You're Going To Be Okay.

                                        

                                              
CHAPTER: 31
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Angel. 
The second I stepped out of the diner, I didn't run, because running would raise suspicion and suspicion would get me dead.
Instead, I walked casually. 
My hand patted the side of my pants just once, and when my fingers brushed against the cold weight of my sidearm tucked into its holster, I exhaled in relief. 
I kept walking unhurriedly and the guy in the hoodie wasn't in a rush either, it seemed. He turned the corner ahead and I followed, closing the distance between us slowly enough not to catch his eye.
The corner he turned led into an alley which looked like it belonged in a horror movie. There was cracked concrete everywhere, with dumpsters overflowing, and the faint smell of piss and something burnt lingering in the air. 
Two homeless guys passed a joint in the far corner, their eyes hollow and unseeing. A third one lay asleep against a rusted pipe, oblivious to his surroundings.
The man in the hoodie slowed, then he stopped to speak to another guy who was taller and broader than him. He was probably a local muscle. 
I used the opportunity to close in, shifting my weight forward, preparing to confront him when someone stepped into my path from the shadows. 
I had been so fixated on the hoodie that I didn't hear him approach. I didn't even sense him at all, which was a rookie mistake.
"What you lookin' for?" he asked, voice low and tight.
Shit.
The guy in the hoodie stopped talking and glanced up.
"I'm here to buy some product," I said smoothly, letting my tone drop into something lazier and less polished.
The man facing me didn't move but his gaze dropped to my tailored slacks, crisp shirt, and clean boots.
"You come here dressed like that?" he asked, not even pretending to believe what I said.
Fuck.
My mind was already moving faster than my feet. I cursed myself for not changing after leaving the office. Rookie mistake number two.
But then, it wasn't like I thought I was going to be doing this.
I glanced up and just like that, the guy in the hoodie turned and bolted.
"Hey!" I snapped, lunging forward.
The guy in my way moved to block me, but I shoved past him, my shoulder slamming hard into his chest.
I tore down the alley after the runner, my boots slamming into wet pavement. He turned sharply down a narrower passage between buildings, and I followed without thinking.
That turned out to be a big mistake because the moment I turned the corner, I saw four of them, maybe five, standing like shadows in the dark.
I skidded to a halt and tried to step back but one of them moved first, drawing a gun fast.
"Wait—" I started, raising both hands. "Let's not—"
The muzzle glinted under the dim alley light as I kept backing up. One step. Two. Three—
But then he twitched and I turned, running away. Before I could turn the corner, pain exploded through my left shoulder as the bullet hit me.
I gritted my teeth in pain but I didn't stop running. I burst out of the alley with my lungs burning, and my left arm was already slick with blood.
I could hear them behind me, cursing and yelling as they gave chase but I didn't turn back to look. 
My car was already in sight and with just a few more steps, I yanked the door open with my good arm, threw myself behind the wheel, and slammed my palm into the ignition button.
The engine roared to life and I was gone, driving like a mad man, but I was not out of danger yet.
Because I checked my mirrors and they were right there, piling into a dark van behind me, their headlights flaring to life as they gave pursuit.
Fuck.
Blood dripped from my fingers to the gear shift, and my vision blurred at the edges but I couldn't stop.
I was bleeding out terribly and I could die, but I needed to go somewhere safe first. 
***
City traffic actually saved my life. The thugs giving chase must've hit a red light or lost track of me somewhere between 3rd and Lexington, because when I glanced in the rearview mirror again, I couldn't find the van.
I sighed in relief but was short lived as I felt a throbbing ache in my arm, pulsing along to the beat of my heart.
I exhaled shakily, the sound catching in my throat. My head felt too heavy for my neck, and the edges of my vision were fogged with black smudges that kept creeping closer every second.
I couldn't go back to the Bureau, not like this. I couldn't be bleeding all over the floors like a fucking rookie.
And how would I even explain it?
Hey, Cyrus, I chased a lead without backup, without logging it, without authorization and I almost got my brains painted across a wall for it.
Yeah. That would go over real well.
The nearest hospital was fifteen, maybe twenty minutes away, and it would be longer than that with traffic. It was too far. 
At this point, my fingers were already numb and slick with blood, and I could feel the loss of pressure in my chest.
If I could just get home, I could fix it. I'd stitched myself up before, so this wouldn't be the first time.
I stepped on the gas and started weaving through lanes, my teeth clenching as every bump in the road sent white-hot pain racing through my shoulder.
By the time I reached my street, I was barely seeing straight. My shirt was soaked through on the left side and it stuck to my chest.
I parked haphazardly, the tires screeching as I swerved too close to the curb but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I had to get inside.
I shoved the car door open, stumbled out on unsteady legs, and nearly fell face-first into the ground.
"Come on," I muttered to myself. "Just a few more steps."
The keys were in my pocket and I pulled them out with shaking fingers, clutching them tightly.
I made it to the landing, blinking hard as my breathing came out in short, labored bursts.
But as I tried to open the door, my fingers slipped and the keys fell.
"No... No, no, no."
I bent down to grab them, but my knees buckled beneath me. My legs gave way and I hit the floor hard, the concrete rough and cold against my cheek.
I was losing consciousness and for the first time since the death of my father, I was scared for my life. 
I kept trying to keep my eyes open, blinking hard and that's when I saw eyes staring down at me. And not just any eyes, but blue familiar ones.
I opened my mouth to speak, or maybe to scream—I wasn't sure which one.
But then, arms wrapped around me and I heard him say, "You're going to be okay."
Then, everything went black.


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