by C. J. Anaya
“I think there were some Hollywood talent scouts here tonight. When you’re rich and famous don’t forget the little people who dressed you up and gave you gold stilettos,” Angie said. She gave me a satisfied smile and turned her attention to Victor.
I couldn’t help but give Tie a surreptitious glance as I took another bite of my burger. I’d thrown him off balance a bit, but I didn’t feel too guilty about it. I’d been off balance since the moment he’d waltzed into mythology.
“Tell me, Hope, was that song about someone in particular or have you had a lot of practice being dumped?” he asked. I was startled by his abrupt change in demeanor.
First he’s hinting at his interest in me, and now he’s getting nasty with me? What is his deal?
I did my best to hide the anger I felt with this unexpected verbal dig.
“You should stop talking, Tie,” Victor said in a tired voice. “No one has the energy to keep up with your tactless commentary.”
“Hope has never been dumped,” Angie defended.
“So she’s the one doing all the dumping, huh? Some things never change,” Tie said.
I had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t know me at all, but the way he sometimes interacted with me suggested this had all been done before.
“So Angie, how long have you and Hope been friends?” Victor interrupted.
“Since we were babies. My mom and her mom were pretty tight.”
“Your mothers aren’t tight anymore?”
Angie’s eyes turned to me. It was obvious she was regretting bringing my mom up as a conversational piece.
“My mom died when I was ten,” I stated bluntly. My small talk really needed some work.
There was an awkward silence that filled the space between us all. Not even Tie had a nasty comment to offer up. They both seemed taken aback by the sad news.
I found it interesting that this aspect of my life was a complete and total mystery to them. I mean, they’d gone to great lengths to determine who I was and what I could do. I’d just assumed they’d have some kind of file documenting the events in my life. Surely something as major as the death of a parent would have made it into that file.
Maybe I’d perceived them as more threatening than they really were and given them far more credit than they deserved.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Victor said sounding a bit embarrassed. “I’m also sorry for asking about it. I’m sure this is the last thing you want to talk about.” Victor gave Tie a very confused look.
“It’s okay,” I lied, feeling a little more exposed than I was used to. “It was a long time ago.”
“How did it happen?” Tie asked; his question more urgent than intrusive. I’d been waiting for more snide commentary or some tactless joke, but he looked like he was trying to put some pieces of a puzzle into place, something that had been eluding him for quite some time. He placed his hand on mine and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
“Tie, we should really change the subject,” Angie said showing some obvious remorse for having opened her big mouth.
She knew how touchy this subject was for me. I mean, I talked about it once with Angie right after it happened, and then I refused to talk about it any further, and she was the one I told everything to. Well, almost everything.
Tie ignored her and continued to stare at me. I surprised myself with the desire to finally talk about what really happened that night. Not even my own father knew everything I knew. He didn’t know I’d seen my mother’s killer.
Yet here, in this crowded café, with my best friend and two guys I’d met this morning, I was ready and willing to share a part of my history I’d refused to talk about for years. The noise of the café faded away into the background, and our tiny little booth in the corner felt like the most private, ideal location for soul bearing if there ever was one. I wasn’t sure if Tie’s mesmerizing gaze had created that illusion for me or if I was just so desperate to finally get everything off my chest that I’d created it for myself. Either way, I needed and wanted to talk about it.
“It happened on a Saturday,” I said. My voice caught in my throat, and I had to swallow and start again. I may have wanted to talk about it, but my voice felt weak and shaky. “It was my tenth birthday, and my mom was making my birthday cake. She always made my birthday cakes for me,” I smiled happily to myself. “There was a knock at the door, and she sent me to open it. A very old looking man was standing there in the entryway smiling down at me. He asked if he could see my parents.”
I swallowed hard as I tried to collect my thoughts. I looked up to see Angie staring at me. She seemed surprised by my willingness to talk about a subject I’d so studiously avoided all these years. She nodded at me to continue.
“My mom came to the door when she heard the older man’s voice. She recognized who he was and seemed a bit concerned, almost upset, but she didn’t act like she felt threatened by him in any way. She called for my dad to come downstairs, and then sent me to the neighbors to borrow some eggs. I was curious about the stranger, but figured I’d have time to ask my mom about it later. I was kind of focused on my birthday cake.” I shook my head, wishing I’d paid more attention to the dynamics of the situation. “I was only gone a few minutes, and when I came back, the man was still standing at the front door. I couldn’t understand why my mom hadn’t invited him in. When I walked past him I saw her lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood with my dad hovering over her. He was on the phone with a 911 operator and had his hands over her chest trying to stop the bleeding. I guess while I’d been gone, the stranger had pulled out a gun and shot her right there in the doorway.”
I heard Angie gasp, but I continued on, afraid if I stopped I’d never be able to start again.
“My mom didn’t die right away. I was on the floor next to her trying to help my dad stop the bleeding, and that man was still standing in the doorway. He wasn’t looking at my mother, though, he was looking at me. You’d think after shooting someone in the chest you’d want to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible, but he just stood there totally unconcerned, like he was waiting for something.”
“Hope, you never told me you saw the guy who shot your mom,” Angie said horrified. “Did you tell that to the police?”
“No,” I said flatly.
“Why in the world would you keep that to yourself?”
I hesitated, not sure how to respond to her question.
“She was the only one who could see him,” said Tie. “He was standing right there in the doorway, but your dad never noticed. He didn’t even see her get shot. Isn’t that right, Hope?” I stared at him suspiciously.
“How on earth could you know something like that?” I demanded.
“You said your mom recognized the man who shot her,” Victor said. “Did she ever say his name?”
“No. She just mumbled something funny before she passed away.”
Their interest in this story was beginning to make me nervous. I had this awful feeling that they knew more about my mom’s murder than I did.
“What did she say?” Tie asked insistently.
“Hachiman,” I replied. “She said Hachiman.”
Victor sucked in his breath sharply.
“Not a chance. There’s no way he would’ve done that to Hope’s mother,” Victor hissed turning to his cousin.
“I’m not an idiot. I know he wouldn’t do that,” Tie responded. “Clearly they’ve known about Hope much longer than we have. The question is, why did they leave Hope alive if they knew who she was?”
“Wait, what are you guys talking about? Is Hachiman an actual person?” I asked.
“How could you two possibly know anything about her mother or her mother’s murderer, and what do you mean they knew about Hope?” Angie asked.
Her tone suggested she felt as nervous about this situation as I did. I looked at her from across the table and watched her slide slowly away from Victor’s side. She shot her eyes toward th
e entrance to the restaurant and back to me. Her signals were coming in loud and clear, but I had no intention of leaving until I got more answers.
“Hope, you said the man was waiting at the door. He didn’t take off right away. How long did he stay there?” Victor asked.
“He left the moment my mother’s heart stopped beating,” I said.
My response seemed to support whatever conclusions Tie and Victor had come to.
“They weren’t sure then,” Tie said. “When she failed to heal her mother, the assassin assumed he had the wrong girl.”
“When she failed to heal her mother? What are you guys talking about?” Angie asked.
The word ‘failed’ rang loudly in my ears. I’d never been able to understand why I’d failed to save my mom. I could remember rushing to her side and seeing relief sweep over my father’s face when he realized I was there. He thought everything would be okay. He’d firmly believed I would save my mom and heal the wound. I’d connected to her and assessed the damage in a matter of seconds. Healing her should have been simple. She wasn’t supposed to die, and I knew I’d be able to save her, but as I began willing blood vessels and tissues to knit back together, I felt her life force slip quickly from my mind.
Then nothing.
I couldn’t connect to anything, and her body was completely unresponsive. I remembered trying over and over again to make some kind of connection with her. It was unthinkable to me that she’d slipped from my grasp. It was almost as if she’d retreated from me on purpose.
“We need to get them out of here and get Hope somewhere safe. Our interest in her has clearly drawn the assassin’s attention,” Victor said.
Tie stood, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to my feet. He threw some money on the table and pushed me out of the booth.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
“We’re leaving,” Tie stated.
“Absolutely not,” Angie replied. “This date is beginning to remind me of every slasher movie I’ve ever had the stupidity to sit through.
“Angie, you need to lead us to your car,” Victor said. He turned to Tie. “I wish this could’ve been avoided, but we’re taking Hope back with us now. She should have been found the moment her mother was murdered.”
I instinctively stepped closer to Tie.
“We didn‘t know, Victor. How could we have known?” Tie said.
“I’ll be taking charge of Hope now. She’s my responsibility, after all, and you can follow up behind us.”
“We still don’t know who she belongs to.”
Victor barely contained his rage as he said, “Regardless of what you did in the past, whether it’s still relevant or not, you know the prophecy as well as I do. She belongs to me.”
Victor held out his hand waiting for Tie to comply with his orders. Tie’s reluctance was obvious, but the anger and defiance that flitted across his features were soon overpowered by a depressing look of defeat. It seemed like up until this moment Victor had been patient with Tie’s antics and digging comments, but now it was time for Victor to pull rank, and Tie knew he was expected to fall in line.
The smart thing to do would have been to grab Angie and make a mad dash to her car without our male companions. We had no reason to trust these guys, and all of their cryptic remarks concerning the events surrounding my mother’s death made it seem like they were involved in it somehow.
I couldn’t move though. Not when Tie was standing so close to me. Not when all I wanted to do was lean into him and let his warmth spread through every inch of my body. I didn’t know if he was good for me or bad, and I didn’t care. I needed him, and that need kept my feet firmly planted next to his.
My realization shocked the hell out of me. I wondered if the thought of being handed over to Victor had given me a reason to consciously acknowledge what my subconscious had already decided.
“You promised you wouldn’t get in the way, and when the time came you’d help fix the mess you made. Are you going to help me fix this, or is it time for you to leave?” Victor’s voice was uncharacteristically cold.
Tie took my hand in his and slowly offered it to Victor, who acknowledged him with a grateful look and then wrapped his own hand around mine. It was a very strange moment for me. It felt like Tie was reluctantly allowing Victor to take my hand in marriage. It had a final and binding feel to it. I looked to Tie, feeling betrayed. I didn’t want to be handed over. If I was going to be anyone’s responsibility I wanted to be his.
“Let’s go,” Victor said, motioning for Angie to lead the way.
Angie was rarely caught off balance in any kind of social situation, but I could tell she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do. Her eyes pleaded with mine for some kind of hint as to what she should do.
“It’s okay. I think we need to trust these guys.” I was surprised by how right that felt.
Angie glanced at my hand entwined in Victor’s. A flash of confusion crossed her features before she turned around and headed for the exit.
Outside, the frosty night air immediately penetrated my clothing. I looked around the quiet parking lot, my unease escalating with every step we took. I shivered, not necessarily from the cold air clawing at me, but from the increasing certainty I felt that someone was watching our little party as we walked the short distance from the café to the PT.
Angie pulled out the keys from her purse. They made a soft tinkling noise that amplified in the dense quiet of the parking lot. Tie’s footsteps quickened, and Victor wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder, hurrying me along.
Then all hell broke loose.
Tie ran up behind us shouting something to Victor while diving toward Angie, tackling her to the gravelly floor. I didn’t have time to form a single question before Victor yanked me to the ground, covering my body with his. A fireball flew directly over us and pummeled into Angie’s car, causing it to roll backward before crashing into a pick-up truck.
“Are you okay?” Victor asked in a panic.
I couldn’t answer. I was too busy spitting gravel out of my mouth. Honestly, I was just glad I hadn’t been the only one to see bright balls of fire being launched out of nowhere.
“Tie?” Victor shouted in concern.
“We’re good,” he yelled back, “but we need to get out of here before he’s able to work up another fireball.”
“Agreed. Follow me.”
Victor swept me up in his arms and ran without seeming the least bit affected by how much I weighed. I was pretty sure Tie and Angie were following right behind us, but I felt an enormous sense of relief when I heard Angie screaming, “Tie, put me down. I’ve gotta go back and find out who torched my car!”
“That purple monstrosity? Someone just did you a favor, Angie. Besides, what would you do if you actually found the culprit?” Tie shouted.
“I’d kill him slowly with the pointy tips of my fingernails,” she screeched.
Victor’s pace picked up more speed, something I didn’t think was possible. I wasn’t sure where he intended to go until I saw the lighted walls of the high school in the distance. I couldn’t believe we’d reached it so fast. It was a good two miles from the café. It wasn’t humanly possible for us to have arrived at the school as fast as we did. We were almost to the front steps when I looked to my left and saw movement from across the street.
“Victor! Down,” Tie yelled.
I shut my eyes and held tight to Victor as he dove on his side with me cradled in his arms. The school’s immaculate lawn erupted into flame a few feet behind us and to the left. I looked for Tie and Angie. They’d landed to our right. Victor shot up fast, still managing to carry me, and broke through the front doors with an insane amount of force. Looking back, I saw the front doors barely hanging on their hinges. Tie stepped through them with Angie thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
She still yelled at him to put her down.
We rounded a corner of the hallway and waited for Tie and Angie to catch
up.
“Where to now, oh fearless leader?” Tie asked.
It amazed me that in a life or death situation he was still capable of achieving such a mocking attitude.
Victor ignored him and continued forward, racing toward the end of the hall and turning left. I knew where he was headed now, but I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t see how the cafeteria would provide the kind of cover we needed. I heard a loud whooshing noise as Victor threw us both against the wall. Another fireball went sailing down the hallway and crashed into some lockers. We moved forward a few feet then took a left, rushing through the doors of the cafeteria. I really hoped we weren’t going to hide in there. In my mind, a high school kitchen in the middle of the night was the perfect setting for a mass murder.
The kitchen was exactly where Victor went.
“Are these ovens gas or electric?” he asked, setting me down next to him.
“Are you serious? I have no idea.” All I could think about was when the next fireball was going to hit.
He didn’t seem to be listening to me, though. Tie still held Angie over his shoulder while she continued to squawk.
“Electric,” Victor muttered. “That’s not gonna work.”
“Burning it wouldn’t have killed it, Vicky”
“It would have slowed it down.”
“Guys, shut up and listen,” Angie shouted, smacking Tie on the back to emphasize the urgency in her tone. “Do you hear that?”
The immediate silence that followed was deafening. Then… Click click. Click click.
The sound originated directly above us.
“What was that?” she asked.
Click click. Click click.
I had no idea what it was, but it sounded horrifically familiar. I looked up at the ceiling and waited for the sound to come again.
Click cl…