by Jenna Jacob
“No!” I sobbed “Please Mika, no.”
He was seeing Vanessa. It could only mean she had come to take him away.
“No!” I screamed in a panic. “You can’t have him. You promised, goddammit. You can’t have him. He’s mine.”
I was yelling at the ghost of my dreams, fighting an invisible phantom for his life, his love. Deep inside I knew his heart didn’t belong to me. He wasn’t mine and never would be. Every fiber of his being belonged to her. She was the one who would forever hold his heart and soul. The only one he would ever love. Ever dominate. Ever cherish, in this life or the next.
A mournful wail echoed through the night as I sobbed, knowing what I had to do, yet unsure I could find the strength to do it.
“I’m sorry, Mika. I’m so sorry it can’t be me. But oh God, how I wanted you to want me.” Screaming through my sobs, I looked down at his lifeless face.
“Go to her, Mika. Go to Vanessa. She’s your ‘one.’ Your only one. She’s the one you’ve been waiting for. Soar with her to the heavens and be free from all the pain you carry in your heart.”
There was nothing on this earthly plain of value that I could offer him. Only Vanessa could grant his freedom, freedom from the chains encasing his heart. I was powerless to stop the inevitable no matter how desperately I wanted to try.
“Go with her, Mika. Find your peace.” Blood oozed between my fingers as I attempted to keep him tethered to this life even as I coaxed to set him free. “Oh, God. I can’t do this. What am I going to do without you now, Mika?”
Screeching sirens blared as numerous police cars careened into the parking lot. Keeping my hand pressed firm against his chest, I prayed against the cold uncertainty filling my soul that I could somehow save him. It was a selfish notion I had no right to own, yet I couldn’t stop myself from trying.
I heard voices. Shouts. But the words weren’t connecting with my brain. Strong arms lifted me from the ground as two men in crisp white shirts converged over Mika’s lifeless body.
“Shhh...This way ma’am. Let the paramedics do their job.” A man’s low, soft voice finally permeated my frightened haze as I was led away from Mika. I looked up and was met by brown eyes filled with warmth and concern staring back at me.
“Is he dead?” I cried, filled with fear.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Let them work on him and get him to the hospital. They’ll do all they can, but we need to stay out of their way. What’s your name? Is he a friend of yours? What’s his name?”
The officer’s questions were measured, and when I didn’t respond, he would simply ask something different. “Do you know the other man over there?”
He pointed toward Dennis’s dead body. I knew Dennis was dead. I saw the bullet pierce his forehead as he fell back.
Finally, the officer’s questions filtered through the numbness, and I nodded. “I’m Julianna Garrett. Yes. He’s my friend. His name is Mika LaBrache.”
“Do you know the other man?”
“No,” I lied.
“Did they have an argument? Was there a fight or something?”
Unsure what to say or how much information I should reveal, I shivered uncontrollably. “I need Moses.”
“Who is Moses?”
“A friend,” I whispered, choking back a sob.
“Here.” The officer slid a cell phone into my hand. “Can you call him or do you need me to?”
“I can.” I sniffed, watching the paramedics work in frantic but adept choreography over Mika’s body. Clear ropes of tubing had been embedded into both his thick, corded arms. They were talking loudly to one another with a frightening tone of urgency in their voices.
The officer stepped away as I called Moses. Somehow between my blubbering sobs I was able to tell him that Mika had been shot.
“Don’t say a word. Don’t say anything to the cops. Nothing. I’m on my way. If Master George gets there before I do, let him handle things. Just, please Julianna, don’t say anything. Do you understand?” His tone was stern and adamant.
“George? Why would he be coming here?” I asked in confusion.
“He’s a judge, and Mika’s legal adviser,” Moses confided. “Just don’t answer the cop’s questions, honey. I’m on my way.”
“Hurry.” I begged and ended the call. The officer reappeared, and I handed him back the phone.
“Did the other man and your friend Mika have a fight?” the officer pressed.
“I can’t think right now. Give me a minute,” I stalled, wishing Moses would appear like a genie from a bottle. “Can you please ask someone if he’s alive?”
I was unable to look away from Mika’s unresponsive body. The paramedics lifted him onto a gurney as the officer nodded and stepped away. Nervously scanning the parking lot, I wrung my bloodied hands, whispering for Moses to hurry.
The officer returned. “Yes...he’s alive, but he’s very unstable. They’re transporting him to St. Agnes. I need you to stay here with me to answer some questions. I need to get a statement from you, ma’am. Were you a witness to the shootings?”
“I need to go with him,” I cried as I rushed toward the gurney rolling toward the ambulance. The officer caught my shoulder with a firm grip, holding me back.
“We’ll get you to the hospital in a cruiser just as soon as we can,” he explained in a calm voice.
I numbly watched the ambulance scream down the street as more headlights flashed across the parking lot.
“Julianna!” Master George yelled over the commotion, pushing his way past the officers. He gripped me in a tight hold, oblivious of the blood covering my flimsy silk gown. “Is he...?”
“He’s still alive, but he’s unconscious. They said he’s very unstable. They’re taking him to St. Agnes.” Thankful to have George’s familiar presence sheltering me, I exhaled a deep sigh.
“What have you told the police?” he whispered in my ear, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my trembling, blood-stained body.
Resting my head against his neck, needing to feel the warmth and reassurance of a friend, I whispered in his ear. “Just mine and Mika’s names. I lied when the officer asked if I knew Dennis. He asked me more questions, but I didn’t answer any of them.”
“Good girl,” he praised. “Come. Sit down with me on the steps. I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”
I began retelling the horrific details to George as more uniformed officers and men in suits descended upon the scene. A tall, middle-aged man wearing a dark suit walked up as we huddled on the stairs.
“Your Honor.” The man in the suit extended his hand.
“Patrick. Good to see you, my man.” A grim smile formed on George’s lips as he shook the suited man’s hand. “This is my friend, Julianna Garrett. Julianna, this is Detective Patrick Daniels.”
Flashing a nervous glance at George, I slightly nodded to the detective.
“Julianna witnessed the shooting. I’m sure you’ll find it’s a clear case of self-defense, but of course you’ll make that determination.”
“Ms. Garrett.” The detective smiled a somber greeting. “We need to get a statement from you, but I’d like to do that at the hospital. It will be safer.” The detective turned back to George wearing a grave expression. “I think you should take her there now. It won’t be long before the media shows up. I’m surprised they’re not already swarming.”
“I understand. We’ll meet you at St. Agnes.”
George wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me from the stairs just as Moses came rushing through the crowd with Trevor at his side. Horror reflected in their wide eyes as they looked at my blood-soaked gown.
“Are you hurt?” Drake gasped, running a burly hand over my stomach. I shook my head no and broke down. Mournful sobs shook my body as I clung to him.
“Moses. We need to get her out of here, now,” George informed Drake in a low whisper as he started leading us toward the edge of the parking lot. “Take her to St.
Agnes. I’ll be there shortly with a friend of mine, Detective Daniels. But right now he wants her out of here, before the media shows up.”
Without a word, Moses scooped me into his arms and ran past the milling police officers straight to his car. He slid me into the front seat. Trevor jumped in the back and had his seatbelt engaged before Moses opened the driver’s door.
“We’re going to stop by your house before we head to St. Agnes. I want you to get cleaned up, but do it fast, do you understand?” Glancing from the road, he looked at me. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“No. It’s Mika’s blood. There was so much blood.” I sobbed as I told the details of the shooting to Drake and Trevor. “I’m scared to death he’s going to die.”
Moses careened onto the main road, heading north towards my house.
I inhaled a deep breath, trying to decide if I should tell Drake the rest. Of course I needed to tell him. Mika was like a brother. “He called out to Vanessa. I think she was there. I think she came for him.”
“Aw, fuck!” Moses cursed on a mournful groan. Unhooking his cell phone from its holder, he passed it to Trevor in the backseat. “Call Emile, baby.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trevor’s face was etched with fear as he dialed the phone then handed it back to Moses.
“Emile. I don’t have a lot of details to give you right now, but Mika has been shot. He was shot in the chest outside the club a few minutes ago. They’ve taken him to St. Agnes, and I’m on my way there now. I will arrange to have Trevor pick you up from the airport. I’ll call you when I get to the hospital and give you an update on his condition.” There was a short pause. “I will and hang in there. I’ll call you shortly.”
“Was that his father?”
Moses nodded, sliding his phone back in its pouch. “I need you to really hurry when we get to your house.”
“I know. I’m just going to wash my hands and change clothes. I don’t even want to go home. I want to go straight to the hospital, but I understand I can’t go waltzing in like this.”
“Good girl,” he whispered as we pulled into the drive.
I ran inside my house and straight to my room. Within three minutes, I had washed up, changed, and was back in the car and buckled up.
As Moses raced down the streets, a blanket of fear hung heavy in the air.
“Moses, what am I supposed to say to the detective?”
“Probably not much. I’m sure George has taken care of most everything. Just follow his lead, okay?” He gripped my hand with a brief reassuring squeeze and I silently nodded. The remainder of the ride to the hospital was eerily silent.
All three of us rushed into the emergency room, frantic for information about Mika. When a tight-faced nurse informed us she could only give patient information to family, I thought Moses was going to wrap his beefy hand around her throat and strangle her. Luckily for her, his cell phone began to ring, and he answered it with a frustrated growl.
“Emile. We just got here. They won’t tell us a goddamn thing because we’re not family.” He paused. “Yes. One moment.”
Moses thrust the phone to the closed-mouthed nurse. “It’s Emile LaBrache, Mika’s father.”
The nurse took the phone with an air of annoyance. At first she appeared distracted and uninterested, but suddenly her face went slack as she blinked and swallowed tightly. A dark crimson hue burst over her cheeks.
“He was brought in twenty-two minutes ago. He expired in route, but the paramedics revived him. After being triaged, he was immediately taken into surgery. He is in critical condition.”
The nurse paused. He’d expired in route? Oh, God.
“No, sir. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be in surgery. I can get that information for you though. Would you like to hold?” She nervously licked her lips and nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand. I will relay your wishes to the staff in surgery as well as ICU. Yes sir, everyone. Thank you.”
She quickly passed the phone back to Moses as if it were a snake.
“Emile.” Mosses nodded as he listened to whatever Mika’s father was saying. “Trevor will be at the gate waiting for you.”
Trevor clasped his hand in mine, holding it in a death-grip, then nodded his head. I could see the depth of worry on his face. There was no doubt mine held the same intensity as I silently willed Mika to hang on.
After another brief pause, Moses’s lips set in a grim line. “I will. I have been. I’ll see you in a few hours. I’ll leave messages on your cell with updates.” He ended the conversation as the nurse hurried from behind the white-topped desk.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the surgery waiting room. I’ll go back to the OR and tell them to keep you apprised of his condition.” Her eyes danced in a nervous jerk between the three of us. I had no idea what Emile had said to the woman, but whatever he’d told her, it had made a major impact.
Everything seemed to fly at the speed of light. Racing down the long, astringent-scented corridors, we wound our way deeper into the belly of the hospital. The nurse ushered us into a large empty room were couches and chairs were arranged in an inviting atmosphere, but it did little to soothe our anxious nerves. The nurse disappeared after assuring us she would return with more information.
Trevor pulled me to the couch and held me tight as Moses paced the speckled tile floor. Moments later, George and Detective Daniels walked through the doorway. I trembled as I looked up at the two men.
“How is he?” George asked, greeting Moses first.
“He’s in surgery. We don’t know anything yet. A nurse should be back with more info, soon. We’re just waiting.”
George nodded in solemn understanding then turned to me. “Julianna, I’ve relayed the events of this evening to Patrick. He needs to ask you a few more questions. He’s also informed me there has been a rash of carjackings in the area recently. It was unfortunate that Mr. McCollum chose Mika to perpetrate his carjacking crime against.” George’s eyes held mine with an underlying intensity, and his words were slow and steady, as if willing me to absorb the crux of an alibi.
“It’s a bit ironic. Just a few weeks ago, I received an anonymous tip that Dennis McCollum had stolen another man’s identity. The D.A. had recently initiated an investigation and charges had been filed. He was arrested a few days ago but posted bail only hours before the attempted carjacking. We think he may have been trying to flee the city.” The detective’s eyes were locked on mine, and I felt as if he were performing a visual lie detector test.
“I see.” I nodded, trying to focus on the cleverly constructed lie and not the scrutiny of the detective’s gaze.
George had indeed taken care of the situation. The story was a plausible one that protected Mika, Genesis, and me. I wondered if George was not only safeguarding us but himself as well. I looked at the detective who issued a grim smile.
“I only have a couple of questions for you, Ms. Garrett.”
The moment I’d been dreading had arrived. I watched as the detective and George each pulled up chairs and sat across from Trevor and me. Moses hovered behind the men, his body visibly humming with worry as he watched me.
“Did you notice anyone else with Mr. McCollum when he approached you and Mika?”
“No, sir.”
“Did he say anything to either of you?”
I nervously looked at George. “I...”
“I’m sure he probably said ‘give me your keys’ or something to that effect?” George volunteered.
I nodded, praying I wouldn’t be hauled away to rot in jail for giving false information. Nervous, I licked my lips, then cast my eyes to the floor. I wanted to slip into my submissive repose and escape the fear consuming me. Where was the calming center from my dream? I needed to find it and cling to it in order to get through these fearsome questions. It felt as if I were walking an imaginary tightrope stretched as tautly as my nerves. I knew one wrong word and I’d plummet into a terrifying and wholly uncertain abyss.
Already having lied to one law enforcement official, I worried if a condemning amount of guilt was reflected on my face.
“Did you know Dennis McCollum?”
“No, sir.” I shook my head. It wasn’t a lie, not really. I’d never been formally introduced to him as Dennis McCollum. I knew the bastard as Jordon. Escaping the truth by semantics was still an escape, and one I could live with.
“Who fired the first shot?”
“It was...both shots were fired simultaneously. Mr. McCollum had his gun drawn and pointed at us. Mika pulled a gun from behind his back and both shots rang out. I saw the bullet hit Mr. McCollum in the head as he fell backward, and I crawled to Mika’s body. There was so much blood...” My voice cracked as a tear slid down my cheek. Inhaling a deep, quivering breath, I continued. “Blood was pouring out of Mika’s chest. I found his cell phone and called nine-one-one, then tried to slow the bleeding until help arrived.”
“Thank you, Ms. Garrett. I don’t have any further questions. It looks like an unfortunate case of self-defense. If you remember anything else you feel is important to the case, please give me a call.” He handed me a business card as he stood.
“Thank you.” I nodded, wiping the tears from my face.
“I’m sorry this happened to your friend. I hope he pulls through.”
“Thank you, Patrick.” George nodded, shaking the detective’s hand.
“The press has been handled.”
“You’re one in a million.” George patted Patrick’s back and walked him to the doorway.
Within moments of the detective’s departure, the nurse reappeared.
“He’s still in surgery and is still listed in critical condition. They’ve removed the bullet and are repairing the damage it caused. It’s probably going to be a few more hours. As soon as the surgery is over, they will move him upstairs to the intensive care unit. The surgeon, Dr. Williams, will come out and talk to you as soon as he can. I’ll arrange an escort to take you to the ICU waiting room and make sure you are introduced to the team that will be taking care of Mr. LaBrache. Is there anything you need while you’re waiting here?”