Lost for You

by BJ Harvey

  Then it dawned on me. “Fuck! I need to ring Shay and warn him. Thirty-six hours is long enough for Gibbons to get to Elle.”

  The boss looked over at me, grinning like an idiot. “There’s my boy. I knew you had some fight in you. You ring Shay while I check travel bookings. If he’s left the state, I’ll soon know about it,” he mused, almost rubbing his hands in glee. The boss enjoyed this part of the game.

  That was three days ago.

  Gibbons turned up for his shift the next morning, acting completely normal. Only the boss and I know that he is compromised, so we decided not to rock the boat. We need to find out who he is working for before we confront him and, in the boss’ words, ‘throw out the trash.’ He’s not one to take something like this lying down.

  He didn’t ask Gibbons why I’m back, so I’ve had to grin and bear it, acting like nothing is wrong. To be honest, it’s been the hardest three days of my life; being away from Elle and not even being able to contact her to let her know I’m okay. I’ve also had to keep my poker face on in front of Gibbons while the boss investigates him, trying to find evidence of who he’s working for, and any recent contact he’s had with anyone of interest. We think he has to be working for either Evans or Brimstone. My bet is on Brimstone. Evans is a lot of things, but he would never cross the boss man. The boss knows he is my father and their business may occasionally run in the same circles, but at the end of the day, even dear old dad wouldn’t risk my life.

  I stayed in the apartment above HQ for three days until the boss sent me a text earlier tonight, telling me the plan. I was to get Elle to meet me out of town, somewhere totally unexpected and unpredictable. That’s why I picked the bandstand on the New Orleans’s waterfront. Elle has never been there, I’ve never been there, and by all accounts it is as public as can be while also being easy to escape from if need be. I’d even arranged a thirty minute window for tonight, getting Leo to cover my ass with Gibbons while I went off radar and called Elle from a payphone down the street. Everything was going to plan until I heard that gun shot.

  I will spend the rest of my life making this up to Elle, and hunting down whoever fired that shot.

  I will make sure she is never alone or put in danger ever again, if it’s the last thing I do

  I’ve been walking for a mile along the I-85 out of Atlanta, hoping that a trucker will have mercy on me. Sure enough, an 18-wheeler pulls up a few moments later. Opening the cab door, I see a heavy set man wearing shorts and a plaid shirt grumbling at me to get in.

  “Thanks for this, man. I’m heading to Charlotte if you’re going that way,” I say to him.

  “Yup. Hop in. The name’s Frank,” he grunts as he puts the big rig in gear and pulls back out onto the road. I like Frank already; a man of few words. Right now, the last thing I want to do is talk.

  Elle has been in surgery for two hours. I’ve been pacing the hospital’s family room waiting for any news. I had to lie and say I’m her fiancé. It was the only way I could get information about her status. It’ll take a bit of explaining when Brax gets here, but who cares. I want to be able to give him up to date information when he calls.

  I still haven’t heard from him since his texts from Atlanta. All going well, he should be getting close to Charlotte now. I know it’s going to take him a good twelve hours to get here if he can get a car from Devon, but knowing how determined he is, he’ll drive through the night to get here. Nothing will stop him getting back to Elle. I just hope Devon comes through for him. Last time I saw him was nine years ago, and he wasn’t in a good place. Then he went inside which wouldn’t have done him any good.

  I grab a coffee from the waiting room and snag a couch, making myself comfortable for the long night ahead of me. I can’t help thinking about how I failed Elle tonight. How on earth did the intruder get past me, let alone get into Elle’s apartment? Brax is going to chew my ass out once he gets over the shock and sees that Elle is going to be okay. Hell, she’d better come out of this okay. Brax will never forgive me if she doesn’t.

  It’s now 6 a.m., and I’ve had a few hours of broken sleep on the dingy couch in the hospital waiting room. I’ve only had one update so far which was when the surgical nurse came and told me that they were still working to control the bleeding and stabilize her. It’s been five hours, and I’m starting to worry. I haven’t heard from Brax again either, but I’m hoping he is on his way back now. I had a missed called from Gibbons, but I don’t trust myself to talk to him right now.

  Once Brax and I realized that Gibbons played us, I’d stopped taking his calls until Brax called me two days ago and told me of the plan he has to smoke him out. We think he’s working with Brimstone and has been relaying everything we tell him. Brax has been itching to get back, but until tonight we’ve had no firm plans, and now Elle being shot has thrown all those carefully laid out plans out the window. Brax was going to take her to our boss’ safe house in Kentucky and lay low until everything was squared away. Now I don’t have a clue what we’re going to do.

  According to the nurses, Elle will be in hospital for at least two to three weeks and will require breathing rehabilitation after she’s discharged because she had a collapsed lung from the bullet. I hope Brax gets here soon. I know he’ll want to be here when she wakes up. God, she’d better wake up!

  Where did I go wrong? Who is the shooter? What on earth are the police going to do about this whole thing?

  I’ve already been told to go down to the station to make a statement, but I’m putting it off because I know how it will go. How do I know Miss Halliwell? What was I doing in her apartment? Why didn’t I secure the shooter? Who do I work for? All questions I have to look forward to, but they’ll be a piece of cake compared to the grilling I’ll get from Brax. I know I let him and Elle down. In all the years that we’ve known each other, I’ve never once disappointed him. If Elle doesn’t come through this, I know that Brax will never get over it. Believe me; losing the love of your life is not something you can just get over.

  C’mon, Brax. Let me know where you are.

  I check for any new text messages from Brax, then look up to see the scrub nurse standing in the doorway with a slight smile on her face.

  “She’s coming out of surgery now. She lost a lot of blood, but they were able to stop the bleeding and reinflate the punctured lung. She’s got a long road to recovery ahead of her, but she is going to be okay, barring any complications. I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Thank you so much. Can someone please let me know when I can see her?” I ask. I need to see her breathing again. I have an image embedded in my brain of her pale and lifeless body lying in the back of the ambulance. Then she coded, and they’d had to resuscitate her. I need to feel her pulse to believe that she is truly alive so that I can get that image out of my head.

  “Sure thing. It’ll be awhile. We’ve got to do regular checks while she’s on the ventilator and unconscious. I’ll have to get the doctor to come and talk to you about the recovery process and what to expect, but once we’ve got her settled into intensive care, I’ll send someone down to get you.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” I reply, breathing out a huge sigh of relief.

  I bow my head in silent prayer, thanking God for hearing my plea and sparing Elle and Brax. If only I could be certain that we’re in the clear now. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that this may only be the beginning.

  Frank ended up being a pretty cool dude. He was a bit standoffish at first, but he was soon chatting away to me like I was his long lost buddy. He shared stories of life on the road, doing long haul trips up to New York and back, and the sights he has seen. We also talked about being in the military as he was in the Army in his younger days.

  He dropped me off about half an hour ago on the outskirts of Charlotte, North Carolina. I pull my phone out, texting Devon.

  Brax: Got dropped off at Charlotte Douglas International. Can you come get me?

  I wait for a goo
d ten minutes before I get a reply.

  Devon: Hail a cab and meet me at the Time Warner Arena in the city. We’ll take off straight from there.

  Brax: What do you mean we?

  Devon: You didn’t think I was gonna let you go alone, did ya?

  Brax: I dunno, dude. I just wanna get there ASAP.

  Devon: I know. Who better than a petty crim with experience outrunning the police?

  Brax: Touché. See you in half an hour.

  Devon: More like fifteen. I’m starting the car now.

  I grab a cab from outside the terminal and soon enough I’m standing in the middle of Charlotte, outside the Cable Arena, waiting for Devon to pick me up.

  It’s been nine years since I last saw him; before the Army, and before my father got his hooks into him, effectively derailing his life. Devon was powerless to resist Evans. The pull of easy women, fast cash, and rising through the ranks was all too appealing. The fantasy was shattered when Devon was framed for money laundering and assault. I know three years inside will have changed him, but I won’t know how much until I see him in front of me. He’s always been a smart ass, though. Must be something in the Evans’ genes.

  I see a white Dodge Ram pickup truck pull up beside me, with a familiar scruffy man sitting behind the wheel. I throw my duffle bag over my shoulder and open the passenger door, sliding onto the beige vinyl seat and slamming the door closed behind me.

  “Hey, Brax. Long time no see,” he murmurs cautiously. I don’t blame the guy. I represent everything he wished he had the strength to do; go up against the might of Michael Evans.

  “You’re telling me, brother. Looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” I remark with a grin.

  I look him over. He’s got cloudy blue eyes, a couple of shades darker than mine, brown hair that sticks up at the top. It looks like he’s just had a woman’s hands running through it all night long. He has a smattering of stubble across his cheeks and top lip that makes him look rough around the edges. I’m sure that’s the look he’s going for, rugged and scary.

  Devon laughs. “Yeah, well it seems keeping on the straight and narrow can be just as lucrative. Working during a construction boom works just as well too.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for this,” I say mournfully. “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

  “Enough of the sappy shit. Let’s get on the road and get you back to your girl. What’s her name?” he says as he turns the wheel, pulling back out into the slowly building traffic.

  I check the clock on the dash and realize that it’s been five hours since Elle was shot. I haven’t heard from Shay again. I need to hear that she’s okay, or at least going to be.

  “Her name is Elle. From the West Coast originally, but is now going to school near New York,” I reply. “I was working a job, protecting her. Fat lot of good that did, considering I got conned into leaving her, then a week later she gets shot in her own bed.”

  “Shit, bro. Is she okay?”

  “Shay got there straight after it happened. Got the shooter too, but when he was checking on Elle he got away. Last I heard she was in the ER and was headed into surgery.” I know I’ve made many mistakes, but I want to make it right. I want to tell Elle everything, but I hope like hell she’ll forgive me for lying to her for so long.

  “You wanna use my cell to call Shay? Get an update? We’ve got at least twelve hours driving ahead of us if we don’t stop too much and switch driving. That’ll make it close to six pm when we get there,” he surmises.

  I grab the phone that he holds out to me. “Thanks, D. I’m still not sure if mine is being monitored, but I’ve already sent Shay some texts. Kind of had to.”

  He eyes me suspiciously. “By who?”

  “By Gibbons, my supervisor. The boss and I think he’s compromised.”

  Devon lets out a hissed breath through his teeth. “Shit, you don’t want that in a security op. What’s the boss doing about it?”

  “Tracking his movements, and looking for connections. He has a burner with him at all times that he never lets out of his sight apparently, but we’re hoping he’ll slip up so that we can put a tracker on it, too. We think he’s working for Harry Brimstone, a businessman from Los Angeles. He wants to take over Elle’s company, but she refused.”

  “Caught yourself a rich one then?” he asks, sounding surprised.

  “It’s not like I’m short of cash, D. My work has been very lucrative,” I retort, getting annoyed at his insinuation.

  “Damn, knew I should’ve looked you up,” he replies with a laugh. “I’m joking. Look, it’s all good. Why don’t you ring Shay and then catch some sleep? I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn to drive.” That sounds like a really great idea.

  I dial Shay’s number and wait for him to answer, my nerves now completely shot from worry and exhaustion.

  “Shay,” he answers.

  I clear my throat, trying to sound normal. “It’s me. Please tell me she’s okay.”

  “Devon’s phone I assume? I was starting to worry about you, man,” he says quietly.

  “I’m fine. Just desperate to see my girl. Is she out of surgery?”

  “Yeah, she’s okay, came out about half an hour ago. She’s in the ICU now. They had a bit of trouble stopping the bleeding, but they think she is going to be fine. She had a punctured lung and lost a lot of blood. They had to give her a blood transfusion in the OR,” he explains.

  I breathe out loudly. “Fuck, dude! How did this happen?”

  “I’ve been racking my brain, man. The guy must’ve already been in the building. I’ve been watching her like a hawk. I didn’t want to risk anything, especially not knowing what Gibbons is capable of. When the trip alarm on her front door pinged, I knew something was up. I got up there straight after she hung up from you, heard the gun shot from the foyer, and raced inside. I knocked the fucker out, but he escaped when I was checking on her.”

  “Who was it?” I ask.

  “No idea, but he was a professional. He had a ski mask on and was dressed in black, head to toe. He will definitely have a sore head this morning, though. His head met the kitchen wall. Hard.”

  “He wouldn’t have been breathing had I been there. You sure she’s going to be okay?”

  He’s silent for a moment. “Last report from the nurse said that barring complications, she’ll be fine, but it is going to take a while for her to recover. I’m so sorry, B. I should’ve gotten inside quicker.” He sounds gutted.

  “I don’t blame you, Shay. I’m just glad you got there when you did. Otherwise, I might’ve lost her.

  “Wouldn’t have let that happen.”

  “I know. We’re just leaving Charlotte, but I’ll text you in a few hours for another update, okay?” I say, signing off.

  “Sure thing, B. Drive safe.”

  I swallow down the lump forming in my throat. It wouldn’t be good form to break down in front of my older brother, so I clear my throat before I talk again. “Shay, thanks for looking after her for me.”

  He goes silent again. I know how hard this whole situation must be for him. “Was never gonna let anything happen to her. I’d do anything to keep you from going through the hell I went through.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I have to get to her.

  Could this drive take any longer? We’re about two hours away from Elle, and Devon has to stop to stretch his legs. I drove for a few hours, but Devon told me it was probably safer for him to drive, given that I can only think about Elle.

  “Dude, can we move it along?”

  “B, unless you want me to cramp up and crash into a ditch, you’ll give me five minutes to stretch my legs,” he snaps.

  “Sorry. I just need to see for myself that she is still alive and breathing. If Evans has anything to do with this, I will take pleasure in shooting him dead myself,” I say through gritted teeth.

  He looks over at me with sympathy as he walks back towards the driver
’s door. “You and me both, brother, but one thing at a time. Let’s get you to your girl, then go from there. We can deal with our dear old dad after that.”

  After three more hours of driving, we’re finally pulling up outside the hospital. I pull my phone out and text Shay.

  Brax: Where is she?

  Shay: Fourth Floor, northern wing. She’s sleeping right now, but I saw her a few hours ago, and she was okay.

  Brax: Where are you?

  Shay: Outside the elevator on the ground floor waiting for you.

  Brax: Roger that.

  Devon and I follow the signs and sure enough, there is Shay waiting outside the elevator for us. I give him a hug, quietly talking in his ear, “I’ll never be able to make this up to you, bro. You saved her.”

  He pulls away and looks at me. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

  “I know, and that means the world to me. I couldn’t see a tail outside, but could you take Devon and maybe case out the parking lot just to be sure. Everything is unpredictable right now, so I’d rather have Devon on board with us. The boss man has cleared it all too,” I explain, accepting Shay’s nod as his agreement.

  “Go see your girl, Brax. She needs you now more than ever,” he says before walking over to Devon and shaking his hand. “Let’s go, D. We can catch up while we’re walking.”

  I look over at Devon. “I’ll see you soon, brother. Stick with Shay. He’ll fill you in on everything. And thank you…….for everything.”

  “Sure thing,” he replies before turning and walking away with Shay.

  I step into the elevator, and the sterile, dry air surrounds me as the smell of antiseptic spray enters my lungs. It’s overwhelming; almost sickening.