Page 47 of Waiting Game

It was history repeating itself. But I was only eleven years old when I witnessed my first gun fight, except that time, I wasn’t shielded by a car - only by my father’s body.

I ducked further down into the backseat so I couldn’t see.

I didn’t want to see.

I put my hands over my ears, but I could still hear the guns firing in the background no matter how hard I pressed. When I was with my father, I buried my face into his torso as he covered my face with one hand.

Now, I had to cover my own ears.

Not knowing became more frightening than the scene itself, and my mind began to make its own assumptions.

So, I took a deep breath, and looked again.

It was so hard to look away, but so hard to look at the same time.

I watched as Antoni leaped through the air, crash tackling Rome to the ground and behind the dumpster as the men had turned their attention to her. She had left the safety of the car door to protect her husband, and put herself in the firing line.

I wrapped a hand around my throat, hoping that it would stop me from screaming.

Then a scream did escape, as I heard a tapping on the window of the car.

A man stood, grinning at me, looking me up and down.

He reached down to open the door and I leaped forward, pushing the lock down quickly. The guy rattled the handle, trying to yank the door open before an arm wrapped around his throat and ripped him away from the car.

Ren caught eyes with me as he threw the man to the ground.

Then a loud sound rippled through the car as he shot him in the head. I clamped my hand over my mouth, and Ren looked at me again with darkened eyes.

He had just killed a man right in front of me.

The one thing that I had spent the last ten years trying to avoid, trying my hardest to never have to witness, and now I would never be able to unsee it.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

Then I heard another shot, and I looked towards the direction where it came from, and then back to Ren who was now holding his side.

“Ren!” I screamed, pressing my hands up against the window of the car door that separated us. Ren dropped to his knees, keeling over in pain as the man who shot him stalked towards us. I searched for Antoni, who was preoccupied, but still looking over his shoulder towards his best friend.

The man waved at me, before aiming the barrel of his gun back towards Ren.

Without thinking it through, I grabbed the gun Ren had given to me and launched out of the car. I flung the door open and stumbled forward, closing my eyes as I pulled the trigger.

There was silence for a second, then I opened my eyes.

I had shot him in the throat, and he collapsed to the ground, his gun falling from his hands.

I went to Ren, kneeling beside him.

“Oh my god,” I panted.

I moved his hand away from his stomach and could only see blood.

I was a nurse. I was used to seeing blood.

But this time, the sight made me dizzy.

A few more shots fired, and I flinched at every sound, holding Ren close and shielding him with my body. Then the squealing of tyres made everyone pause as a three more cars showed up. Panic rose in me again until I noticed the faces that arrived. Our backup scared off the remaining men, and they quickly got in their cars and sped off, showering us in gravel and dirt as their tyres spun.

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