Boomtown (29 page)

  I didn’t even hesitate.  I plopped my fat ass down into his lap, wrapping one of my arms around his neck.

  “And what do you want for Christmas?” Santa asked me. 

  I glanced over at Sam who was watching me with a smile on his face.  He was so handsome.  I didn’t know what I did to deserve him, but I thanked God every day for him.  He was wearing a red t-shirt, worn denim jeans, and black combat boots.   

  I turned back to the fake Santa and said “I just wanted to sit in your lap.  My husband made a sarcastic comment asking if I was going to sit in your lap, so I decided to do it.”

  Santa laughed, gestured with his head and asked “Is that him?”  

  “Yep.” I said. 

  We spoke for a few more minutes, took a picture and then I headed back over to Sam who had just gone to pay for the tree.  I walked up next to him in line and wrapped my arm around him. 

  “I’m hungry.” I said to him handing him the picture of Santa and me. 

  He looked at the picture and smiled, and then stuffed it into his back pocket.  He paid for the tree, and we walked back to the truck, grabbing the tree on the way.

  “Are you going to try to put the tree on top of the truck or inside?” I asked him.

  “On top.  And it’s a SUV not a truck.” He said laughingly.

  I rolled my eyes.  This was a normal argument with us.  I called everything that wasn’t a car a truck, and he called everything by name, or type of vehicle it was.  I explained to him that in Texas that was how we talked, we weren’t much for correctness down here.  He said that was just weird.  I told him that he was weird since he was from up North. 

  “Are we going to get into this discussion again, really?” I asked him. 

  “Yep.” He said, popping the p. 

  “Fine.  What are your arguments today?” I asked him. 

  “A coke, is a coke.  Not any type of soft drink.” Sam said.

  “Listen up.  A coke is a coke.  But it could also be a Dr. Pepper.  Just because you don’t like how things are laid down here, doesn’t mean you can tease me about it.  Just suck it up.  When I ask you to get me a coke, you, in turn, need to ask me what type of coke.  Just do it, it will be easier.” I said to him. 

  “”Fixing to” is not correct either.  You should say” I am about to”, not “fixin’ to”.” He teased. 

  I’ve heard this one before, and not just from him.  He strapped the tree to the top of the truck, and then we headed off to get Mexican food that was just down the road from the tree farm.  We continued our argument the entire way.

  Sam snaked his hand over and grabbed mine that was resting against my enormous stomach.  He linked our fingers, and laid our hands back on top of my stomach.  The baby on my right side started kicking, and I smiled.  There wasn’t much that could make my life any better than it was right now.  Nothing could ruin this feeling.

  Or so I thought.  

Chapter 21

Tuesday-7 p.m.

CHEYENNE

  “And where is Mr. McKenzie tonight, Shamu?”  Ember asked.

  “He went for a guy’s night.  Kind of like a last night out with the guys before the babies get here.” I answered her.  

  I was folding baby clothes and putting them away in the dresser.  I washed them all with that expensive as fuck baby detergent, and then folded them all into little god damned piles.  Earlier I had packed a diaper bag, and the hospital bag.  I had been putting this off because I really hated doing laundry, and laundry I would have to do if I wanted to pack a bag.

  “That must be why all us women are supposed to be gathering here.  They said Elliott had a little cold so he will be hanging with us this evening with Blaine.  They should be here shortly, I told them to grab some pizza.” Ember said absently, picking up a tiny onesie and folding it.   

  We were almost to the end of the basket when Blaine and Elliott walked in.  Blaine was carrying a two liter of Dr. Pepper in one hand, and Mountain Dew in the other.  Since I wasn’t able to drink, they decided to go non-alcoholic tonight, just for me.   

  Elliott was carrying the pizza, and set it down on the table.  His phone must have vibrated, because he pulled it out of his pocket and scanned it, then replaced it back into his pocket.  He looked tense, almost like he and Blaine had a row before they came in.  I reminded myself to ask her later what happened. 

  We spent the next three hours laughing and watching a new romantic comedy.  Elliott was a good sport, and never once complained about our movie tastes.  I glanced at him every so often, and noticed that Blaine and Ember were also giving him curious glances.  He wasn’t acting his usual self, so either he was upset, or he was sicker than he was letting on.  It wasn’t normal for him to be so distant.  He was usually the life of the party, and always had a joke to say, but tonight he was just so serious. 

  Periodically he would take his phone out of his pocket, scan it, and then replace it again.  I wondered if he was keeping in touch with Sam, because that was something that he would do.  I however didn’t receive one text message, and I was beginning to worry.  It wasn’t normal for him to go more than an hour.  He was always so worried that I would go into labor.  I only had four weeks left, and the doctor said it was normal for twin pregnancies to happen anywhere from thirty two to thirty eight weeks. 

  Since I was on my thirty sixth week, it could be anytime, and since the babies were both in breech position I would be getting a C-section in two more weeks if something didn’t happen before then. 

  We were on our second movie when I started to get a very bad feeling that something horrible was wrong.  I just didn’t feel right.

SAM

11:09 P.M.

  “He’s here.  Walking around west side.  He should be at your door in two minutes or less.” Jack said through my earpiece. 

  “Copy.” I whispered.  “Follow the plan.”

   I waited in the shadows casted by the street lamp that ran along the outer edge of the warehouse.  The door that Malcolm was supposed to be entering was to the right of where I was standing. Two minutes came and went, and I was just about to confirm with Jack again when Malcolm cautiously entered through the door.   

  According to the rookie cop that we interrogated, Malcolm would head for the room straight in front of him, and await him.  Tonight Malcolm was in for an ugly surprise.   

  Malcolm strode across the floor, and was entering the room when I made it up behind him.  I had my .45 in my hand, and had it pointed at the back of his head before I spoke.

  “Hello, Malcolm.  Long time no see.” I said to him. 

  At the sound of my voice he froze.  It took him all of three seconds before he came unstuck and reached for his gun that was in a shoulder holster underneath his arm. 

  “Stop.” I said to him.  “Hands up.”

  Malcolm raised his hands above his head just as Max’s voice crackled in my ear.

  “Bogie.  Coming in hard on right side.” Max growled into the earpiece. 

  “Two more coming in on the right.” James said about his end.

  “Take them out.” I said to them.

  I heard agreements, but no gunshots.  My men didn’t need weapons to get the job done.  We didn’t want to alert anyone to what we were doing, and if there were any gun shots, then we would have the cop’s attention since there were other businesses nearby, with a steady pedestrian population.

  “Well, well, well.  If it isn’t Mr. Perfect!  How is that sweet woman doing?  The babies thriving?” he said viciously.

  One after the other, Jack, Gabe, James, and Max reported that their men were down.  They were to stay outside until we had more info on who else would be joining this meeting.  The rookie didn’t have a clue, so we were playing it safe and monitoring the outside just in case.

  “On your knees, spread them wide.” I said to him calmly.

  He dropped to his knees and spread them as far apart as he could.  His hands stayed behind his head.  I walked up behind him and withdrew his gun from his holster, placing it into the small of my back in the waist band of my jeans.  My own gun I kept in my hand and patted him down with the other.  I was just pulling out his thirty eight from his ankle holster when I his head fell forward and he twisted and tried to take out my knee. 

  I twisted out of his way in time for his elbow to just brush my knee.  His body fell off balance and fell face first, catching himself on his hands.  His hand fisted, and then the next thing I felt were granules of dirt being thrown into my face.  I got my arm up in time to deflect the sand from one eye, but not the other. 

   My eyes started to water, but I watched intently to see his next move.  I was spoiling for a fight, and I just needed a legitimate reason to give to the police for killing him.   He charged up from the floor and barreled into my legs, taking me down onto the ground with him.  I let him take me down, because the cameras that were recording us needed to see him make the first move. 

 He got in one punch before I took over.  I let out all of my aggression by punching him over and over in the face.  By the time James pried me off of him, he was barely recognizable.  His face was a bloody mess, and I relished in the fact that he may have a crushed cheek bone and eye socket on his left side.  Max walked up to him and kicked him in the ribs, and then bent down to get what information he could out of him.

  “Got him, Cap.” James said to me. 

  I shook off his hold, and moved further away from him, standing next to the door.  I could hear the sirens and crunch of tires pulling up outside on the gravel, and I wanted to make sure I was far away from him when the cops finally made it inside.

  Once the cops were in it became a flurry of activity.  The other men who were outside were loaded up into the cruisers with guards standing sentry watching over them. 

  Malcolm was given medical treatment by the paramedics, and then loaded up onto a stretcher.  I watched him cautiously, because I felt he was really laying it on thick with the paramedics.  I hadn’t hurt him so badly that he couldn’t walk, and knew that he was up to something. 

  Just as I was about to inform the young cop that he should cuff him to the gurney Malcolm reacted with a flurry and had the cop’s gun in no time flat.  He pulled the smaller of the paramedics in front of him, and had the gun pointed at her temple.  Everyone around him backed off to give him some room when he demanded it.

  I had my .45 out and pointed at his head, just like everyone else was doing. Unfortunately I didn’t have a shot.  Malcolm pulled the young woman in front of him just right, and put his back to the open bay doors of the ambulance.   

  “Let her go.” I demanded of Malcolm.

  “You are not ruining this for me.  I go out my way.” Malcolm replied. 

  One of the younger cops started to make a move to Malcolm’s right, and instead of Malcolm taking his gun and pointing it at the cop, he turned the gun and pointed it straight at me, smiled and fired.  I heard another gun discharge at almost the same instant, but it was too late for me. 

  In the seconds before the gun fired, I locked my eyes with Malcolm, but didn’t see him.  There were over fifteen people in the open area in front of the warehouse, but I didn’t see them.  I was seeing Cheyenne’s eyes.  I was seeing two fat chubby little girls with golden ringlets surrounding their smiling faces. I was seeing Cheyenne walking down the aisle.  I knew I wasn’t going to make it, and I prayed harder than I ever have prayed before.  

  I felt the bullet slam into my neck, and it threw me off of my feet.  I landed on the ground, but didn’t feel the impact.  I tried to raise my hands to my throat, but my arms wouldn’t cooperate.  Warm blood was running down the sides of my neck and into the hair at my nape.  I closed my eyes, and opened them again to see Max standing above me.  He was saying something to me, but my mind didn’t comprehend.  I watched as there was a flurry of activity around me, but slowly I lost the ability to keep my eyes open.  I was so tired. 

JAMES

11:47 P.M.

  Jack, Gabe, Max and I were standing at the end of the hall nearest the operating room door when Cheyenne came running in.  I turned and watched her come.  My heart hurt for her.  Ember and Elliott were at her side making sure she didn’t fall, but she only had eyes for me.  Her face was tear stained, and she was shaking like a leaf.  I opened my arms when she got close and she hit me with such force that I had to take a step back.  I wrapped my arms around her and held her rocking slowly.

  “How is he?” she said into my chest.

  “He lost a lot of blood, honey.” I said to her.  ”He was shot in the upper chest, through his clavicle.  It nicked an artery, but we got to him quick-“ 

  Cheyenne suddenly lost her footing and would have fallen to the floor but I was able to catch her.  I looked down, but her eyes were rolling back into her head. 

  “Cheyenne!” I screamed.  

  She was taken from me and laid down on the floor; nurses were all running to us, asking what was going on.  A doctor that was at the nurse’s station came and dropped down to his knees, a gurney being pushed by another nurse following slowly behind.  They loaded her onto the gurney and I watched as a second person that I dearly loved was taken away from me.

  My head hung and I noticed that I was kneeling in another pool of blood.  Now I was wearing Cheyenne’s and Sam’s blood on my clothes.  I pulled myself together and stood.  Everyone was standing around like they weren’t quite sure what the hell to do.  I turned to Max who had his hands clasped above his head a look of shock on his face. 

  “I’m going to go with her.  Keep me updated.” I said to him. 

  He nodded that he understood, and I took off in the direction that they had taken her.  The floor we were on was the emergency surgery floor, and they had taken her back to the only open operating room that was available according to the nurses that were left at the nurse’s station.  She led me around the corner parked me right outside the operating room door.