Be All

by Marie Wathen

  Pop pop

  Pieces of concrete fly off the large topiary pot in front of the DJ booth. Marcus moves behind the DJ booth, sets me on the ground and I hide behind the large wall. Drawing a gun from the front of his pants, he leans around the wall.

  “Rhys, over here! Behind the DJ booth. Get down Breesan!” Pausing, he takes aim.

  Pow pow I noticed the sound difference his gun makes from the ones shooting at us.

  Pop pop pop. Shots fly past Marcus.

  Ohgod, not Marcus

  Rising up, I see him jerk his head toward me.

  “Baby, stay right there please. I’ve got to get a better visual and stop this motherfucker now!” I nod because I absolutely can’t do any other fucking thing.

  Firing, but not processing, my mind is jumbled chaos and nothing makes sense. I feel numb. I feel lost. Not even aware Marcus is beside me again, he drops a kiss on the top of my head and moves around the wall.

  Pop.

  Again there is more shooting at Marcus. Turning my head, I see him on the other end of the booth. He rolls along the ground away from the stage. The shots keep coming; they’re so close, so loud, and shattering everything around me.

  Pointing up Marcus yells, “Rhys, on top of the house!”

  “I’ve got him Marcus. Stay down and let me get this motherfucker.” Rhys screams back from somewhere close. Marcus backs up behind the retaining wall again.

  “Fuck! Breesan, don’t fucking move! All of the shots are aimed at the DJ booth. Don’t move baby! Do you understand me? I need you to stay behind this wall!”

  Nodding my head in a jittery movement, I acknowledge his order but I don’t understand his meaning.

  The shots are aimed at the booth. Why are they shooting the booth? If they’re shooting the booth why can’t I move? They’re not shooting at me. My brain jolts with a crack of sound. I stare straight ahead. Shattering pieces from the top of the DJ booth fall over my head while leaves from the topiary blast past me. I see Marcus move away from the protection of the wall to shoot again. Fear engulfs me.

  No Marcus, please don’t leave me. Hugging the edge of the booth, he’s doing this alone. I need to help him fight.

  Tap, tap, tap

  I yelp. The sound is closer.

  “Fuck!” Marcus yells.

  Pop.

  One shot goes through the booth then past my head in a deafening disturbance. Heartbeats, that’s all I hear. I see Marcus’ mouth moving but I can’t hear him. Screaming, he moves within inches of my face and grabs me. Covering my hands over my ears, he understands instantly. He quickly pushes me over so that I’m lying sideways. He positions my body so that I am no longer parallel to the retaining wall. Mouthing the word “smaller,” he indicates I need to tuck my body into a ball. Understanding, I nod and mouth “low.”

  Tap, pop, pop, pop, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap

  Rolling into the fetal position away from him, I see Anna. My reason to fight awakens. Lying behind the band stage, she is covered in blood. Huddled together, Wren and Bates are behind her. All eyes lock on me. Waving his hands violently, Bates begs me to crawl to them. Wren grips him tightly with tears streaming down her face.

  “Help them! Marcus, help them!” I think I scream loud enough.

  It’s too much and needs to stop now. My desperate obsession is now to get to them. Tears begin burning my eyes, pouring uncontrollably down my face and I don’t care.

  Ohgod Anna.

  Opening her tear stained eyes, they bore into me. She’s scared. Dammit, I must help her. Wrapping around Tristan, she clutches him tightly, trying to hold on for life. Watching her, I realize I’m dying at the visual of her body acting as a shield to his.

  Tristan

  She’s covering him completely and he’s not moving. There’s blood all over the ground near his head. Her hand lies on the side of his head where a bullet struck.

  Mouth wide open, she screams.

  The silence is killing me now.

  Move! I need to fucking move

  God, please help them

  Rolling my head around, I see Marcus firing his weapon, ducking back and firing again. I move my body to get on my hands and knees. After another shot blast the chair in front of me, instead of hearing, I feel and wobble. Dropping on my stomach out of fear of getting shot, I feel Marcus crawls on top of me, encasing me completely.

  Hush.

  Gripping my arm roughly, Marcus jerks me off the ground and we run to the house past debris scattered all along the backyard.

  No. Not this way. This is the wrong way. Frozen bodies press against the back of the house. Fear etched in every face. Everything except our pace is in slow motion. Stopping our forward motion, I tug my arm free. Marcus stumbles then turns to look at me. I shake my head violently. Crying I turn around, looking toward Anna and Tristan. He frowns but shakes his head at me. Taking my arm again, he repeatedly yells but I pull hard against the grasp. They need us. I twist my body and arm forcing my release. Releasing me, he shoves roughly toward them with his body shielding me. We race to the back of the stage.

  Notices us come around the side of the stage, Anna’s eye widen and I drop to my knees. Tears streaming, she fiercely shakes her head and screams his name. I embrace her hard. Holding and rocking her, I stare at Tristan’s beautiful face and cover my hand over hers.

  Ohgod Tristan. Please be okay. Please God, please.

  For nineteen years only allowing these special people to hover on the outside of my solitary existence, I was living half of a life. It was bad but I was never alone. If not for Anna and Tristan breaking through I would have been in hell. They broke every piece of the damn wall I constructed and now they’re in.

  I can’t lose them tonight

  Crying and shaking together, I desperately hold her, reassuring her I’m here. I try but I can’t take my eyes off Tristan. Tightening on my arm alerts me that someone is pulling on it. A paramedic kneels on the ground beside me. Shoving me away from them, I fall over and land hard on my elbow. Confused, I shift my eyes around spotting Bates and Wren locked together against the stage. Trying to be brave, they look confused and anguished. Bates is Tristan’s closest friend. His expression reveals his fear. Fear that we all share.

  Marcus stands over me. Running his hand down my hair, he soothes me. He quickly pulls me off the ground into his arms. Embracing me for dear life, he squeezes the air out me in a gasp. Pain in his eyes is reflected in this hug. But there’s something else. Standing in front of me is everything. Desperately needing to hold on to all that I have now, I grip him tighter. My hearing, still distorted, I hear a muffled sound almost like a strangling noise. The medical personnel lift Tristan off the ground. Everyone steps back giving them room to work, except for Gran. Covering her hand over her mouth, she stands beside Tristan, now lying on a stretcher. My heart is raw emotion. Fierce sobs rack my entire body.

  Marcus holds me tight. “Shhh, Shhh, it is going to be okay my baby. Can you hear me?” I hear his words, but I can only cry. “Tristan, fuck, hold on Bubba!”

  What was once boisterous is now comatose. The large group dwindled down to a handful and the air is cessation. Tristan’s face is tightly blood stained and his body lifeless, so unlike the Tristan we all know and love. Gran’s cries rack her tiny body. Granddad has his arms lovingly around her waist supporting her. Tears flowing freely down his face, he swipes them and clutches her tighter.

  We all wordlessly watch as Tristan’s motionless body gets placed in the back of the ambulance. Climbing in the back with him, Anna’s red eyes bore into me and I stretch my trembling hand out toward her. Drawing my hand to his chest, Marcus nuzzles against my hair hushing and rocking.

  “Baby, he’s tough,” Marcus says softly to me then turns to his grandfather. “Granddad, can I drive you and Gran to the hospital?”

  Granddad shakes his head. “Come here son.” Keeping one arm around Gran, he pulls Marcus into a strong hug. “You’re right about that boy. He is tough and so a
re we. He needs all of us Marcus.” Looking down at me, he winks then places a soft kiss on the top of my head. The message is loud and clear.

  Together we’ll get through this. I offer a sad smile in return for the serenity he provides me. While his family suffers through this horrible event, he is kind to me. How is it possible to feel so much raw emotion in one night that I have never felt in a lifetime? Other than losing my father, I’ve never been around so much tragedy.

  “Did you hear me baby? Fuck, don’t let go of me Breesan,” he mumbles near my ear.

  Holding me from behind, he continues to speak softly. I twist around in his embrace. Wrapping around his waist tightly, he keeps holding on. Uncontrollable tears fall for the friend that’s fighting to keep his life, for the friends that need him to hold on, and for me. It’s fucking selfish as hell but I don’t give a damn now. I am consumed with wanting their friendships now more than ever. Mechanically running his hand down my hair, I sniffle and peek up into sad green eyes and again I pull him snug.

  “We- we should go to the hospital with them,” I croak, my throat rough from crying.

  “Yes,” he says simply.

  With guns in hand, Rhys and Kole run toward us and I begin shaking uncontrollably.

  “It’s OK, they’re with me,” Marcus soothes, holding me tighter.

  “We lost them.” Breathless from the run, Kole leans over placing one hand on his knee gasping for air. He raises his eyes to me and grunts. Moving toward me, he grips my arm but I don’t want leave Marcus. As if reading my mind, he tightens his grip on me.

  “No, I’ve got her Kole,” he growls. “How the fuck did they get away from you? He was shooting from the damn roof. Don’t tell me that a mother fucker on top of the damn house with a fucking assault rifle shoots my cousin in the head, shoots repeatedly toward my girlfriend and we fucking lose him!”

  Consumed with rage, Marcus shakes. Rubbing lightly on his back, I hope he knows I’m here for him. I understand where the pain comes from and where he is right now, it’s all exactly normal. However he needs to be to deal with this shit, is how I want him to be.

  Stepping close, Rhys speaks softly into Marcus’ ear. “You’ve got questions? We all do. But we need to do this away from everyone. The girl…”

  Marcus abruptly cuts him off. “Stays with me!” He snaps.

  “Fine, let’s move to the patio,” Rhys surrenders.

  Before walking away, Marcus turns to Bates, “Bates, I know you just met Wren but she’s Breesan’s cousin from out of town. Hell I don’t even know…” Trailing off, he plows his hands through his hair.

  “Marcus, don’t worry about her. I’ll make sure Wren makes it safely to her hotel.” Bates finishes for him. Smiling compassionately over her shoulder, Wren silently leaves with Bates.

  Sighing, Marcus places his hand at the small of my back, guiding me. We follow Rhys and Kole to the patio. My mind is on overload while my movements are mechanical. I’m barely keeping it together. Removing us from the diminishing crowd, the questions begin like rapid fire in my mind.

  Who would do this? Why here? Why Tristan? Are we safe here? Will it happen again?

  Fear bearing down on me now, I breathe deep, making a loud rattling sound and Marcus glances down at me. Nodding, I let him know I’m fine. A vibration in my back pocket alerts me it’s my phone. Refusing to let go completely, he allows me enough freedom to retrieve it. Knowing I am comforting him makes me smile. Leaning slightly out of Marcus’ embrace, I take out my phone. Quickly flipping through, I open my text messages. What I see instead scares the fuck out of me. My heart seizes when I read the flashing text message.

  UNKNOWN CALLER: HE’S NOT DEAD. YET.

  NO!! All air whooshes out of my chest.

  “Breesan!” My name is an echo of Marcus voice.

  Muffling, darkness, and nothing.

  – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

  Marcus

  “Baby, can you hear me? Fuck! Get a medic over here,” I yell at Kole and Rhys.

  I don’t give a damn which one it is that comes, but someone better help me. I’ve never felt a pain as bad as the ache in my chest at the moment.

  No, I just got her. If she shuts me out I’ll go fucking crazy.

  Sitting on the ground with my legs stretched out, I have her entire body draped over me. “What the fuck happened?” Kole growls. Kneeling down, he places his hand on her forehead and lifts an eyelid.

  Pushing his hand away, I snap. “I was just standing here holding her when her body went rigid. Her eyes rolled up into her head and then she fell.”

  Jogging back over with a medic, Rhys drops down beside him. The medic checks all of her vitals and then informs me that she is in shock.

  I think to myself, well no shit, we all are fucker.

  Refraining from snapping another person’s head off, I thank him. She’s okay and this is just her minds way of coping. I relax somewhat and focus on the shooting.

  “Can anyone tell me what the fuck that was all about? Could Dr. A know I’m in with you and that we’re getting close? Is he the reason why my family is suddenly a target for a chicken shit sharpshooter?”

  “There’s no fucking way he knows you’re in with us Marcus. I don’t think this was about you. Did you see that fucker’s trajectory? In the midst of all that bullshit he focused on one target.” Nodding at Rhys conclusions, I understand, but I don’t want to admit she was the target.

  “I’m calling HQ and asking them to send in a sweeper. If we can get a couple of guys in the area they might pick up a trail. Then we’ll get Mantracker on him.”

  Mantracker is an alias for Tac Sloane. He’s the bloodhound on Stealth Team. Stealth works like the US Navy Seals. You’ll never hear about Stealth on the national news. For all intended purposes, they don’t exist. No one’s been able to elude Mantracker, so if they bring him in, we will get those fucking bastards. Making them beg for their lives as I rip them limb from limb, is my goal. They will fucking pay.

  “We’ve got the city cops here now, but Baldwin County is sending an investigator. It’s their jurisdiction. Shit. To be safe, they need to go ahead and send in the whole damn Criminal Investigations Division.” Pacing in front of us, Kole inhales deeply as he continues to explain. “Until we know why the fuck someone would be shooting at her we’ll let them work the case. If we link Dr. Asshole to this shit, we can fight over jurisdictional boundaries then.” He mumbles through the bullshit. Stopping every few seconds, he looks between Breesan and I.

  Concern

  Continuing his phone call, Rhys stands a few feet away allowing me to hear some of his directives from HQ. Worry is etched across his face. Squeezing his cell too tight when seeing Breesan go down, he shattered his cell. This girl has an impact on more lives than she can imagine. Someone tried to kill her. Trembling, I think about how I wanted to come apart trying to protect her through all of the gunfire. Closing his bag, the medic tells me she need rest and assures me that she will be fine. Thanking him, I nod at his instructions and catch Kole’s adverse expression.

  “I’m taking her to bed. Keep me posted.” Hearing Kole grunt disapprovingly to my plan reminds me of his jealousy. Jealousy...Morgan. Fear strikes me when I realize I still haven’t seen Morgan since the gunfire erupted. “Has anyone seen Morgan?”

  “I think he left with some friends before you every came outside,” Rhys says, still on the phone with headquarters.

  Lifting Breesan’s petite body in my arms, her face nuzzles against my neck. My heart clenches then thumps at the sadness etched in her lovely face. Lovingly, I squeeze her to my chest and make my way through the now empty house. Everyone that isn’t family was ordered out. And all of my family is at the hospital with Tristan.

  Dammit Bubba, hang in there you little shit.

  Taking the stairs up to my bedroom, I twisted the knob, forcing the door open with
my shoulder. Gently, I place her in the bed. I stand frozen, staring at her. My baby. Who would want to harm a hair on her sweet head? Thinking back to the crazy moments just before the shooting began, I recall the words she said. Julia is involved in this and I know it, like I know my own fucking name. Which means Dr. A orchestrated tonight’s shooting.

  But why Breesan? It’s not like we have been together long. It was just tonight that we found our way into each other’s arms, finally giving over to our need for each other. He couldn’t know already. No, this attack was planned well before tonight. What good would killing Breesan bring him? Nothing.

  There must be more to his involvement with Breesan than the DEA could possibly know. I need to run this by the team and move her into top priority for protection. This won’t fly with Rhys. As much as he seemed concerned with her tonight, he’ll just tell me that’s not our department and to let those guys handle it. But if he knows what she means to me, he’ll believe differently.

  That’s it then. I must tell everyone to protect her.

  Morgan. Morgan will complicate things between us; it’s a fact. Even as bad as things are between us, I need to know Morgan is alive. I send a text with no response, so I call him. Voicemail. Fuck.

  There is nothing more I can do now except crawl into bed with the woman I love and stay that way until dawn. Hovering over her at the edge of the bed, I stare at her face for the longest time. Her features are still tight. She has a deep worry wrinkle between her eyebrows that appears to be twitching. Her mind isn’t completely shut down. She’s in protective mode but she’s worrying about too much shit in there. Tracing my thumb over the spot, her tension eases upon my touch. Hearing a sharp intake of breath, I watch her chest quickly rise and hold for a few moments. She releases it slowly followed by the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.

  “Marcus,” she whispers in her sleep.

  Shuttering, I brace myself, slamming a hand against the headboard before I collapse. With my other, I manage to continue rubbing the pad of my thumb over her forehead and along the side of her face. After a few minutes all signs of turmoil recede and she relaxes. Not realizing it, but after waiting on her I follow suit and relax too. Sliding across my bed, she turns facing away. Slipping a hand under the pillow, she tucks her knees to her chest. Reaching down, I slip off her shoes and socks. Pulling the duvet from the foot of the bed, I cover her lightly.