by Wilder, L.
“What the fuck?” Viper roared as he shot up and rushed in that direction with the rest of us following closely behind. Danny’s hands were bound behind his back, and he could barely see through his swollen eyes and the blood running down his face. Just as he was about to topple over and fall flat on his face, Viper grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into a chair. “Sit your fucking ass down and don’t move.”
Danny didn’t speak. He simply lowered his head, cowering like a wounded animal. That’s when I noticed his blood-soaked shirt. It didn’t look like the blood had come from him, which left me wondering who the blood belonged to. I was just about to ask him when Shotgun appeared in the doorway, and like Danny, he was covered in blood. “Need help getting Rafe out of the truck.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Viper roared.
“That dumb motherfucker shot him!” Shotgun snarled.
Without another word, he turned and raced back to his truck. Viper turned to Lynch and ordered, “You stay here with him. Menace, you go get Doc.”
Menace nodded, then ran out of the bar while Viper and I went out to help Shotgun with Rafe. We found Rafe in the front seat, and a surge of adrenaline rushed through me as I noticed he had a bullet wound to the chest and another in his lower abdomen. His head was leaned back, and his white t-shirt was now completely drenched in blood. Unbuckling Rafe’s seatbelt, Shotgun whispered, “All right, brother. It’s time to get you inside.”
Rafe was pale and clearly weak as he raised up and looked at Shotgun. “You can stop with all that worrying shit, brother. I’m gonna be fine.”
“I know you are,” Shotgun argued.
“And another thing”—Rafe winced as Viper helped Shotgun carefully lift him out of the truck—“it ain’t your fault that dickhead shot me. No way you could’ve—”
“Enough of that,” Shotgun interrupted. “You need to save your strength.”
“I told you to stop that shit. I’m not dying. Damn.” Rafe grunted as they started towards the door. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
I rushed over and opened the door for them. Once they were inside, I started to follow them but stopped when Shotgun looked over to me and said, “Gonna need you to go get the girl.”
“The girl? What girl?”
“Says she’s Danny’s sister. She’s still in the back, and be careful,” Shotgun warned. “That one’s a live wire.”
With all the commotion, I hadn’t seen anyone else in the back seat, but I took his word for it and went over to the truck. I opened the back door to find an extremely pissed off red-headed beauty sitting there with her arms bound behind her back and duct tape covering her mouth. She was wearing a pair of blue scrubs, and her hair was pulled back, revealing the clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen. They were beautiful, not just because of the color, but because of the fire hidden behind them—the kind of fire that could burn straight to one’s very soul. Damn.
Delilah
We all have those memories that are stronger and more vivid than others. They often rise to the surface when we least expect it—maybe in a dream or if we’re having a bad day. For me, that memory had always been the day my mother finally got the courage to leave my father. I was only eight at the time, but even then, I knew the significance that day held. My father had never been one of those loving, doting husbands, nor was he a caring, understanding father. He was rarely even home, too busy gambling our money away instead of giving much thought to his family—and when he was, he’d be nothing but controlling and abusive, especially where my mother was concerned. She’d tried to make the best of it, doing everything she possibly could to make him happy and shielding us from the wrath of his uncontrollable temper. Unfortunately, as the years passed, it’d gotten harder and harder to please him, and even though she’d done everything she could to prevent it, his anger eventually became directed at my brother, Danny. It seemed like it was fine for my dad to beat the hell out of her, but the second she discovered that he’d put his hands on my brother, she was done. She had us pack our bags, and we headed to my grandmother’s house.
My grandmother had been in a nursing home for a month, so Mom decided that we could stay there until she was able to get back on her feet. The house wasn’t anything fancy, just an older three-bedroom home with room after room of antique furniture and tiny holes in the walls from where she’d hung our pictures all over the house, but I’d never felt so much at home as I did there. I could almost feel my grandmother’s presence watching over us as we settled in and slowly turned the place into our own. Without even knowing it, she’d given us a chance at a fresh start—one without fear or regret. There was no more tiptoeing around my father, watching our every word or being quiet as church mice. We were finally free to breathe, and it was wonderful. I couldn’t remember ever being happier than I was in that little house.
As I’d gotten older, I made a vow to myself to make the best out of the second chance my mother had given us. I graduated from college, earning a degree in health care, and had gotten a job at a nursing home, busting my ass in hopes of making my mother proud. I’d always hoped that my brother would do the same. Sadly, he hadn’t. He didn’t seem to care about anything, much less making anyone proud. I hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten with him until the day he almost got us both killed.
* * *
I was just about to get off work when my mother called my cellphone. Normally, I wouldn’t answer a call during work hours, but I’d already made my rounds and was gathering my things to go home. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Have you heard from Danny?”
“No. Why?”
Her voice was laced with concern as she replied, “I’ve been trying to get ahold of him for weeks, but he hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
“You know Danny. He’s probably just running around with his buddies or something,” I tried to reassure her. “Who knows? Maybe he actually got a real job.”
“I don’t know, Delilah. It’s not like him to go this long without answering my calls or texts. I’m really worried about him.”
I knew what was coming. She was going to ask me to go see about him. I’d been working all day, my head was pounding and my feet were aching, and the last thing I wanted to do was go check in on my big brother. Before she could ask, I suggested, “You know, you could just go over to his place and see if he’s there.”
“I know and I would, but he gets upset when he thinks I’m meddling in his life.” Knowing I’d failed, I cringed and waited for her to turn the tables on me. “I know you’re busy with work, and I really hate to ask ... but could you go over there and check on him?”
“Yeah, I’ll stop by his place on my way home from work.”
“And you won’t tell him that I sent you?”
“No, Mom, I won’t tell him.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I knew I could count on you,” she replied, sounding relieved.
“I’ll call you when I know something more.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I hung up my phone and slipped it into my bag. After I grabbed the rest of my things, I headed up front to find Janet, the lead nurse, to let her know I was leaving for the day. As luck would have it, I found her sitting at her desk, working on the next week’s schedule. She was deep in thought and hadn’t realized that I was standing in front of her until I said, “Hey ... I’m calling it a day.”
“Oh ... before you go, Carla has an appointment Tuesday afternoon.” Janet was in her late forties, heavy-set with jet-black hair that she colored way too often. Her makeup was a bit overdone, but she was still a pretty lady with a warm personality to match. She’d always been very kind to me, always treating me and the other nurses with nothing but respect, so it was impossible not to like her. She gave me a slight smile and said, “I was hoping you’d be able to work late on Tuesday?”
“Sure, I can do it.”
“Great!” She smiled. “I’ll put you down.”
“Sounds good.” I
turned to leave, and just as I was about to step through the door, I turned back and said, “Have a great night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You too.”
I got in my car and started driving over Danny’s apartment. It wasn’t anything special, just a one-bedroom with barely enough room for a bed and a sofa, but I had no idea how he paid for it. He hadn’t had a real job in months, so I could only assume that my mother had been helping him out—which aggravated me to no end. Danny was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he certainly didn’t need our mother giving him handouts. The thought was weighing on me as I pulled up to his apartment complex. I got out of my car and took a quick glance around but didn’t see his truck in the parking lot. I was beginning to think I’d wasted a trip until I spotted his Dodge pickup parked a couple of blocks down the street. While that seemed a bit odd, I didn’t stop to think about it. I wanted to check on him as quickly as possible, so I could get home and unwind for the day. I made my way up to his door, then knocked and waited for him to answer.
I hadn’t been standing there long when I grew impatient and knocked a second time, only harder. I was almost positive that I’d heard him moving around in there, so I shouted, “Danny! I know you’re in there! Open the stupid door!”
“Delilah?”
“Yeah! Who else would it be?” When the door flew open, I only got a quick glimpse of Danny’s pale, panic-stricken face before he turned and rushed down the hall. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve run into a little trouble.” I followed his voice into his bedroom and was surprised to see that there were various bags spread out across his bed. “I’m gonna have to get out of town for a little while.”
