"Don't be a hero... don't be a hero..." I whispered as I walked past a fighting couple. I don't like men who bully women. I think they are cowards incapable of picking on their fellow species. They target women because they think we are weak and make for easy targets. "Don't be a hero Katya."
I dropped a box of files in the back seat of my car. They are still arguing. He's pushing her around. I can't not be a hero. To a woman being harassed by a man, I must be. This is how Kei and I became friends.
"Hey! Back off!" I called out to him.
He must have mistaken my reluctance to get close as weakness but it's for his son good.
"Piss off! It does not concern you!"
"Miss, are you alright?" I inquired as I got closer wielding a crowbar behind my back. She nodded but her eyes said something else. "I'm going to ask you once. Back away."
"What will you do about it barbie?"
Now he's insulting me.
He lunged at me with balled fists. Papa says the bigger they are the harder they fall. I don't like being estimated. I got out of his way. I kicked his behind to propel him to hard fall. I knelt on his back with crowbar pressing against the front of his neck. "Hush now. Stay still. Listen buddy. It's not cool to beat up a woman. I'm feeling generous today so I'll let it slide."
I picked his pocket to retrieve a wallet. He got up fast uncertain whether to attack me or not. "Peter Holt." I looked at him after memorizing the details of his driving license. "I know where you live."
I dropped it on the floor for him to pick up.
The woman offered me an appreciative smile. I winked at her. We have to have each other's backs. It's va male dominated world. We can't afford not to take care of each other.
The thought of male world domination came with Nick texting me demanding that we meet. He's not even asking if I have time. He seems to think everyone drops everything at his orders.
I'm planning to go home and work. Anderson has been weird. She keeps accusing me of not picking up my slack. She never has a problem with me missing work but lately she won't let up. She's constantly picking on me.
At the back of my mind I'm thinking about Ferrer. That moment we shared at his house was nothing short of beautiful. I smiled to myself as I pulled up at a red light. It's pretty late at night. There's only a handful of vehicles around.
I reached for my phone.
Me:
Sorry buddy, not available tonight.
I sent the message to Nick.
"Come on already, change to green!" I tapped my hand on the wheel.
A bike pulled up beside me. I didn't think much of it until another one pulled up on my right. I held the wheel tightly. The light moved to orange. They raved their bikes both of them looking my way. I raved my car ready to go. Just before the light turned green, I stepped on the gas to propel the Porsche forward. I sped up trying to see if they would follow. They did rather faithfully maintaining their positions on either side of my car. I swerved to the left forcing the one on that side to veer off to a different road moving up.
I reached into the glove compartment. I took out my gun. I lowered the window and the bastard fired the first shot. He missed but I didn't. He rolled away possibly lifeless. I looked up for a second and the other rider was coming towards me firing shots that broke through the windshield. I accelerated and I ran him over. I slowed down when I felt pain. I looked below my left shoulder. I have been shot.
I'm losing blood.
I kept driving bringing the car into the basement parking of the apartment building I live in. I groaned out in pain. The bullet is too far in for me to reach.
I managed to spread a cover over the car. I don't want anyone to see the damaged car. I stumbled my way to the elevator trying not to pass out. I need to get to the house. I just need to get home.
When I tried to open the door it was pulled open from the inside. I held my gun only to see Terrence. I quickly lowered my hand.
"Mom!" He received me but he couldn't hold me up when I tumbled down. "What happened? Mom!"
"Don't call the police. Don't call 911. Don't call the hosp..."
Terr's POV
Earlier that day ...
Going through a suspension isn't part of the plan to get through school with a clean record. Part of me wishes I called Nick. There is no process with him. He makes it go away and he does it with the snap if his fingers.
Ferrer is taking the long way. He's making this a thing such that he has signed me up for therapy. The therapist is a friendly older woman. I have nothing against her but I'm not about to wear my heart on my sleeve. I just don't talk about my feelings.
"Terrence, we can be here all day until you say something."
"No we won't. I have an hour and based on the time, five more minutes. You will have to end the session and I'll go home until next week."
"You're clever."
"So I hear."
"And sarcastic."
"People who understand sarcasm are intelligent."
"Are you flattering me?"
"No." I smiled at her.
"Why are you here?"
"My father said I have to do this."
"What made him decide this?"
I shrugged. She's baiting me. Two more minutes and I'm out of here. "I don't know."
"I know your father. He occasionally lectures at Harvard. I sat in one of his classes. He's a great doctor. What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"Not a lawyer and not a doctor." I answered.
"Who is the lawyer? Is it your mother?"
One more minute. I could keep quiet and just let the time slide. "Yeah."
"What is she like? If you had to describe her using five words, what would you say?"
"Fun. Serious. Stubborn. Strong. Smart."
"She sounds like an amazing-" the timer stopped.
I got up and when I was at the door I glanced back at her. "Next week same time?" I smiled at her.
"Next week same time."
I'm not going back to his house. I can't believe he grounded me. First time at his place and he grounds me. I'm going home.
I was walking down the street at sunset when I realized how hungry I am. I woke up late and I ran all the way here to avoid being late for my appointment. I debated whether to eat something or take a cab to the other side of town. It's a long walk to mom's apartment. It's closer to Ferrer's but I'm not going back there. I don't see the purpose of me sitting in my room doing nothing.
"I once had a dollar in my pocket and I also wondered what to do with it." An old man smiled at me. "It's a common question for those with little means."
He looks well dressed. He's definitely not one with little means.
"What did you do with your dollar?"
"I bought food." He laughed. "What will you do with it?"
"I'm between two options. Going home and eating." I don't usually speak to strangers but there's something familiar about this old man. His blue eyes smiled at me.
"I have a grandson, about your age." He squeezed my shoulder. "I have never met him until now." I tried to step away but he squeezed my shoulder. "Relax Terrence. I would have been subtle but I'm living on borrowed time. Aren't you curious to understand more?"
When I was six, we were given an assignment in school for a family tree. My mom said she is an orphan and our family tree consists of the two of us. I don't believe anyone is truly alone in a genetic sense. We all come from somewhere. My teacher didn't say anything about the two people family tree I submitted. I think she must have understood.
"I'm curious."
"I'll buy you dinner. Come on. I know a place." He led me away down the street to a high end restaurant. Children aren't part of the scene. We took a table somewhere in the middle.
"You are my grandfather. Whose side of the family?"
"Whose father do you think I am?"
He has blue eyes. They are a paler version of my mom's. He can't be Ferrer's father because he's a Spaniard. This old man has a Russian accent. "You tell me."
He reached into his coat. Since a gun was pointed at me I'm terrified of people reaching into their pockets so I stood up quickly.
"Relax. It's just photographs. Do you want to see?"
I sat back down. I re roved the photographs from him. It's mu mom. This is her father. The woman she said was her friend is also in the pictures. The woman who pointed a gun at me is also in these pictures.
"That is Laura, my wife and your grand mother. That is my first born Katerina and the other one is my younger daughter Katya."
"Katya? You have it wrong." I gave him back the pictures. "I have to go. I'm sorry. Excuse me."
His body guard pushed me to sit back down. "Terrence, her name isn't Lorraine Hall. Her name is Katya Romanov."
Presently...
"Terrence!" Ferrer budged in with a back pack and another bag in hand. He set them down on the floor. I am pressing a towel on her wound like he instructed me. I didn't have a choice but to call him. I explained what was going on and he came clearly prepared. He cleared the dining table wiping it down before he spread his tools on a side table. He set up a lamp above the table. "Keep pressure. I'm going to lift her on the table."
He did so and I played my part by keeping the towel pressed down.
"Will she be alright?" I asked. She looks dead. She's almost as white as snow.
"Let go, I got it." He pressed down the towel. "Give me the trauma shears. It's the weird in looking scissors."
I passed it to him.
He cut my mom's dress wide open. I looked away.
"Terrence, she's going to be fine." I blinked away my tears so that he doesn't see me crying. He has covered her already with a sheet. "You're the assisting the surgeon. Stay strong. Let's get the bullet out."
To think I told the therapist I don't want to be a doctor and here I am playing assistant surgeon because mom has more skeletons in her closet than what a graveyard holds.