Night Falls

Four

Scott cradles the phone to his ear as he grabs a pair of jeans and throws on his t-shirt that had been thrown across the room the night before.

He grabs a notepad from the living room, writing a quick note for the guy still sleeping on the bed.

Ben. He had whispered his name in his ear after he bought him a drink.

Had to run. Work emergency. Thanks for the fun night. -Scott

It was short and to the point. Scott didn't do romance. Not lately at least. And he had a feeling Ben wasn't expecting much else anyways.

He can hear Mitchell breathing on the line, his breaths quick and heavy, like he's on the verge of passing out.

"Hey, Mitchell," He's hoping he has Mitchell's attention as he buckles his belt and shimmies his feet into his boots.

"Listen to me. You're going to be okay." He hurries into the kitchen and grabs the keys from where they were thrown on the table.

"But you have to focus, got it?" He instructs, letting the apartment door slam shut behind him.

"Yeah. Got it." Mitchell says, and he can hear the tremble in each of his words.

"Take a deep breath." He climbs into his car, wasting no time to start the engine and pulls out of his parking spot, tires screeching against the pavement as the Mustang roars to life.

He pulls the phone away from his ear, pulling up a new text message and typing in the number he had seen on the card from metro detective Kevin Olusola

Kevin–Scott Hoying FBI. 911 with my witness. Let dispatch know not to pull over a black Mustang plates ch79rh.
He glances up from his phone as he hits send to make sure he's still in his lane.

Send anyone available to findlay market west sector for protection. His fingers fly across the screen.

His phone dings as the message sends and almost immediately there's a response.

Done.

Scott puts his phone back up to his ear.
"Mitchell?" He asks, the line silent the few seconds he was texting.

Despite the calm in his voice, Scott's heart was racing.

Not only was Mitchell's life in danger, but if he lost him, even the slightest chance of getting his help would be gone forever.

"I'm still here." Mitchell's voice is quiet, but the tremble is gone.

"Good." Scott's single grasp on the steering wheel tightens as he weaves through traffic.

"If you see a cop before I get there, they know what's happening. Stay with them until I can get you."

Scott passes a sign that reads Findlay Market-Next Exit and speeds up, needing every second he can get.

{*#*}

I continue to stroll through the market, trying to appear as if nothing is wrong, and that a murderer wasn't stalking me, probably with an awaiting gun, ready to kill me.

I swallow hard at the thought. Get a grip. Just keep it together until Agent Hoying gets here.

I nod to yourself, rolling my shoulders and taking in a deep, strong breath as my chest puffs out. If I wanted to survive this, I had to buckle down and put my brave face on, no matter how terrified and small I felt on the inside.

As I turn the corner to head indoors where I'm pretty sure the meat vendor is, I see a cop strolling towards me.

I let out a breath and smile, wanting to cry with relief.