Page 63 of Seek Him Like Shelter

“Elian?” I cut him off on a small sob.

“Where are you?” he asked, tone soft but no-nonsense, wanting the facts, ready to jump into action.

“W…work. You didn’t see?” I asked, figuring this must be all over Brooklyn, the city, the country by now.

“See what?” he asked, and I could hear the sounds of traffic.

He was already on his way. I just had to try to hold it together a little longer.

“News,” I said, sniffling hard.

“No, baby, I didn’t see the news,” he said, making my heart squeeze. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m… alright,” I said unconvincingly. “He’s shot,” I went on, knowing he needed to know what he was getting himself involved in.

“Who’s shot?” he asked.

“The senator,” I said, voice breaking. “It was supposed to be me,” I admitted, thinking if I’d just been a second earlier, or if Michael hadn’t moved exactly the way he had, that it would have been me with the hole in my chest, with my blood streaming out. Too much, too quickly. That I could be in the hospital fighting for my life right now.

“Someone shot the senator?” Elian asked.

“He was aiming for me,” I said in a whisper. There were too many people around. In the hall, talking, crying, hugging, and consoling one another. “Michael accidentally got in the way.”

“You’re not hurt?” he asked, voice tight.

“No. I… I ran into the bathroom,” I admitted, feeling every bit the coward. “And called the police. It didn’t look good,” I said, closing my eyes tight, feeling more tears stream down my cheeks.

“My concern is you right now,” he said, a chorus of horns in the background.

“The paramedics took him away. But he wasn’t conscious,” I went on. “The police got him.”

“Got who, baby?”

“The shooter.”

“The police have the shooter?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes. My coworkers attacked and held onto him,” I admitted. “While I tried to stop the bleeding.”

“Michael is in the best hands right now,” Elian insisted. “Fuck, this place is a zoo,” he said.

“You’re here?” I asked, hope rising.

“I am. I don’t think I can get in, though. There’s cops and news everywhere.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, hearing the defeat in my voice.

“I need you to come down to me, okay?” he asked. “Are you done talking to the police?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Then you can leave. Just grab your things and come down. No one is going to hurt you, not in this mess. Just go outside and turn to the left. I’ll meet you just a couple dozen feet away from all the news crews.”

“I can’t just leave,” I said, looking at the staff.

“Yes, you can. You need to. Dismiss the staff, then come down here to me. Let’s go home.”

Home.

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