She didn’t know how much time passed while she cried, but all at once it stopped. She felt raw, as if her emotions had been scraped down to the bone. Her gaze wandered back and forth, and she was vaguely aware of Rick’s hand still there on her shoulder, of his massive presence just behind and to the side of her.

Her wandering eyes fell on a knife lying on the floor a few feet away. She picked it up, absently noting that blood covered most it. All she could think about was the night she’d received it, an impulse purchase from a website. The doorbell had rung, Craig answering the door to find a delivery guy standing there. He’d signed for the package and brought it inside, opening it on the coffee table in the living room. She had walked in just as he cracked open the outside box. His face had brightened into a huge smile on seeing the new, very high quality kitchen knives.

“Did you get these for me?” he had asked, seeming like a kid on Christmas morning.

“No, they’re mine. I’m going to start learning to cook,” she had replied. She hadn’t been able to help but smile at her brother’s enthusiasm.

“You? Cook?” he asked, shooting her a look of faux puzzlement. “Well I hope you got fire insurance too, for when you burn this place down.”

Craig had probably used them more than she had, as she’d never really followed through on her desire to cook more. And now here it was, sitting in her hand with Craig’s blood all over it. She turned it over in her hand, as if seeing it for the first time.

Rick’s hand engulfed hers, gently taking the knife away and setting it on the floor. He took her by the shoulders from behind then and turned her until she was facing him, both of them on their knees. His hands pulled her into a crushing embrace against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he would be able to hold in the splintered strands of her soul.

After a moment, Rick whispered into her ear. “I’m sorry Laura. I wish we could have done more.”

She just stayed there in his arms, hardly hearing anything he said.

 

 

 

After a while, she felt Rick go tense against her. “Men coming,” he whispered, his lips close to her ear. “Same accent as the goons from last night. On the stairs, one floor down. They’ll be here soon.”

They stood up together. If they really were one floor down there wouldn’t be time to get to the elevator before they got to Laura’s floor.

Rick led her to the hallway across from the living room. His nose twitched. “At least one of them is carrying a gun.”

Laura could hear voices now, still soft but growing louder. They sounded jovial, their speech regularly punctuated by laughter.

Her expression tightened. They were laughing, and her brother was dead on the floor. She pulled the small pistol out of the front pocket of her hoodie, eyes glazing with anger.

“Hey, killing someone isn’t going to bring him back,” Rick said quietly. “We need to get out of here and call the police.”

“They don’t get to be happy,” she said, her voice heavy with fury. She knew she wasn’t being rational, but felt only half in control of her actions. Her grief had combined with her anger, creating a chaotic storm inside her.

“They won’t be, but let me do the fighting. We surprise them, then get out. Anything else it too dangerous.”

She didn’t say anything as Rick pushed her behind him and pressed himself against the wall, hiding just behind the corner where he wouldn’t be seen when they came in. Her hand still clutched the gun, holding it by her side in a tight grip.

The voices were louder now, the men almost at her door. They waited breathlessly, Laura’s anger making fear impossible. The door opened, and the harsh Brooklyn accents washed across the apartment.

“…only take a few hours tops, then we’re out at the bar.”

“Yeah, I know. I still think we could’ve waited ‘til tomorrow though. This guy ain’t going anywhere.”

Laura’s jaw tightened at hearing her brother’s death talked about so casually. As if sensing she was about to lose control, Rick pressed her back into the wall with one arm.

The men walked into the living room, still talking amongst themselves, coming to within a few feet of the corner they were hiding behind. All at once Rick exploded forward. It was shocking how quickly he could move. The man closest to him barely had time to turn before Rick’s fist sent him crumpling bonelessly to the floor. The second man fared no better, a second swing from Rick’s arm knocking him clean off his feet to land on his back.

Laura turned the corner then, seeing the last thug already pointing a large silver pistol at Rick. Time seemed to slow down as she raised her arm, the small gun in her hand feeling weightless. She brought it straight in front of her and pulled the trigger, knowing that it was already probably too late.

Both guns seemed to fire at the same time, the sound shockingly loud in the enclosed space. Her sudden appearance had made the thug jerk slightly, however, and his bullet went wide, thudding into the wall.

Her shot didn’t miss though. The man looked down at the blood spreading across his chest as if in disbelief. He looked back up at her, eyes pleading for help before he fell to his knees, then landed face down on the floor.

Rick didn’t waste any time talking, grabbing her by the arm and rushing out the door. She followed him into the hallway, mind strangely focused on the look of surprise on the face of the man she had shot.

They dashed down the hallway to the stairwell and started down. Laura wasn’t worried about calling the police anymore. Two gunshots in a crowded apartment building in New York would probably bring them faster than any phone call.

Laura heard the door to the stairwell open above them just after they had passed the fifth floor. “…will kill us if we let them get away! They shot Frank!” She heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs above as the two men chased after them.

They ran down the stairs as fast as they dared. Laura almost tripped over her own feet in her haste, and just barely caught herself before she tumbled down the stairs.

Soon they reached the basement parking lot, the sound of the two men giving chase spurring them onward. Laura was out of breath, both from the mad dash down the stairs and the adrenaline flooding through her. Rick didn’t even look slightly out of breath.

He opened the door leading to the parking lot and she followed him out. They ran to the Rick’s truck and jumped in. It roared to life as he turned the key, and he pulled it out quickly and started toward the ramp that led up to the street.

Just as they hit the ramp the door to the stairwell opened and the two men spilled out. Looking through the back window of the truck, Laura saw the men pile into a black sedan.

Just before the truck reached the exit to the street, Rick stopped. “Seatbelt, please,” he said, his voice infuriatingly calm.

Laura began strapping herself in. “Really?”

“No looking back once we’re on the street. Act like nothing’s wrong,” he replied. Then he pulled the car out on to the road, driving slowly, as if they weren’t being chased by gun toting thugs.

Laura fought to keep from twisting around in her seat to look behind them. She made do with looking in the rearview mirror. Just as she looked, a police car turned the corner in front of them, lights on and sirens blaring. It roared up to the entrance to her buildings parking and stopped, blocking anyone from exiting.

Rick still drove calmly, looking for all the world like a man out for a casual Sunday jaunt. He turned right at the first street they came to. He glanced over at her, his usual jovial expression no longer present. Instead, his face radiated concern. “I’m so sorry Laura. I wish I had suggested dropping everything and leaving as soon as you told me about Craig’s problems. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Rick. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have been here to see him ---” She couldn’t finish the sentence, emotions boiling up inside her that threatened to break through the calm demeanor she was just barely holding onto.

He seemed to sense that this wasn’t the time to try to talk things through, and he was right. Her emotions were running riot through her, fading adrenaline combining with grief and anger to create a turbulent mix. One second she felt like crying her eyes out, and the next she was filled with a rage unlike anything she had ever experienced.

And yet through it all, her mind kept returning to the surprised look on the face of the man she had shot. The way he had glanced down at his chest, as if he couldn’t believe that he could be hurt.

Laura found herself lost in her own thoughts. Maybe everyone has a similar sort of feeling, that all the people we see and meet consider themselves to be the protagonist, and nothing bad ever happens to the protagonist. She realized that deep down she was the same, that she hadn’t believed that Craig could really be hurt or killed. Other people could be hurt by loan sharks, other people could be killed, but in their world everything was safe. The police protected people from predators and the good guys always found their way out of trouble.

The death of her parents had been so long ago that the comfortable bubble of invincibility had grown back. But now it had been shattered again, and Laura had no idea how she could fit any of the pieces back together.

Rick looked over at her finally. “Do you want me to take you to the police station? Somebody needs to tell them what happened at your apartment.”

Laura shook her head, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “No, I can’t talk about this to anyone right now,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. “I can’t spend hours locked in a room talking about…” The near mention of Craig’s name forced the tears from her, and she broke into sobs.

“Alright,” Rick said, taking one hand off the wheel and resting it on her knee. “I’ll find us somewhere to stay.”

Time passed with Laura only vaguely aware of where they were. The traffic stopped and started for a while, then she noticed they were on the bridge crossing to New Jersey. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to see, not wanting to be reminded of when she’d first come to New York. She had been so young, so hopeful about the future. It seemed like a million years ago.

 

Rick drove them over the bridge and out of New York. He headed straight for the highway back west, wanting to find one of the cheap hotels that dotted it.

He looked at Laura while they were on the bridge. Her light blue shirt was stained with Craig’s blood, and her hands were similarly covered. He pulled out a package of wet naps from the glove box and handed them to her.

When she first looked at them she seemed confused, as if she didn’t know what she was supposed to do with them. He gestured to her arms. “Clean yourself up, Laura. Won’t do us any good for anyone to see you like that.”

She nodded slightly and began use the wet naps to clean off her hands and arms. She moved mechanically, as if her mind wasn’t fully engaged in the task. Rick supposed that was natural, all things considered.

He was worried about Laura. More than worried. From what she had told him yesterday, he knew that Craig was some of the only family she’d had left. He knew what it was like to feel alone in the world.

Add that to the fact that she had just killed a man. Rick had seen the wound before the man had collapsed, and it would almost certainly be fatal. How could she possibly deal with all this at the same time?

There was nothing he could do but put one foot in front of the other, as much as it hurt him to admit it. For now he would find them a place to rest. After that, well he would deal with that when it came time to.

After fifteen minutes on the highway he finally saw a place to stop. It was a small, fairly rundown looking motel, but it was something. It was a simple building, an office in the front with doors to the individual rooms all along the front and back sides.

He pulled in and parked the truck around back. He didn’t think anyone would be looking for them, or that anyone would know where to look, but there was no point taking chances.

Laura didn’t seem to notice when he turned off the truck, lost in her own thoughts as she was. He took her hand in his, and spoke softly. “Wait here for just a minute, okay? I’ll get us a room.”

She nodded her agreement, but otherwise didn’t move or look at him. Rick gave her hand one last squeeze, then hopped out and walked around to the front entrance.

There was an older, bored looking lady sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. She looked up as he approached, smiling widely as she saw him. “Well aren’t you somethin’,” she murmured, looking him up and down with more than business in her eyes.

He smiled back at her. Rick had grown accustomed to drawing attention, and was fairly comfortable with it. Better to learn to enjoy something you can’t change, he’d always thought.

“Good evening,” he said politely. “I’d like a room for the night please.”

“Just you, hun?” she asked, checking a ledger in front of her.

“No, me and a friend. We’ll need two beds, and I’d prefer one of the rooms around back if there’s one available.” He put both forearms on the counter and leaned forward a bit, flashing what he thought of as his most winning smile.

“A friend, you said? That’s too bad,” the woman said. She had a knowing twinkle to her eyes that would have made Rick laugh out loud at any other time. “Room 115, back side with two double beds. That sound alright?”

Rick nodded, taking out his wallet. “Sounds perfect.”
Rick paid in cash and got the room key, then gave the woman one more smile and went back out the front door. He walked around to the truck and went to the passenger side, opening the door and helping Laura out.

He grabbed her bag and led her to their room. It was exactly what he had expected, faded wallpaper and worn blankets, but it smelled clean. Well, clean enough.

He tossed her bag on the bed furthest from the door, then turned and faced Laura. Her face was a portrait of sadness, but at least she looked up and met his eyes. He pulled her to his chest and hugged her, wrapping her in his big arms.

He had failed her already. When Laura had told him about Craig’s problem, he had assumed that the worst Craig could expect was a rough beating, maybe a broken arm. He had completely underestimated the level of criminals Craig had been dealing with, and because of that Laura had lost her brother. How could he ever look her in the eyes again?

As if she could sense where his thoughts were going, Laura pushed back from him a few inches and looked up at him. “None of this is your fault Rick. You helped me as much as you could, and if you hadn’t been around last night I could have gotten hurt or worse. Thank you.”

He accepted her sentiment, even if part of him didn’t agree with it. There was more he could have done. Still, she needed him to be strong now, so that’s what he would be. In his mind, however, he was rolling around all the things he would like to do to the men who had killed Craig. Most of all to the man who had caused it to happen. One of the men he had fought the night before had talked about working for someone. Whoever it was, one day he would make him pay.

He reached up a hand and stroked Laura’s smooth face, then pulled her head toward his chest and kissed her forehead. “You should take a shower and get changed,” he said softly.

She nodded, glancing down at herself. “Okay,” she replied. She walked over to the bed and grabbed her bag, then headed into the bathroom.

Rick went to the bed closest to the door and laid down. It had been a long day, and with his body still healing he felt exhausted. He listened as Laura stripped down and got in the shower. He soon heard her crying again, softly. A human would have never heard it over the sound of the running water, but Rick wasn’t human.

He briefly thought about going in to comfort her, but quickly discarded the idea. It would uncomfortable at best for her, so he just sat there and listened, knowing there was nothing he could do. The crying stopped after a few moments.