
“I’m walkin’ away,” he said taking one step backward, watching my hand carefully. I breathed a sigh of relief.
It came too soon.
Calling my bluff, The Dealer crossed over and came at me fast. Frightened, my eyes snapped shut and I pulled the trigger. The thunderous sound of the shot ripped through my ears, feeling like a direct hit to my brain.
Going into shock, I dropped the gun and covered my ears, terrified of the incessant ringing that blared within them.
I couldn’t hear anything. My ears felt like they were bleeding. My eyes opened to find The Dealer sprawled onto the street, clutching his arm.
He was screaming, but through the ringing in my ears, it was barely audible.
I shot someone.
When the same car from the bus station drove up, two men rushed out, guns brandished. One of them was The Passenger, and the other was a new face. Smoke Breath was nowhere to be seen. My hearing was beginning to normalize.
“Yooo, you let her get your gun!”
I rushed to reach for the weapon I’d dropped.
The Passenger cocked his gun and shouted, “Try it, bitch!”
They had me.