by Debbie Civil
Chapter 20
I feel hollow inside. Will has caught up to me, and there’s nothing that I can do about it. I slowly sit up and see that he has a gun to the drag woman’s head.
“Stop it, Will,” I shriek. I don’t want to see anyone else die. This can’t happen.
“He hurt you, Chelsea. Anyone that hurts you needs to be punished.” I don’t think. Honestly, anyone who ever knew me would argue that I don’t always put two and two together. But I do in this instance. It’s instinctual. I launch myself at Will so hard that the three of us tumble to the ground. Will screams because he is on the bottom of the pile. He tried to catch himself, which means he’s let go of the gun. Luckily for me, Eli grabs it and looks at the handgun as if considering her options. Something nasty twists in my stomach. She can’t shoot Will. Not in front of all of these witnesses. I roll off of the drag queen and cut my arm on a shard of glass. The cut isn’t that deep, but tears still stream down my face. I’m such a baby. I rub at it furiously as blood drips down my right elbow. I curse. Seeing my blood won’t be good for will’s temper.
“Chelsea, he hurt you,” Will cries before shoving at the drag queen whose white eyed. So now the jack-hole realizes that my kidnapping is a true story. If it isn’t for the fact that Will’s here around everyone that I care about, I would point at him and say, “I told you so.” But I don’t. Instead, I frantically gaze the room, trying to find everyone. What I finally notice is that the beautifully carpeted floor is stained with a puddle of red. Someone has been hit. Will had shot out the store front with his gun. No, he had been trying to aim for someone. My heart pounds so hard that it hurts, and I seriously have no idea of who got injured. But I see red. I look up at my cousin, and her blue eyes are horrified. She’s seen what I have.
“Chelsea,” Peter calls through the mess. I hear shouting coming from outside. Someone has probably called the cops. It’s then that the drag queen realizes that he’s right on top of a murderer and should be running for the hills. Eli is probably waiting to take a clean shot at Will, and I’m pressing my hand to my cut. Who got hit with the bullet? What’s going on? I want to ask Eli, but she’s focused on the pile of drag queen and stalker guy in front of her. The jack-hole stands and turns to run. Will pulls out a kitchen knife from the waistband of his jeans and lunges at the idiot’s back. Eli lets out a scream and the gun fires. Blood sprays me in the face, and I instinctively slide backward and scrape myself on even more glass. The drag queen screams like a girl. Will sliced him in the side before he took a bullet in the shoulder. He drops the knife and claps a hand over his wound. Instead of grabbing the knife that he was stabbed with, the idiot in the poofy dress hobbles toward the door. I’m thinking of making a grab for it when Eli raises the gun again.
“Don’t shoot, Eli. He’s done,” a voice says. I peer up at Grace who’s pale and angry all at once. Eli nods.
“Carmen,” she cries. “He shot Carmen.”
“Chelsea, I need to be with you. These people stole you from me the first time. That’s why you ran away. I figured it out. If everyone you loved were gone, you would run away with me. I need you to come, Chelsea. Please baby come be with me. I love you! I love you! I…” Eli fires off another shot. It goes wild, and Grace Reaches for the gun but Eli shakes her head.
“He shot Carmen. He needs to die,” she insists. I am not in the mood to reason with her. Especially since Will is still a danger to us. He unclips a taser from his utility belt and fires it at Eli. She goes down and begins convulsing. Will lunges for the gun but I plant a hard kick to his injured shoulder. He shrieks and Grace snatches up the weapon and is smart enough to kick the Taser out of his hands. After that, the men in blue arrive, shouting for Will to put his hands up. He complies and the officers descend on him. I crawl over to Eli and brush her brown hair back from her face. She saved our lives, today.
“Is she all right?” a female officer asks.
“She’s been tasered,” I reply.
“And you?” I look down at my arm. It will probably leave a small scar.
“I got cut by some of the glass,” I reply. She nods and walks out of the store with Will and five other guys. I stare at Grace, who must have been relieved of the gun. In fact, none of the weapons litter the floor. She shakes her head.
“That creep kidnapped you?” she asks.
“I’m glad that the cops finally got him,” I say. Then, a beautiful girl in an EMT uniform is walking over to us. Her eyes are kind, and she inspects Eli, who is dazed and bleeding. When Will tasered her, she had convulsed on top of shards of glass. Some of the pieces are deep and needs stitches. Grace and I move out of the way so that a man wielding a stretcher can carry Eli away. I glance up over by the door just in time to see Carmen wheeled away. She’s alive. Her face is full of anger, and she looks agitated. That fills me up with relief. At least, I won’t have to go to her funeral. A third team of EMT’s come in and head to the area where the manikins use to be. He says something and a man comes in pushing another stretcher. Sweat stains the back of my neck and I watch, not having a good vantage point. Racks of clothing block my view. I finally get a glimpse of Rain being pushed out in a stretcher. Tears are streaming down her face, and her hands are bloody. I stare at her and see a huge blood stain on her upper leg.
“Rain,” I cry, but she doesn’t hear me. I try to run to her, but Grace wraps her arms around my waste.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “It’s a flesh wound. I was there when she got shot. Trust me. No one aside for the drag queen got seriously hurt.” I relax, and Grace lets me go. When the last of the injured have been cleared away. I look around to see where my purse is. Then, I realize that I’m still wearing it. Calmly, I fish out my wallet and hand the terrified looking clerk my debit card.
“The dresses?” he asks, surprised.
“Yes,” I respond. After I spend 22 thousand dollars, I take the card, slide it back into its compartment, slide my wallet in my beat-up purse, and grab Grace’s hand.
“I heard Peter out there,” I whisper.
“Me too. Let’s go see what’s going on.” We walk into chaos. The ambulances have left. The police are taping off the area. A woman wearing a designer outfit is yelling at the cops. She’s someone famous. But I can’t put my finger on her identity. Since most of the reporters are too busy hounding witnesses, we aren’t noticed yet. I can’t find Peter. Had Will gotten to him? I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have shouted for me otherwise. I’m beginning to sweat as we walk sideways, away from the Mary Masson boutique. We’re walking around the building, and I spot Peter and Jake talking. Jake is shaking, uncontrollably.
“It will be all right, Jake. Just come with me. We’ll know more at the hospital,” Peter says softly, filling my heart with relief. I can hear his tender voice talking to children someday. Peter will make a fine doctor. I’m just relieved that he has a chance.
“Where’s Chelsea?” Tiller asks. I’ve been so focused on Peter that I don’t realize that Tiller is also among them. “I hope Grace and my sister are all right.” Grace interrupts by releasing my hand sliding past Peter and wrapping Tiller in a hug. Well then. Jake and Peter look at me. Peter plucks me off the ground and cradles me to his chest like I’m a baby. I’m thinking that he’s going to kiss me. But his gentle eyes are filled with concern.
“There’s blood on you,” he says.
“Where?” Jake asks frantically. He rushes over to us and scans. He gently examines my cut arm.
“Will’s blood, mostly. Eli shot him.” Jake looks pleased by this news. But Peter is relieved.
“I’m just glad you didn’t have to,” he softly says.
“I want to go home,” I whine.
“You have to make a statement first,” a female voice says. I peer up at Tia, who is covered in blood. It’s even in her hair. I frown.
“All of it is Carmen’s blood,” she says. The girl begins to shake, and tears stream down her face. Jake walks over to her and places a gentle hand on he
r back and whispers something to her.
“I thought I lost you, again,” Peter whispers, his eyes going glassy.
“I thought I lost you two. As soon as I heard you calling for me, I panicked. I tackled the drag queen and…”
“Sssshhhhhhhh. None of that matters anymore, sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”
Two hours later, I’m in the limo. I want to go to the hospital to see Carmen. But Grandmother ordered Bob to take me back to the mansion. Evidently, Mom is freaking out. She needs to see her baby, now! I feel bad and comply with her. Peter and I are sitting side by side and Danny is beside me. Malcolm is stone faced across from us. These poor men had finished picking out their tuxedos and wanted to go out to lunch with us. What they got was total chaos.
“How are you feeling, Chelsea?” Peter asks me. But before I can even answer his question, we stop at a red light. Danny pulls off her engagement ring and hands it to me. To my surprise, she launches herself into Malcolm’s lap. Their lips collide and Peter winces. I shake my head at the disgusting display of affection. When the lovers come up for air, Danny is crying, and I can’t help myself.
“The kiss was that bad?” Peter tickles me, and I giggle. The pair of love birds don’t even bother glaring at me.
“Danny. I…”
“I’m so sorry, Malcolm. I… I… Love… You… I… Was… Going… To… Make… I was going to make a big mistake because I was trying to be practical. Grandpa will be disappointed, but I can’t be without you anymore. Not until I came so close to dying.” Oh, thank you Bob, you did something right, I think. He’s made it to the mansion. I don’t have to witness this awkward break down. Peter and I rush out and hurry toward the mansion steps. Dad is waiting for us in the foyer. I know that this is morbid. Truth be told, I have no idea why this even comes to mind. But this is the greeting I should have had two years ago after coming home from the hospital. I should have never jumped out of a moving limo. I only wasted my own time. Dad seems relieved to see Peter, which is a shock. He hasn’t so much as glanced in our direction over the last several days.
“Chelsea, I’m glad to see that you are okay.” His words are formal, but his blue eyes do show relief.
“I’m glad that they have Will,” I honestly say. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s in your room. She’s convinced that we all lied to her and that you are dead. The woman is crazy.” Peter and I move past my father and walk into the hallway that holds the elevator. We take it up to the third floor and walk into the hallway. Grandma is standing there, as if she is waiting for the elevator.
“I’m glad to see that you both are well, “the woman says before walking into the elevator.
“This family isn’t big on hugs,” I explain to Peter, who is confused. Had this been his family, we all would have been surrounded by joy, fellowship, and well wishes. But none of that holds true for the Philips family. When we walk into the room, Peter’s parents, my mother, and my uncle Justin are all sitting at the Round Table. My uncle Justin is the first to notice me. He stands and embraces both of us. I’m disappointed when I have to let go of Peter’s hands. One by one, everyone hugs us. My mother is last. Her hug is also the tightest.
“I’m glad the Lord has brought you guys safely back to us,” Mr. Jacobs says. The man is tall, muscular and has beautiful honey brown skin. Peter had explained that his father is African American and Italian. His Italian father was adopted from an orphanage in Italy, so that’s why Jacobs is the family name. I found that interesting. His mother is a beautiful Mexican woman who can’t cook for crap. They mostly eat at his Grandmother Lucinda’s house. Its fun trading facts with Peter. It’s refreshing.
“Without the Lord, I don’t think that I would have made it,” I say, and I actually mean it. I’m not super religious, yet. But my faith is slowly mending. After praying and having Gary show up, I thought that it was a sign that God is looking out for me. Peter and I had a conversation about this very thing.
“Why did God allow me to get kidnapped?” I ask him.
“Because we have free will. Some people choose to be good while others choose to be bad. God can’t force people to behave. But he can lend a helping hand to his children,” Peter answered. I find conversations like this inspiring. After everything that we have been through, Peter never stops believing. Someday, I hope that I’m able to be as good as a person as Peter. But if I never am, that’s okay because I know that I’m loved. But it’s good to aspire to be better.
“Are you hungry?” Mom asks us. Peter and I both say “yes.” Mrs. Jacobs’ smiles.
“Oh good. I can whip you up some Quesadillas,” she cheers.
“No!” we all shout in unison and she smiles.
“Welcome to the family, Chelsea,” the woman says before giving me a tighter hug. The door opens, and my father pokes in his head.
“Justin, you need to leave. My mother won’t tolerate your presence much longer.” Justin looks about ready to bolt. I’m not taking this anymore. I stand, walk over to the closet and pack an overnight bag. No one asks me any questions as I sling the bag over my shoulder and smirk.
“Uncle Justin, I’m going to the diner for dinner. Want to join me?” He looks uncertain. It’s apparent that no one has ever stuck up for him before. Because of him, Tiller and I will live better lives. He needs to be repaid.
“What’s the bag for, Chelsea?” my father asks, confused.
“I’m staying in Elmview, tonight. I…”
“Put the bag down,” Grandmother Orders. “Justin, you are more than welcome to stay.” I smirk, toss the bag back in the closet and wink at Peter. His look of approval makes me feel a hundred times better. But doing something nice for someone else is what lifts my spirits completely.
We end up ordering pizza and eating it in the main dining room. Everyone talks softly to one another. Peter and I aren’t participating in the conversation. I guess the memory of what happened in the store still weighs heavily on us. I for one can’t stop thinking of Eli, Carmen, and Rain. Danny and Malcolm come up for air and join us. It’s fortunate that Peter didn’t pick Dom as a groomsmen. Apparently, while I was gone, he was telling everyone that I ran away with Adam. The rest of them hadn’t believed that for a second. It’s nice to think that my cousins and friends think so highly of me. It hurts that my own parents thought that I skipped town even after I sent Carmen the text message. Grandma, my aunts and uncles all thought that I was in danger. They thought that Adam had taken me and would ransom me for money. Uncle Kenny was urging everyone to start preparing cash for the exchange. I feel bad that everyone thought so poorly of Adam. But he hadn’t done much good in his short life, and that bothers me so much that it hurts.
