“Come on, seriously? They’re not stupid.”
He arched an eyebrow. “They’re thugs, Fi. Of course they’re a little stupid.”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “All right, fine, whatever. What’s the plan again?”
“It’s easy. You follow at a distance and have your phone ready. When the assholes jump me, which I think will be pretty soon after I leave the house, you start filming. If I’m about to die, run and get help.”
“You’re crazy.”
He walked to me and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me slow and deep. “I know I am,” he said. “But I want this to be done. I don’t want it hanging over our heads forever. You have a life to live.”
“And you want your job back.”
He smirked. “That too.”
“All right then. You’d better get out there. No more distracting yourself with me.”
“Maybe I could use one more distraction.”
“I didn’t think you were physically capable of it.”
“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.”
I smiled and kissed his chin and wanted to beg him to stop, wanted to beg him to stay inside and pretend like none of this ever happened with me—and was almost tempted to strip down then and there to distract him from what he was about to do. Instead, he walked to the door, took a deep breath, and stepped outside without looking back.
If only he’d looked back, I would’ve begged him to stay. Maybe that’s why he didn’t.
I waited thirty seconds, then followed, phone clutched in my hand. He was halfway down the block by the time I stepped down the stoop—and two shadows were on his trail.
I cursed and crossed the street, then stayed as far back as I could without being seen. He walked down several quiet streets, but the two men following him didn’t get closer. Dean paused a few times, waiting around dead quiet buildings, but nothing happened. I felt my pulse racing, and I wanted to scream, and part of me thought they’d never make a move—
Until he turned a corner and cut through an empty parking lot.
One of the two guys jogged off to the right, skirting around the fence, while the other followed behind Dean. I crouched behind a car, my heart in my throat, but I raised my phone up as Dean nearly reached the end of the lot before stopping. It was Aldo, the short bald one, I realized, as he stepped into the light. Dean took a few steps back and held his hands up in the air.
I couldn’t see a gun. The second, skinny guy named Davide stood behind Dean at a distance.
I wished I could hear their conversation. I saw Dean take off his backpack and drop it on the ground. Aldo said something, stepped closer, but Dean didn’t move. Davide moved closer, and I knew they were going to get violent, I could feel it in the air, an electricity on the top of my tongue, like static on my arms. I tried not to scream, tried not to do anything but keep the phone steady and filming.
I got it all. I got every second of it, and even moved closer, hiding behind a tree as I filmed Aldo attack Dean, and Davide hit him from behind. He fought them as hard as he could, left Aldo’s nose bleeding, and Davide slumped back on the ground, but Aldo got in a cheap shot, knocked him to the pavement, and kicked him several times in the ribs. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks as Dean took the beating, curling up into a defensive posture.
I heard a shout and Aldo pulled back. A man wearing a security guard outfit jogged down the sidewalk toward them. I stopped filming, put my phone away, and ran to Dean as Aldo pulled Davide away, the two men escaping.
I reached Dean just as the other guard appeared. The security guard was overweight, pale skin, red hair, and looked around wildly. “What the fuck was that?” he asked. “Is that guy dead?”
I knelt down next to Dean. “I’m a nurse. Call an ambulance.”
Dean looked at me and smiled. His nose was bloody, and he had blood in his mouth. “You got it?”
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t talk. You might have internal bleeding.”
“Take me anywhere but Mercy.” He laughed, then grimaced.
I stared at the security guard, who wasn’t moving. “Call a fucking ambulance, you asshole.”
That snapped him out of it. I did my best to make Dean comfortable with what little I had until the ambulance arrived, and after that, it was out of my hands.26DeanI’d gotten my ass kicked before.
When I was a kid, my dad regularly hit me. Sometimes, he’d go too far, and he’d leave visible bruises.
But he never tried to kill me, never tried to break bones.
Aldo tried to break bones. Aldo wanted to murder me there in the street, and I was pretty sure he would have if not for that totally freaked out security guard that broke up the fight.