“Get in the car.”
The man who speaks is older, maybe in his forties. He’s got greying hair and a thick beard. He’s large, with wide shoulders and a terrifying scar that runs down the left side of his face. His eye is miscolored and clearly damaged on that side, too. When he speaks, his teeth are browning in areas. He’s horrible. Possibly one of the scariest men I’ve ever seen, but one thing is for certain, I have seen him before.
I have a choice right now.
I turn and run, praying they don’t hit me when they shoot.
Or I get into the car and allow myself to be captured.
The worst possible thing I could imagine in this moment, is being taken again.
I’d rather be shot and take the risk that it won’t kill me.
I remember in school, when the teachers told us if we ever had a gun pointed at us and we were told to get in a car, that we should take the risk and run, making sure to zig zag and bob up and down as we did. The chances of the gun hitting something vital were a lot less than ending up murdered or worse because we got into the car.
Seems like valid advice.
I stare at the man, and he gives me a feral snarl and growls, “Three seconds, Aviana, or I blow your brains all over this fuckin’ sidewalk.”
Wait, how does he know my name?
These men are after ... me?
A gunshot rings out.
I instinctively clench my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to radiate through my body. Only that pain doesn’t come. Instead, another shot rings out and then the car speeds off, disappearing into the night as if it were never there. I spin around, confused, and I see Cohen standing beside a large tree, gun pointed in the direction the car was just sitting. My eyes widen, and I’m completely stunned, unable to say or do anything.
He just saved my life.
“I ...” I begin, but nothing more comes out.
“Get back into that motel room, right fuckin’ now. You’re not safe out here.”
I do as he asks, and I move back toward the location of the motel, terrified that those men are going to show back up and finish the job. I pick up into a jog, and Cohen follows closely behind me, jogging also. We round the corner to the motel room and run inside the room I just managed to escape from. Only when we’re inside, and Cohen has locked the door, do I breathe a sigh of relief.
“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Cohen barks, spinning to face me. “You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse.”
I stare at him. “Those men knew who I was. How the fuck did they know me? Why have I seen them before? What is going on? I’m done with the secrets and lies. Tell me who those men were, Cohen.”
“I don’t fuckin’ know who they are.”
“You’re lying!” I yell, throwing my hands up. “You’re fucking lying.”
“What were you thinkin’ runnin’ out there and riskin’ your life?”
He’s changing the subject. I’ll let him, for now. But he is going to tell me who those two men were and what the hell they wanted with me.
“I wasn’t going to be your prisoner, Cohen. If you don’t trust me, then I wasn’t going to hang around so you could all treat me like the enemy.”
“So you fuckin’ ran off in the middle of the night? Where the fuck were you goin’ to go, Aviana? You’ve got no money, no phone, and no family.”
“I would have figured it out,” I say, crossing my arms.
“You’re fuckin’ lucky I woke up and saw you were gone. If I had slept even five minutes longer, you’d be fuckin’ dead right now. Is that what you want? To be fuckin’ killed because you refuse to use your brain?”
Anger bubbles in my chest. “I didn’t know they were following me, but you can clearly see now that I had nothing to do with why they’re here. They wanted me to get into that car, and I’m sick and tired of wondering why that is. Tell me, Cohen. I want to know the truth. If you want me to stay here with you, and trust that you’re going to protect me, then you need to be honest. I’ve seen those men before. I want to know what’s going on.”
“You want me to be honest? What about you? You complain that we don’t fuckin’ trust you, but you’ve given us nothin’ to trust. You came back and all you’ve wanted was to get your revenge on me. I’m not so stupid that I didn’t figure that out the second you came back in. Trust goes both ways.”
Dammit, he has a point.
I stare at him.
Do I let it all go and just tell him the truth? Tell him what I planned on doing? Tell him anything else I know?
Do I decide in this moment, that I’m going to move forward?
Or will I stay exactly where I am, living this bitter lifestyle?
“I’ll be honest with you, if you can promise me that you’ll have my back. You gave me away out there, just threw me under the bus like I didn’t matter. You’ve not trusted a single word that has come out of my mouth, how can I be sure you’re going to now?”
His jaw ticks. “I was protectin’ the club, you know I had a right to do that. As for the rest of it, I’ll have your back if you fuckin’ let me.”
Let him.
Can I do that?
Can I let him in?
Can I trust him?
“Tell me why those men wanted me. Tell me what it is you’ve been hiding from me for so god damned long. I want to understand, Cohen. I need to know why you did what you did.”
He turns and walks over to his bag, unzipping it and pulling out a large file. He walks over and hands it to me, then he
