by J. A. Howell
Trey knelt down, peering under her bed and found a gun next to its safe that still lay open. He grabbed the gun, loading the magazine full of bullets before tucking it in the back of his jeans. There was no doubt in his mind that they had been here. They had taken her. Just as Trey was standing back up, his eyes fell upon a note that was left on her window sill, sprinkled with fresh drips of blood. As he moved closer to it, he could see a message hastily scrawled upon it.
Time to pay your brother a visit.
***
A sudden jarring awoke Dillan to a dark, uncomfortable confinement. The low rumbling of a car engine was her only clue as to where she was. Her face throbbed in pain where the man had struck her, only growing with each slight motion the car made. She went to lift her hands in protection, only to find they were bound together.
Tears threatened to surface as she found that she was completely and utterly helpless. Lying in a trunk injured and contemplating her fate, there was no question that the man driving this car was the same man that had killed Jamie. If so, she knew where her fate would lie. So many times she had silently wished the man would come back and send her to Jamie. Now that it seemed imminent that he was doing just that, she knew that this was not how she wanted to reunite with him.
Her mind wandered to Trey then. They were obviously back to correct the error they had made last year. As angry as she was with him, she knew that he did not deserve this fate either.
Dillan’s muffled sobs went unheard as the car drowned her out. She did not want things to end this way… but she couldn’t stop it. She would only be left to watch this scene play out in all its horror.
A few minutes later, the car came to a halt and the engine turned off. She strained to hear footsteps coming toward her. A second later, the trunk was opened and she was face to face with Jamie’s killer. Her body was no longer filled with fear as she stared into his eyes. She only felt rage. Rage for what he had done to Jamie… and what he had done to her life with Jamie. She knew that she was no match for him, especially in her current state, and it was only that which made tears sting her eyes. He cruelly sneered at her for a brief moment before roughly pulling her from the trunk and placing her unsteadily onto her feet.
“Run or scream and your brains will cover the ground in front of you.” He whispered sharply into her ear, as he pressed his gun against the small of her back. She obeyed, walking forward as it became clear to her where they were headed. The familiar path she had taken many times through the cemetery to pay Jamie a visit would now be the last steps she would take. As they neared his grave, she could see another man with a slicked back pony-tail and scraggly features waiting for them. He smiled, bearing a mouth full of decaying and gold-capped teeth as he leaned a lanky arm on the shovel that was stuck in the ground… next to Jamie’s open grave.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Trey's heart was pounding as he raced toward the cemetery. In a crazed state of fury, he twisted the accelerator on Dillan's motorcycle as traffic moved past him in a blur. He would be damned if they were going to hurt Dillan. The De La Rochas had killed everyone else he had ever cared about in an attempt to get him, but this would end tonight. If they wanted him, they could have him, but they would not hurt Dillan.
He could see the cemetery coming into view as he turned down Mercy Boulevard, his eyes scanning the street for any sign of them. As he pulled into the parking lot, he saw a black sedan parked by the cemetery entrance. As it was the only other vehicle there at such a late hour, he knew it could not be anyone else. Trey climbed off the motorcycle, his eyes adjusting to the dimly lit cemetery as he made his way down the cobblestone path to Jamie's final resting place. He reached his hand back, ensuring that Dillan's gun was still safely tucked into the back of his jeans, and sliding the safety off but not yet pulling it out.
He could scarcely make out two figures standing by Jamie's grave, and could feel a pair of eyes watching him as he drew closer. He could hear Dillan sniffling and saw her figure kneeled down in the grass, a gun pressed to the back of her head. Her eyes glanced up as he walked toward the grave, a helpless whimper barely escaping her lips. The pained look in her eyes stung more than any bullet could, but it helped him find resolve in what he needed to do.
“Alex... my hasn’t it been a long time? Oh...excuse me...what was it...Trey now?” The man behind Dillan spoke, his eyes narrowing at Trey. “You do recognize me don't you?” His lips curled into a cruel smile, raising deep cracks in his gristled face.
“Yes Carlos...” Trey replied. Of course he recognized him, in fact he had seen him many times, along with his brother. The De La Rocha brothers, second only to their father, had handled much of the cartel's affairs.
“Oh good...then surely you remember my brother, Julio?”
“What about him?”
“Well Trey, thanks to your little deal with the DEA, he is dead. Your fucking mouth is responsible for not only a large dent in our business, but Julio getting gunned down by fucking pigs. At first, of course we were pissed that you talked, and did what we do to any snitch...but then I had to watch my brother die. When a nice little birdie told me you were still alive, I thought it only appropriate I correct that.”
“So... if you wanted an eye for an eye...you've already killed my mother and my brother. Why bring her into this? Why come back after me?” Trey's voice rose as he questioned him. Carlos only laughed.
“Well, obviously I’d gotten bad info. I thought he was you...but yes it was a bit poetic to find out that I happened to kill your brother too. Still, I don't think you suffered enough for all the trouble you have caused my family.”
“Well, then you have me...there is no need to involve her in this.” Trey's eyes narrowed at him as he motioned to Dillan.
“Let her go, and kill me...she has done nothing to you.” Dillan's eyes grew wide as the weight of his words crashed down on her.
“Trey no!” she cried out before Carlos pistol-whipped her on the side of her face, knocking her to the ground. Trey fought the urge to pull out his gun and throw himself at Carlos right then. Dillan’s life hung precariously in the balance, depending on his next actions.
“Do you really think that is what’s going to happen? That I would just let her go and put you out of your misery?” Carlos scowled at Trey, pressing the gun harder against Dillan's head. “No... That’s not what’s going to happen here... Why would I let you die like some sort of hero? You’re going to stand right there and watch as I blow her brains out... so I can see the look on your face as someone else you care about dies because of you. Then... my friend and I are going to beat your skull in with that shovel and stuff you in the grave with your brother....where you should have been when I sunk two slugs into him last year.”
“Please...just let her go...” Trey pleaded once more, knowing it was probably in vain. This was not a man that would reason with anyone, especially not him.
“Fuck you Alex, take one last look in her eyes because it’s the last time you will see them!” Carlos grinned, roughly yanking Dillan’s hair and forcing her to look up toward Trey.
Dillan's eyes were wide with fear as they searched Trey's. He looked fearful, but there was a strange boldness in his eyes that she did not understand, given the dire situation they were currently in. But she didn't have time to dwell. As she heard the gun being cocked behind her head, she knew this was it. Her eyes squeezed shut and her body tensed up as she prepared for the inevitable.
Then came the shot...but she felt nothing.
“Dillan, run!” Trey's voice cut through her panic as another shot immediately rang out. The bullet pierced Trey’s shoulder and he winced in pain, his hand still gripping the gun. At the same time, Carlos stumbled back behind her, clutching his bloodied wrist where Trey had shot him. In a complete state of panic, all she could do was obey Trey's words, though she didn’t want to leave him behind. Dillan managed to scramble to her feet as she heard another shot fired, and this time the scraggly man that had shot a
t Trey’s shoulder cried out before slumping to the ground.
Trey didn't have time to think about the pain circulating through his shoulder as Dillan made a run for it. It was time to finish what he had originally set out to do. Just as he turned his attention back to Carlos, he lunged at Trey with his gun raised.
Dillan stumbled forward, hiding behind a tree. She wanted to keep running, but she couldn’t. She could not leave Trey behind like this and let him die. As she turned back toward the men, Dillan could see Trey and Carlos struggling. She braced herself, tensing her muscles as she ran toward them. She could see the shovel still stuck in the ground near the open grave. If she could just get to it, she could help Trey. But everything happened in an instant. It was like watching Jamie’s murder all over again. In one quick motion, Carlos had managed to knock the gun from Trey’s hand before pressing his own against Trey’s abdomen. Dillan froze in horror as two more shots rang out. For a brief moment, Trey’s eyes met hers, his gaze widening with shock.
I’m too late. Again.
Trey’s body lurched backwards as his eyes lost hers, his legs staggering before he lost his footing, falling back into Jamie’s grave. She winced as his body connected with the ground in a sickening crunch. Carlos leaned over the grave with his back to Dillan. Maybe he hadn’t killed Trey, but he was about to make sure he did. Either way, she had her chance, and she was taking it. Before she could think about the risk, she bolted across the last couple of yards towards the shovel.
She yanked it from the ground with her still-bound hands and swung it toward Carlos’s head as hard as she could. Blood spewed from his mouth as he slumped onto his side.
“Trey?” Dillan fell to the ground by the grave, searching for any sign that he was still alive. “Trey, please say something!” She could faintly make out his legs lying motionless in the dark grave.
Please Trey…please be okay.
There was no reaction from him as she sat there, staring into the dark, focusing on Trey. She couldn’t look away, the voice in her head screaming for him to move. It wasn’t until the gun in Carlos’ unsteady hand lifted up towards her that she even realized he was coming to. Dillan only had seconds to react. She managed to swing around, and the gun Trey had used was just within her reach.
I’m not going to miss this time.
Her eyes stared coldly at Carlos as he sneered at her, blood still dripping from his mouth. Without hesitation she squeezed the trigger. But so did Carlos. A bullet tore through Dillan’s flesh and she cried out in pain. The gun dropped from her hands and she felt herself falling. Her body slammed against the top of the casket and she could feel one of her ribs give way with a snap as she landed beside Trey’s limp form. The impact caused her to see stars, a fresh gash stinging on the back of her head. Carlos had gotten her; she could feel the warm blood seeping from her side. He had gotten her.
However, as she lay there, Dillan’s lips curled into a smile, because she hadn’t missed. She had shot him right between the eyes. As she started to lose consciousness, this was her only comfort. Her world was quickly becoming blurry, but she fought to stay awake. Her eyes glanced over at Trey. In the darkness, she could see that his eyes were closed. He looked peaceful, as if he was only sleeping. Maybe she could finally find some rest too.
Dillan let go then, her eyes staring up at the willow tree that billowed above her. It danced in the shadows, lulling her down into the darkness as she finally let it overtake her
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dillan breathed a sigh of relief as her doctor and nurse left the room. Her doctor was about to submit discharge orders for her. Finally she would be free from this place. She couldn't stand hospitals, let alone staying in one for nearly a week. It left her with too much time to dwell on the events that had occurred. Though she did not want to think about what had happened, Dillan had been constantly grilled with questions regarding the shooting in the cemetery during the last several days. It was tiresome, and she did not want to keep repeating her story to people over and over. This made it impossible not to think about everything, not to replay that night in her head.
She had not seen or heard from Trey since that night. She only knew that he was still recovering. They had asked if she wanted to be taken to see him, but she found that she could not face him. Her head and her heart were still mixed up over everything that had happened. While Trey had in fact laid his life on the line to save hers, something she would forever be thankful for, it was his deception that caused her to be put into such a dire situation in the first place. He had still lied about who he was. He had still used her, and let her feel like the guilty one when in reality he was not being honest with her.
There was no denying that something could have eventually developed between them, but it was tainted with lies, no matter how she looked at it. Her heart ached...but for whom? She truly did not know anymore. The more that her mind tried to process these feelings, the more twisted and confused it felt. As the nurse walked back in with the discharge papers in hand, Dillan wondered whether or not she should stop and see Trey before leaving the hospital. In the end, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
At this point it was easier to not feel anything, and she knew if she walked into that room, then her feelings would only become more muddled. She would feel bad for him, and possibly want to forgive him. Right now, she just couldn't handle that. There was too much she needed to sort out. For now, simply knowing he was not dead would have to suffice.
Dillan took the clipboard from the nurse and scrawled her signature on the form after skimming through her discharge instructions. The nurse left for a moment and returned with her copy of the discharge papers, a pair of scrubs, and a wheelchair.
Unfortunately, her blood soaked clothes had been taken as evidence. These worn gray hospital scrubs would have to do for now. She went into the bathroom and carefully changed from the hospital gown to the murky colored scrubs. Dillan’s side was still tender from the bullet wound and a broken rib, her movements slow as she managed to get the top over her head with minimal pain flaring up. She looked at herself in the mirror with discontent. There was still purple and yellow bruising around one of her cheeks as well as a large cut above one of her eyebrows. Her hair looked dirty and flat, and she looked like she had not slept well in days. She hadn't. She was unsure as to whether or not she would be able to sleep when she returned to her apartment. Even with Carlos dead, the thought of staying there alone still frightened her. The vision of Carlos breaking through the door still replayed in her dreams, or rather, her nightmares.
Knowing she would probably be released today, Dillan had already called Kay to come stay the night, but at the same time she just wanted to be left alone. She didn't want to assure people that she was fine or endure any sympathy from her friend. She was not fine and hadn't been fine for quite a while now, but she was surviving. She did not want sympathy, because it would never change anything that had occurred over the last year. It would not take away the things Dillan had witnessed or felt.
With a shrug, Dillan looked away from her reflection as she turned on the faucet. She splashed her face with some cool water and slicked her hair back into a ponytail, fastening it with a rubber band. She was ready to leave. Dillan returned to the nurse who was waiting patiently behind the wheelchair she had brought for Dillan. She feigned a small smile before sitting down in the wheelchair, and the nurse wheeled her out of the room and down the hall toward the elevators. Dillan kept her eyes on the elevator doors at the end of the hall, anxious to get out of there.
“Your friend is right in this room, I thought you might want to see him before you leave.” The nurse suggested as she slowed down right outside Trey's hospital room. His room just happened to be only a few doors down the hallway from hers. Dillan wanted to scream at the nurse, but knew she could not have known any better. The nurse had not been witness to all that had occurred between her and Trey, and she couldn't have overheard Dillan's own quarrels with herself that
had been going on in her head ever since she woke up in a hospital bed. Dillan kept her eyes forward, not daring to look into his room, the slow beeps of machines calling out at her. Her chest ached, only seeming to magnify the pain her body already felt.
“No, please just get me out of here.” Dillan barely managed to get out, holding her breath and biting her bottom lip as the discomfort grew. The nurse took her cue and without another word, wheeled her to the elevators. When the doors shut, Dillan watched the numbers descend, letting out a deep breath when the number one finally lit up.
As the nurse wheeled her outside the entrance of the hospital, Dillan felt a slight calm wash over her. She lifted herself out of the wheelchair carefully, and climbed into the waiting cab that the front desk had arranged for her. Dillan thanked the nurse and gave her a small wave before shutting the cab door, sighing in relief as it took her away.
“Sandstone Boulevard, please.” She instructed the driver before laying her head back on the seat. She was glad that this fiasco was finally drawing to a close. She was ready to move on and slowly forget that any of it ever happened. She needed to try to start over. As her building drew closer, she knew that starting over meant leaving their apartment as well. If she didn’t leave, this place would slowly become more and more of a prison with each day that passed.
This place had borne witness to all of her fears of forgetting Jamie, of trying to find life, and happiness, after his passing. It had been only the two of them for so long, she wasn't even sure she could let go and live again, but she had to try. She was not even thirty yet, she could not live the rest of her life in mourning and fear. There was far too much left of her life to allow it to be squandered that way.