Page 33 of Chasing Storm

As if he read my mind, he responds, “That’s right.” He sits back, swirls the ice cubes in his glass, and adds, “We’re one big happy family.”

I’m dumbfounded. Two rival gangs becoming one is insane, yet Leo did it. I gotta hand it to him. His knack for persuasion can get a nun to turn tricks. We clink glasses.

“It’s a process. Bringing the families together, designating areas, and tasks will take time.” He pauses. “Are you sure you don’t want in, Joe?”

“Nope. I’m good with working numbers, investing, and taking care of Tea.”

This prompts us to look over at Isabella and Teagan. They put Maya to sleep and they’re talking in the kitchen, drinking tea. From here, I can tell Tea has calmed a little. I guess baby Maya helped take her mind off the last several days. Nonetheless, Teagan appears dejected, like her soul is on hiatus. Her makeup free face is blotchy, matching her swollen, red eyes. Hunched over in her chair, coddling her cup, she gazes at nothing as if she checked out. Isabella stops talking, sliding a hand back and forth over Tea’s arm.

I hate being helpless, but there’s nothing I can do for her. Teagan will snap out of her sorrow at some point. For now, all I can do is be there for her when she wants to talk, scream, cry, anything to purge the pain.

We all retire to our rooms. In bed, I curl myself around Teagan to provide safety. My body a shield. I kiss her hair while she cries herself to sleep.

It’s time to head home. Isabella and Leo would love for us to stay longer, but we need to get back to Sean and my mom. We have a lot of decisions to make concerning where to live. At breakfast, we keep things light, and promise to keep in touch. Isabella packs a cooler for our travels, and Leo extends his hand, holding a padlock and gold-plated brass knuckles.

I ask, “What are these for?”

“If my memory serves me correctly, James’ goons used these on you.” I still don’t understand. “Since James is missing, we broke in and raided his house.” This makes me laugh because it’s a perfect way to force James’ hand if he ever decides to make an appearance. “In our search, we found these in the top drawer of his desk on top of the black-market hit. I assume these were his weapons of choice to leave you incapacitated.”

I still haven’t taken them from him.

He nudges them toward me. “At least take the brass knuckles. You can use them or sell them.”

I slip the brass knuckles into my pocket and thank him.

We say our goodbyes, and I buckle Teagan into the car. Before we get on the highway, I need to stop for gas. I’m driving south on the Dan Ryan and find a gas station right off the ramp. At this time of day, there isn’t anyone else at the pumps. I pull up, get out, and start pumping gas. Before I can stop her, Teagan walks toward the small gas station store.

“Get in the car, Tea. This isn’t a safe area.”

“I need gum. I’ll only be a minute.”

“Tea.”

The woman never listens. She waves to me inside the store while I continue gassing up the car. Another vehicle pulls into the gas station, jacked up with big rimmed tires. A sure sign of gang bangers. My eyes fasten on the car. It feels like there’s a hiccup in time, paused, muffling all sounds. Activity crawls at a turtle’s pace. The passenger window rolls down as the car comes to a stop. It’s Jimar Neal, leader of the Blood Brothers. The fucker must not have gotten the notice the hit is gone. He gives me a venomous smile. I duck behind my car, holding my gun in my hand, before he even has a chance to take aim. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Shots are fired and then time tries to catch up. I stand, watching the tires screech as the car tears out of the parking lot.

There’s movement behind me. I spin around, gun lined up with the target, and the guy has his hands up.

“Don’t shoot! I’m just trying to help this woman.”

My eyes shift to Tea. Her wide eyes are on me, and I break the connection. My slow gaze lowers to her hands that are pressed against her abdomen, drenched in red. I drop my gun, run to her, and lay her on the ground. Her eyes are vacant, so I check for a pulse which is faint.

I yell to the guy, “Call 911.”

I unzip her coat.

There’s so much blood.

Blood soaked up to her chest.

Blood covering her hands.

“Stay with me, Tea. Don’t you fucking give up!”

Tearing the sleeve off her coat, I apply pressure to her stomach. I hear the ambulance coming, and my heart pounds in succession to the sirens.

“I got you, Tea. Just hang on. The ambulance will be here soon.” Her eyes flutter closed. “Don’t you fucking die on me!”

I kneel, pressing harder against the wound. Emotions strangle me into silence until I suck in a huge breath.

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