I covered my ears with my hands, an attempt to block out the screams and the distinct sound of gunshots, watching as Anthony pulled his phone out of his pocket. He turned around and threw his phone at me, forcing me to react quickly and catch it in the palm of my hand. It was so loud I barely heard him as he shouted at me.
“Go to my last calls, get Jack on the phone, and tell him we need back up,” he yelled as he took the safety off his gun, bringing it to his side and taking a step towards me. He ran his free hand down the side of my cheek as he pierced me with a serious look. “Stay here.” He ordered while scanning the room looking for cover. Eventually spotting a booth to the right of us and dragged me towards it. “Get under the table and make the call Adrianna, do not leave this spot. I will be back to get you.”
I nodded in response. He bent his head and kissed my lips lightly before nodding towards the table. I got down on my knees and crawled under the table, brought my knees to my chest and peered back at Anthony. Once he was satisfied with my position, he gave me a short nod and began to straighten up.
“Anthony!” I called out, finding my voice.
He bent down again and looked under the table at me.
“Please be careful,” I pleaded.
“I’ll be back,” he promised and then he was gone.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
My hands shook as I navigated Anthony’s phone and called Jack. I held one hand over the ear that wasn’t occupied by the phone so I could hear better and then his voice boomed over the phone.
“Just about to go in, brother,” he barked into the phone.
“Jack! It’s Adrianna, Anthony’s … Victor’s daughter,” I spoke frantically into the phone. “We’re in trouble; people are shooting inside of the club. Anthony said to call you.”
“Fuck!” He paused and I thought I had lost the call but then he spoke again. “I’m on my way,” he said before disconnecting the call. I held Anthony’s phone in my hand and crawled out from under the table to see if I could see Anthony or my father.
A haze blinded my eyes, smoke filling my lungs from the gunpowder making it hard to do anything other than close my eyes and cough. The gunfire grew louder, the shots ringing quicker, making me think either more shooters had showed up, or they were much closer than I had figured. I worried for my family, knowing that my mother and sister were out there somewhere.
My mother hadn’t left my father’s side all night. I assumed he had taken care of her but I didn’t even know where Nikki was and instantly regretted that I had left her on the dance floor. What if she had gotten caught up in the crossfire? I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.
I made my way out from underneath the table, crawling on all fours, afraid to stand up because bullets whizzed through the air. There were bodies lying all over the place, half of them may have been dead the other half prayed they didn’t die. I lifted my head, barely able to see more than a few feet in front me. Searching the room my eyes found my father near one of the bars.
He stood on top of the bar, a gun in each hand, firing both of them simultaneously at different targets. He looked like a mad man shooting at his enemies with the grimmest expression I had ever seen on his face. I had always known that my father was capable of some pretty fucked up shit but I had never seen him in action. He was a stone cold killer. His eyes held no remorse as he took another life.
I was taken aback by the image my father painted, distracting me from everything else going on around me. A body fell to the ground before me, blood pouring from the chest of a man I had never seen before. I screamed at the top of my lungs as he grabbed my wrist and tried to speak. I stared into his eyes as blood poured out the corner of his mouth and then he became perfectly still. He was dead and his eyes were still open staring back at me. A shrill sound escaped my mouth, and I knew that I’d always remember those eyes, that they would haunt me until I died.
I placed my shaking hand over his eyes and closed his eyelids, pulled my hand back and made the sign of the cross. I didn’t know if he was one of the good guys or one of the bad guys, or if there was a distinct difference, but he was a human being and his life had just been taken from him. He belonged to someone, was somebody’s son or maybe someone’s father, but whoever he belonged to would never see him again.
I peeled my eyes from his face and found the gun he was holding in his hand had fallen to the floor. My hand trembled as it closed over the weapon, carefully holding it, wondering if I could ever find the will to pull the trigger.
I turned my head, staring into the destruction and shouted. “Nikki!” Tears streamed down my cheeks, as I feared I’d never see my sister again. “Nikki!” I cried out again. “Dear God, please let her be okay…please.”
It was then, with my hand steady on the gun, I knew that if I had to kill someone to save someone I loved I would do it.