Page 3 of Lost Soul

My breaths come out too loud, and the sound of my heart as it slams against my ribs makes me sure whoever is in here will hear how petrified I am. I’m trapped, helpless, and even if I want to scream out to Mama, I doubt my voice could pull together enough strength to make a sound.

My eyes squeeze shut when the covers are ripped away from me. The giant hand slamming over my mouth causes pure terror to creep up from my throat. The sound it makes on the way out muffles into the hand that suffocates me, and I fight hard. I lash out as I’m dragged backwards and forced tight against a solid chest that seems to beat almost as rapidly as my own.

“Shhhh. I’ma get you out of here. Okay?” The breathy voice that speaks in my ear instantly floods my body with relief.

Jessie. The voice belongs to Jessie.

I don’t have time to think about what’s happening, Jessie takes my hand and drags me towards the window. Then making sure we keep our backs against the wall by pressing his arm across my chest, he pulls back my curtain to check outside.

“Come on,” he whispers, forcing my window to slide up and then gestures his head out towards the thick tree branch. I look back at him, reluctant to do what he’s asking.

“Now don’t be pretendin’ this is the first time you’ve climbed out this window.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. How he even knows that, can’t be my concern right now. I have to focus. We’re in danger.

“It’s not that. Jessie.” I shake my head. “We can’t leave, what about Mama?” I ask, watching his face change, his jaw tensing the way it does when he gets mad about something.

“You’re gonna need to be brave darlin’,” he tells me, trying his best to make his voice sound calm.

Darlin’? This is new. He’s never called me that before—irritating little brat, sure, but never darlin’. It warms me all the way up because I’ve heard the other guys call their old ladies it sometimes.

“Ya hearing me, Hay?” Jessie interrupts my dreamy thoughts. This time his tone is firmer and snaps me back to reality.

“It’s too late. They got her, come on we got to move.” His words abolish any warm feelings. Replacing them with a heavy dread that sinks to the pit of my stomach.

“Hay… come the fuck on. We haven’t got time for this, I’m gonna take you to Prez! You hearing me? I need to get you safe.” Jessie’s shouting now. Calling over another loud strike, that’s followed by the sound of a bullet pinging the lock off my door. It’s enough to get me climbing on to the branch of the tree, survival mode kicking in and overriding my shock and panic.

Jessie is close behind me when I jump from the branch, my feet landing on the ground with a thud that makes my ankles feel as though they’ve snapped. He snatches up my top, hoisting me up from the ground and pushes me forward.

“Fuckin’ run,” he calls out as another blast sounds from my bedroom window. I hear a low growl that sounds a lot like it comes from him, but I’m too scared to look back. Having no idea where exactly I’m running to, I aim for straight ahead, braving a look behind me to check that Jessie is still there, and relieved to see that he is.

He’s clutching at his shoulder like it’s injured as he runs to catch up with me, and when he’s made up space between us he wraps his arm around my waist, opens up the door to his truck and pushes me inside.

“Keep ya head down,” he orders, as I shuffle along the seat and make space for him in the driver’s seat beside me. The engine starts, and my body slides across the bench seat as he swings the truck into reverse. We take off with an ear-splitting shriek of tires, and the sound of bullets ricocheting off the truck bed.

It isn’t until I look back in the rear window and our house is no longer in sight that I finally take a breath, which allows a new wave of panic to suddenly hit me. ‘It’s too late. They got her.’ I’m sure that’s what I’d heard Jessie say back in my room.

Mama?

Who had her?

“Jessie, where’s Mama?” I ask, despite being petrified of the answer.

“I’m so sorry, Hay, I wasn’t quick enough. I had to choose.” His eyes are soft when they glance across at me but they turn cold when he focuses back on the road, his fist clutching hard at the steering wheel. I notice his T-shirt, becoming darker and darker as it absorbs more blood from his wound.

“Fuck! Jessie you’re bleeding,” I scream, suddenly terrified for him, but Jessie doesn’t seem much bothered.

“I got shot…” he tells me casually, pulling out his cell and wedging it between his uninjured shoulder and his ear.

“Skid, it’s Jessie. Is Prez there…?” He speaks into the phone. “…Well drag him off her, this is fucking big…” Jessie turns his head away from me and lowers his voice. “…like his old lady’s just been shot fuckin’ dead kinda big, Skid, put him on.”

I’m surprised at the tone Jessie takes with Skid, the guy’s a tower block of a man and nobody disrespects him, especially not a prospect.

Daddy must come to the phone after what seems like a lifelong wait.

“Prez. Yeah, she’s with me.” Jessie takes his eyes off the road to scan me over for injury.

“Fine but shook up to hell… No there were two of them, I only managed to take one out. Sorry, Prez, I couldn’t get to them both… Yeah, shit reeks of Bastard... about ten minutes away, I’ma need the doc for myself, but she’s okay I swear.” When he’s finished, he lets the phone drop to the footwell then tells me to steady the wheel while he uses his good arm to drag his T-shirt up over his head.

“Here.” He takes the wheel back and tosses the shirt at me. I can’t help but look at his body, at the muscles that tighten around his rib cage and ripple over his stomach. “Hold it over the wound, press as hard as you can to stop the bleeding.”

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