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13: Devon
The news station replayed the press conference from that afternoon and I rolled my eyes at Rachel as her voice interrupted the surrounding noise of the press and Beatrice.
“Did you have to poke the beast?” David asked, voicing the thoughts we both had. Rachel was never one to shy away from controversy and Beatrice was the same. They used to work together, a seamless, sarcastic, assertive team and they made a formidable front. Seeing them at war with each other was like watching someone shoot a bullet at a car, wondering when they would hit the gas tank. The subsequent explosion would decimate the surrounding block into a heap of ash and dust, leaving the rest of us to navigate through the flames and smoke.
“I can’t help it,” Rachel said with a sigh as she shook her head and gave us a reluctant cringe.
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Caught in the Crossfire 14: Beatrice
I was walking forward, not knowing where I was supposed to be going really, but being led by Alessio nonetheless. He steered me to the elevator, through the lobby, and out the side door toward a waiting vehicle. My mind was in a daze and the acidic taste of my vomit still coated my mouth.The back passenger side of the vehicle opened and in a daze, I stepped in barely noting that Callie was already inside. She had slid across the seat first, watching as I slid inside next to her. Alessio followed me, sliding next to me before nodding toward the driver.They had me sandwiched in the back seat and I registered the driver and a security guard perhaps sitting in the front passenger seat. They were taking me to Alessio Trivisonno's house. The man himself was sitting by my side as we started down the busy streets through rush-hour traffic.
Caught in the Crossfire 15: Alessio
Someone had shot her. Someone had fucking shot her on my territory. I was livid. I wanted to grab my gun and go shoot down the road toward the car, but I knew it was gone now. On the other hand, I couldn’t tear myself away from the woman, unconscious on the ground. Her blond hair was spread out in a wave behind her. Her face was pale, and her breathing was slowing. I knew we were close. I needed to help her. I couldn't let this be the end, but I didn’t know how to help. I could hear voices on the phone yelling at me, but I couldn’t pick the phone back up and put it by my ear because my hands were pressing against Beatrice’s chest, willing her to live. I don’t even know when Callie answered the ring. She dropped it and it was the least of my concerns. The voices stopped; I knew they must have hung up. “Where’s the doctor?” Callie asked me, her eyes wide with p
Caught in the Crossfire 16: Beatrice
I woke to a sharp pain in my side, the red hot fingers of fire stretched through my chest and grabbed hold of whatever pieces of flesh they could find.The pain was debilitating. I had never felt anything like it before. In a burst of self-preservation, I desperately hoped I never felt anything like it again.There was something incredibly disorienting about waking up in extreme pain with no recollection of how I got that way. Slowly the memory returned and the panic started to fill my chest. I had been shot. The reality set in of what that meant. I had been shot and now I was somewhere strange with a gunshot wound. The throbbing pain in my side? That was the gunshot wound.But I was alive. That felt like a small win.I could hear murmurs down the hall, and I took
Caught in the Crossfire 17: Beatrice
"Do you have any cash, Trey?" My voice was wobbling as the taxi sped off into traffic, swerving as if we were mid-chase and we were trying to lose a tail. "Cash? No. Well, maybe," his voice sounded unsure. "Maybe like a hundred bucks. What do you need cash for? You're loaded," Trey said as he glanced nervously out the rearview window as we sped through traffic toward our destination. "I only have my phone, which means I'll have to use my e-wallet. We need cash for the hotel," I gasped out as I groaned from the pain the last half an hour of effort had brought. The pain meds that my last cab driver had gotten for me had kicked in and it had taken the edge off, but the dull ache was ever present, reminding me that I had been shot. "Why do we need to use cash for the hotel?" Trey asked, completely oblivious to
Caught in the Crossfire 18: Beatrice
I accepted the news that someone was trying to actively kill me with a great deal of grace. I only screamed in the shower twice. Granted, that was an hour after Alessio told me that I had been the target of the shooting, and the shouts were two minutes apart, but it was still only twice. I feel that under normal circumstances there would have been a lot more shouting involved.There was a small reward in withholding the third well of emotion that rose in my chest. It felt like an anvil was pressing on my chest, crushing me from within. Each day it pushed harder and harder. I knew eventually I would give up; I would reach a point when I had too much, and I would succumb to the pressure.Luckily, that was not today. Two shouts and I had achieved the release I needed.The water of the shower coursed over my
Caught in the Crossfire 19: David
I stood in Tommas’ office and watched as he paced back and forth behind his desk, his words permeating the air. The entire floor could hear him, probably the entire building. Michael stood next to me, and we listened with stoic faces. “SHE WAS FUCKING SHOT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT A FUCKING MESS THIS IS GOING TO BE?” My blood was boiling but I kept my retort inside. He was worried about what a mess it was, and I was worried about keeping Beatrice alive. I knew logically that he cared about her, but he was focusing on the wrong thing. I nodded, words weren’t necessary, all three of us knew what would happen now. One of us would have to do something illegal to keep her alive and none of us were too keen to be the one to do it. “I’M GOING TO HAVE TO TELL THE FAMILY
Caught in the Crossfire 20: Beatrice
I pressed submit and leaned back in my chair. One case down, two to go. I was less than 48 hours post gunshot wound and I had already bargained a plea for Alessio's sister and organized the rest of the evidence from Alessio's case into a timeline. I was sitting at a long table in Alessio's second (or maybe third? who knew) home in the DC Metro area where we were due to file a motion this morning. Alessio had naturally brought me back to his home. After listening to my complaints about being in New York when his case was still being brought before a judge in DC, he finally relented and flew us all back to DC late last night. My threats to take the train were what finally did him in. As soon as he heard my plans to ride the train back to the city, a look of horror crossed his face and he called his pilot to get the plane ready within the hour. Apparently the train was for us peasants and he couldn't h
Caught in the Crossfire 21: Beatrice
A few minutes later we were sitting in the back of an Escalade, driving toward the courthouse, the four of us each lost in our own thoughts as Alessio found a place to park and we piled out of the vehicle, Trey once again helping me walk as we made our way toward the building. "Go sit down," Trey said as he gestured toward the bench near the courtroom doors. I nodded and walked slowly toward the bench, Alessio coming up to my side and grasping my hand in support. Trey was walking purposefully toward a coffee cart, a wad of cash in his hand. "You don't need to help me," I said as I tried to walk on my own. One cringe and a sigh of frustration later and I had grasped Alessio's arm as if I was falling off a cliff and he was the only one able to pull me to safety. "I think I do," he said with a soft bark of laughter.
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