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Lia
For a brief second, I forgot about the bloodshed and what I’d witnessed. The shock on the man’s face — on Tyler Michaelson’s face — replaced by recognition and the soft exhale of the wordyouhad turned this situation even more upside down.
He recognized me?
That was even more unnerving than me recognizing him and having the same spiral of fireworks go off in my stomach, even as my brain screamed with horror and panic.
“Michaelson, no, no,no! D-don’t,” Mickey said with a groan from the floor and he tried to get up, then fell back with a grunt of raw pain.
I gasped and tried to move forward but Tyler Michaelson blocked me, his eyes searching my face. I shoved past him, shaking with anguish and wishing I knew first aid or something,anything, to help the man dying in front of our eyes.
“Please! Please, don’t hurt her. She’s…” Mickey sagged to the side. “God, no.”
“Oh my god,” I gasped and scrabbled across the floor, slipping in the pooling blood. I choked back spittle as my stomach struggled to hold its contents.
Falling to my knees by Mickey Weiss, my brain flashed back to bloodstained blue tiles. And somewhere, in the back of my head, it all clicked together. I’d thought it was the terror at witnessing a man’s death that had finally driven me from the closet.
But now, I knew it was rage, too. Rage at how fucking unfair this all was.
And if I could do something to stop it, no matter how scared shitless I was, I’d damn well try. So, without even thinking about it, I turned and ripped my sweatshirt from Tyler’s hands and pressed it against Mickey’s wound. He gasped in pain and coughed, his eyes shutting to a close.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I whispered as my chest cracked with too many emotions. Rage was twisting into frustration and disgust, all directed at myself.
I should’ve called the cops instead of jumping out of the damn closet. I should’ve done something sooner. I could’ve prevented Mickey from getting shot if I had given myself up and admitted to having the flash drive – maybe bartered for our lives somehow.
I could’ve done something besides being a fucking coward hiding in a closet while a man was beaten and threatened at gunpoint.
I was willing to do illegal shit for money, but notthis— never this.
Now I’d have another dead cop on my conscience, another death that I could’ve prevented if I wasn’t so fucking selfish and impulsive.
“No, no, no,” I said. “You can’t die. Not again, this can’t happen again.”
“Marina,” Mickey suddenly slurred and I fell back with a thud, staring at him. “You shouldn’t be here. I failed you. I failed you again.”
My hands fell to my sides and my head swam. I was being punished for my sins. I knew it. Why else would a dying man say my mother’s name? What devil or angel had whispered my mother’s name into this cop’s ear and compelled him to say that?
Then cold logic seized me, and I shook myself, asking, “Marina?” I leaned down, watching Mickey’s eyelids flicker as he struggled for breath. “Marina Fioreno? You knew my mom?”
“Fioreno?” I heard one of the Mafia guys ask. “Fierce Fioreno?”
“What the hell is going on?” asked another. “Who is this chick?”
“What should we do, boss?”
“Call for help,” I screamed and twisted around, staring down the big and jacked Italian guys that looked down upon me. Their boss was closest, eyeing me with the same coldness I’d heard in his voice earlier. I was still struggling to wrap my head around it, to reconcile that voice and actions with the sexy, smoldering man who’d winked at me in the bar. “What are you doing standing around? He’s dying. Call someone.”
“Not really our wheelhouse,carina,” one of them said, shrugging his big shoulders.
“Fall back,” Tyler said, and his men did so. He walked forward, and suddenly the gun was lifted again. “Better start talking. Turns out we don’t have all night after all.”
“Go to hell,” Mickey gritted out.
Something inhuman twisted Tyler’s face and he spat, “fuck this,” as he aimed the gun.
I saw the blue tiles and the bloodstains, the gun in a lifeless hand and my body moved.
“Stop.” My voice was low and controlled, my arms thrown to the sides. “Stop. Don’t do this. We need to get Mr. Weiss help.”
