The detective frowned. “Mr. Blackwell, why are you asking her that?”
I ignored him and didn’t take my eyes off Milan.
“I’m pretty cure those mothafuckas got a good look at you…”
She thought about what I said before nodding. “Yeah, I’m sure because the one wearing the hoodie looked right at me.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know… maybe a second or two.”
“And a second or two is all it takes.”
The detective folded his arms across his chest, already knowing what I was hinting at. “We don’t know that she’s in any danger.”
I finally looked at his ass.
“And you don’t know that she isn’t. Clearly, you don’t know how this street shit is.” Neither one of us spoke for a moment as I mugged his ass. Then I returned my stare back to Lil’ Mama. “You said one of them started walking toward you,” I said, looking back at Milan. “Why’d he stop?”
“The sirens.” She answered so fast I knew she hadn’t forgotten a single second of it. “Hospital security came through the employee entrance, and I heard police getting closer. That’s when they ran.”
I nodded slowly.
“So, they didn’t leave because they were finished.” I voiced much to myself. “They left because they ran out of time.”
The words hung in the room.
I watched her expression change as everything she’d been trying not to think about started making sense. She shook her head before looking toward the detective.
“But they don’t even know who I am… They saw me but they don’t know anything about me. My name or anything.”
“They don’t have to.” Her eyes came back to mine. “They know where you work. That’s enough.”
Silence settled over the room again, heavier than before.
Detective Harris finally cleared his throat. “As I said, we’ll have patrol keep an eye on her apartment for the next few days.”
I almost laughed.
“For the next few days…” I repeated.
He frowned. “It’s standard procedure.”
“Standard procedure gets people killed.”
The detective’s jaw tightened like he was offended, but I didn’t give a damn. His ass knew not to say anything because deep down, he knew I was telling the truth. Fuck that standard bullshit.
I looked back at Milan. She hadn’t said another word. She was still trying to process the fact that the worst part of her night might not have been over. I could see it all over her face. She’d walked into work expecting an ordinary shift.
Instead, she’d witnessed an attempted murder, become the only witness, and now had two men out there who knew exactly what she looked like.
Whether she believed it or not… her life had just changed.
“You think they’re coming back?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t think shit.” I held her gaze without flinching. “I know how people like them move.”
Confusion and fear fought for space across her face. She wanted me to be wrong. Hell, anybody in her position would. Unfortunately, I’d spent too many years dealing with people who solved their problems with bullets instead of words.
