Chapter Ten
Coco saw everything as if the chaos had unraveled in slow motion. Her sister and Zak were dancing on the dance floor. He’d just spun her around. Her head flung back and her curls tumbled down her back. Her laughter filled the air and resounded like an echo as he dipped her.
To Coco’s slight right, Kurt walked ahead of Liam, releasing the one button on his jacket as he took long strides toward her, those muscular legs and arms pumping naturally at air as he walked. Liam’s tall form stood out, too, but he seemed agitated as he scanned the club. Even the turn of his head and widening eyes seemed to happen at an unusually slow pace.
Then, a gunshot was fired. Liam opened his mouth, screaming to everyone to get down, but he was only looking at her.
At the same time, Coco spotted Brandon at her left, leaping over a table, yelling at Zak and motioning for Kurt, pleading with him. “Save Coco!” Everything was suddenly frenzied and yet Coco sat there for another minute or two, trying to figure out what was going on, remembering the same as her mind tossed her back to a recent memory, the one where Momma Blazier’s room had been left in ruins.
She remembered it like it was yesterday. The sheer curtains blowing in the wind, the distant pellets ricocheting off the swimming pool, and every Blazier on property screaming to save Coco and their mother, all the while the bullets pounded the walls of her bedroom. Momma Blazier had told her to hide in the compartment behind the closet and even as she’d been tortured, she’d sworn she was the only one in the room.
Jolting forward then, Coco was now fully aware of the gunfire as she toppled the table over, using it for protection and limited coverage against the spray of bullets. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat, the acid reflux bubbling in her stomach, the unnerving familiarity of danger, trouble that seemingly existed wherever she went.
“Coco!” Brandon’s voice ricocheted off the walls. She could hear him, but couldn’t see him.
Then Zak appeared, pushing through the crowd, dragging her sister alongside him. Zak screamed out her name and Drina’s as the music died. The club patrons’ terrified shrills filled the air.
She was then aware of Kurt at her side, conscious of those big, muscular arms folded over her head. “Stay down, baby.”
Another warm body wrapped around her. Liam. It was Liam.
“Fuckin’ A, man! What’s happenin’?” Some cool fellow—Dom wannabe is what most women dubbed his type in places like Paddles and Picnics—ducked behind their table, too.
“Shut up,” Kurt told him, holding Coco down.
“Brandon’s here,” Liam said.
“Who’s Brandon, dude?” Their new friend slammed his hand against the table when a spray of bullets hit the booth behind them. “Fuckin’ A, man. I didn’t come here to die tonight!”
Kurt dragged Coco’s shaking form closer to his body. Ignoring their unwanted guest, Kurt said, “Did you see anything?”
“Brandon.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. She’d seen a shooter, but now she wasn’t sure if she’d really seen him or imagined him, if the past had a way of painting illusions in front of her eyes when trouble was nearby.
The automatic weaponry in use made it difficult to see. The room was a screen of fog covered in a low, heavy mist. Folks were still squealing. An occasional gunshot was fired.
Zak and Drina were behind them now. She was aware of her sister clinging to her. “Coco. Oh my God, Coco. We’re gonna die!”
“Shh,” Coco whispered, realizing how crucial it was for them to remain quiet.
“We gotta get out of here.” Kurt stated the obvious.
“It’s not happening, man, but we’ve got an escape plan we can use. Just hang on!” Zak snapped out a few orders to Kurt and Liam, speaking their mother’s native tongue and rapidly giving their orders in Spanish, perhaps untrusting of the man who’d chosen to seek refuge at their table. While Zak, Kurt, and Liam discussed their apparent bleak options, Kurt drew her closer to his manly form, making sure he provided a complete shield, protecting her from stray bullets or direct fire.
Coco noticed then that Zak was doing the same for her sister, keeping Drina’s head close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her whole body and holding her close. Drina peered over his forearms and locked gazes with Coco. Tears pooled in her terrified eyes.
Tremendous guilt washed through her. C
oco was the eldest of five girls. She was the big sister and what had she done? Aligned herself with a family that was far more dangerous than her own?
“It’s all right, Drina.” She forced reassurance past her lips. “Trust him.” She mouthed the last part, vaguely aware of quick movement then. Gunmen were searching behind the tables.
“Liam, Kurt, stay close. Don’t lose sight of me. Once we hit the stairs, we have to keep moving.” Zak’s voice was hard, stern. “I’ve got Drina. Don’t lose Coco. Let’s go!”
Minutes later they were downstairs in a dimly lit area, one familiar to Coco. Lined by carpet-covered walls and dark tile floors, the area looked like a seedy waiting room outside of a rundown brothel.
“What is this place?” Drina glanced over her shoulder, but snuggled closer to Zak apparently comforted by the fact that they’d made it this far. No one else was on the hall which gave a false sense of security.
Zak felt around for a panel, located the hidden entrance access, typed in his code, flipped the wall panel back over the keypad and stepped aside when the wall parted. He rushed everyone inside. The sliding door closed behind them, sealing them off from the hallway, the club upstairs and any potential dangers.