“I’m going to see about your friend, okay?” The guy nods and I start to move away. When I get to Joe, I tell the people around him that I have some medical training, and I instruct them to make sure someone calls 9-1-1. This one looks really bad. Joe is looking at me. I can tell he’s in shock. “Hi Joe. You may not be feeling a lot of pain because of the adrenaline going through your body, but you have some injuries that I am going to attempt to treat before the medics get here. Okay? I need you to stay with me and fight it if you feel like you are falling sleep. Okay? Joe nods. He is bleeding profusely from a gash on his thigh, and I’m afraid that he has nicked a femoral artery, judging by the amount of blood coming out. I also see a thick stick of wood stabbing him under one side of his ribs, and minor scrapes all over his exposed skin. He must have been caught by every branch rolling down to the bottom of the ditch after flying out of the golf cart. “Hey, Joe, you have a cut on your thigh that is bleeding and I’m going to try to stop it. Okay? Now Joe, while I’m doing this, I want you to talk to me and answer a few questions, is that all right? Think you can do that?” Joe nods. “What day of the week is today?” I don’t want to move Joe in any way, so I take the edge of my shirt and with a sigh, pull it over my head leaving myself wearing a tank top. “Saturday.” “What is your favorite football team, Joe?” In one swift motion, I rip the shirt to get what I need and hastily fold it over a few times and start applying pressure over the wound. The blood is seeping through the shirt fast. This is not looking good. “Ocean Tides…” “You are doing great Joe. What is your full given name?” I signal a guy to come over and continue to apply pressure. I need to treat him with a tourniquet, to try to stop the bleeding or he will fade away quickly. I stand up and look for a solid long enough branch, when I spot one of the canopy’s wooden supports inside the cart. I go get it. “Joseph Michael Russo.” I hear him whisper. The canopy support is too long, so use my knee to break it to the right size. I hear a few people gasping. Joe closes his eyes. “Joe! Stay with me, Joe. Russo is an Italian name. Are you Italian?” I grab a hold of the t-shirt of the guy putting pressure on Joe’s cut, and without any warning, I rip it off of him. His eyebrows draw together and he cuts his eyes in my direction. Before he can say anything, I mouth the words “I’m sorry” and keep doing what I need to do. “My dad is.” “Well, Joe. Italian men are stubborn, so I need you to fight to stay awake. Okay?” I rip the shirt into a long piece and I start to wrap it a few inches above the bleeding gash on Joe’s thigh. I am able to wrap it around three times – this is good. “I’m not stubborn, but I’m so tired.” “If you go to sleep on me, I’m going to take a sharpie and write all over your face. I’m going to draw hearts and rainbows and unicorns and it will take days for it to go away and you are going to have to walk around campus like that – what do you say now?” I tie the material in a half knot and place the piece of wood on top of it and then I tie a full knot on top of the wood. “You are not being nice… Pretty girls are supposed to be nice…” “Not with stubborn Italian men, we are not supposed to be nice. When was the last time you visited home?” Here comes the fun part. I start twisting the stick over and over, like a bottle does when you play “Spin the Bottle” with your friends. I twist until I can’t twist any more. I wrap the loose ends of the shirt around each end of the stick and tuck them under the makeshift bandage. I hear Joe laugh softly. “You are pretty and funny.” I pull the other guy’s hand away from the wound so I can check on the bleeding. It is slowing down. I shift my attention to the stick coming out of his side. It is protruding out of the right lumbar region or his left side torso. Those anatomy classes are paying off! The main organ that could be threatened there is the large intestine. Which means they should be able to repair it in the hospital, if it’s punctured, as soon as he gets there. “Okay Joe, I think you are going to make it. You’ve got a stick poking out of your side, but I don’t think is piercing anything important. The doctors will be able to evaluate better when you get to the hospital.” I hear sirens in the background and I lift my head. I realize people are watching and filming the entire scene with their phones. Fuck! They start clapping, but it does not make me any more comfortable that my face is going to be out there for anyone to see. “What’s your name?” Joe is asking me. “I rather not say, but now I really, really have to go.” “Don’t leave me, please.” “You are not alone, Joe. You will be okay.” I start moving away, trying to use my hair to cover my face. I climb up the ravine using the broken branches and rocks as hand-holds and stepping stones. Ciara and Keagan meet me on the top and help me up. I look at Ciara and know that she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I’ve got to get out of here – right this fucking minute!” I tell her in a low voice. “I know.” She says with a worried look. “Here are the car keys. It will be easier to get lost if you are alone. I will stay with Keagan and will try to do damage control. We will get a ride. Go. Go!” I take her keys and nod at her before I start moving through the crowd with my face down. Some of them are tapping my shoulders as I weave through them. As soon as I get cleared from the crowd, I start to run. Running. Always running. This is the last time I’m running away in order to save myself. This time I am strong. This time I am ready. Bring it on Jesse. I am waiting for your ass to show up. Brianna After leaving campus, I rush home to shower and clean up. Why did I have to go help those guys? They were being assholes anyway. Well, I guess they are just young and stupid. They did not deserve to die, and Joe would have most definitely been a goner, had I not treated his wounds. He was bleeding too much. I take my bloody and dirty clothes off and I stuff them in a trash bag. Hell, I have to get rid of my shoes too. Damn! I really liked that pair. All clean up and dressed, I brace myself before turning on the TV. Nothing. Good. I leave the TV on and go find my laptop. Opening it, I open a browser and click to search Google. I type in “Ocean Tides football” and the hits that come up look normal. Clearing the search engine browser I type “ golf cart accident at Homecoming football game, Shoreline University ” and the few seconds that I am waiting while the hits come up feel like eternity. The page fills with links to hundreds of videos on Facebook, You Tube, and many other sites that I never knew existed. I slowly and almost painfully guide the mouse to move that tiny arrow to the “Play” button. The video starts off showing me from behind running after the golf cart, then you notice the shaky motion as the cameraman runs after me and stops on the edge of the ravine, unknowingly inflicting a death sentence upon me. These are the most excruciating five minutes of my life. I play one video after another and everything, everything , is captured. Damned digital age! If you know me, you can tell pretty much that it is me in these videos. Especially at the end when I look up directly into most of the cameras and realize a bunch of bystanders were thinking highly of themselves and trying to become famous by taking advantage of opportunity. I hear the door and run to the front of the apartment. It’s Ciara. “Hey Brianna! Are you…?” “Yes I’m fine. There is nothing on the news at the moment, but the internet is jumping with videos.” She comes towards me and hugs me tight. “What happened after I left?” “The medics took the guys in an ambulance to the hospital after they checked them. I asked which hospital, just in case we need to know. One of the medic guys was going on and on about how good and effective the tourniquet was done.” She smiles sadly at me. “I know what you are thinking. But you can’t keep hiding and running. Not this time. I know it’s selfish, but I cannot bear to lose you or not to have you in my life. And what about Colton?” I take a deep breath. Last time was indeed the last time. “Don’t worry, hon, I am not going anywhere. I am, however, going to make some tea and prepare myself for Colton’s questions, when he finds out I missed his game.” “We can still go, if you want, and catch the second half.” “I’d rather not. I have a lot to plan and think about.” “Do you need a sounding board?” Ciara asks me. A long time ago she wanted to help me carry out my plans, if I ever needed to put them into action, and I had to tell her that she was too important to me to have her get hurt in any way, and that I preferred she stayed out of it. Planning things, however, was her strong suit. So I nod my head and head to the kitchen to make some chamomile tea to calm my nerves. It strikes me as funny that instead of being at the game watching my boyfriend and friends play football and having a good time with the girls, here I am plotting possible battlegrounds, rendezvous points, escapes routes, lines of attack, necessary weaponry and targets with my best friend. Good times.
Chapter 16 Colton The game is over and I can’t wait to see Brianna. I have not seen or heard from her all day. I get out of the showers, pull on my clothes and bend down to tie my shoes, when I hear my phone ring with a text message. I smile before I reach for it because I just know that my beautiful girlfriend is letting me know she is outside waiting. Expecting to see her name, I frown realizing somebody sent me a link to a video. I press “Play” and watch. Two idiots on a golf cart are careening through tailgaters, the driver loses control and hits a canopy. The cart doesn’t stop but continues to move towards a drop off. A cliff? Or a ravine? The cart disappears over the edge and a pretty girl comes into focus. She is running after the cart. She looks familiar. Oh, shit, the girl is Brianna! Now I am glued to the tiny screen and I can’t look away – what the hell is happening here? The camera follows Brianna down into the big ass ditch and zooms in on the action as she systematically attends to the guys who have obviously been bounced out of the golf cart. I see her talking, but I can’t hear anything she says. The crowd is excited, shouting and talking, and there are too many voices drowning hers. I notice how she looks toward the second guy, who seems to be in worse shape with red splotches all over his number ‘2’ jersey and I’m pretty sure it’s blood. I back away from my locker, and when I feel the bench bump the back of my knees, I sit down slowly. I hear Traxx coming my way. “Hey, let’s go! What are you watching, dude?” I’m speechless. I motion for him to take a look. He does and sits next to me. “Holy shit! Is that Brianna?” He chimes in just as she is leaving guy number one and going to see about guy number two. Then we both watch as she takes off her shirt – my hand fists involuntarily and I slam it down on the bench next to me really hard. I notice how she is talking to the bleeding victim, and the cameraman zooms in closer. “Shit” I hear myself say out loud. “Fuck!” I hear Traxx next to me. We now have attracted the attention of every other player in the locker room. Notso comes and sits on the other side of me. Traxx continues, “Man, there is a huge stick coming out of that guy’s side! What the hell is she doing down there?” Without looking at Traxx I answer him, “Obviously she is trying to help him!” At this time she inspects the bleeding on the guy’s thigh and has one of the observing guys apply pressure with her now ruined shirt. She springs up and retrieves a stick from the torn golf cart, raising her knee, she very effectively breaks it in one swift motion. She looks at it carefully, I guess evaluating if it’ll be useful, and moves back to the bleeder. She bends over the other guy who is applying pressure to the wound, and starts to remove his shirt. All the guys behind me start talking shit. This video has everyone’s attention. Once she has the shirt, she rips it and starts wrapping it around his thigh. Although whoever is taking the video is moving a lot, it is zoomed in so tightly that we can see everything. She ties the shirt and then places the wood stick on top of that and ties a full knot on top of the stick. Then she starts to wind the stick around, patiently and as fast as possible until she can’t move it anymore, then the loose ends are used to secure the stick. Once she is finished, she briefly talks to the bleeder and gets up. Everybody starts clapping. She looks up, and the camera man captures what I know is a combination of pure panic and fear that I have never seen before on her face. She frantically moves to climb back up the sides of the ravine until she gets help from Ciara and Keagan. They talk with their heads close together, Ciara grasps Brianna’s hand and then Brianna’s gone. I ignore all the guys teasing me as I jump off of the bench and move around gathering all my shit. Something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong. I say my goodbyes amongst the cheers and jests, and walk outside. Taking a deep breath of clean air, I lamely attempt to slow my pulse and calm my nerves. I spot Keagan running towards me. I do not slow down. I can’t. “Colton, stop!” “I need to go find her.” “Colton, Ciara says everything is fine.” I begrudgingly stop. “What the hell happened?” “Those guys were being stupid and the next thing we knew the accident happened and she just reacted and went to help. Seriously, that is all.” “Naw. Nope. That’s not all. I saw the look on her face when she finally looked up. She was scared.” I see Traxx and Notso exit the building and jog toward me. “Dude! Hey, man, why are you in such a hurry?” Traxx and Notso say at once. “Where is she?” I ask Keagan. “She is at her apartment. Ciara is with her.” I turn around and stalk towards my truck. “Wait, Colton. We are coming with you!” “Then you’d better get moving!” I hear them stampede behind me. At this moment, all I want to do is find Brianna, hold her in my arms, and make sure she is safe. Brianna If you were a fly on the wall and could see me with Ciara and all the papers on the table, you would think we had lost it, and maybe we have. The table top has sheets and sheets of paper all over the place with diagrams so detailed, they are worth a place of glory in any football coach’s heart. “I think we have everything figured out.” I tell her while leaning back in my chair. “Yeap, and I am really pleased with the plan. We have everything. Location, vantage points, weapons and plans – notice the plural – of attack.” She winks at me. She really believes I am going to let her help me get rid of Jesse, but when the time comes, I want her nowhere near that monster. I don’t want to be worried about her when my head needs to be in the ‘game.’ We hear some voices coming from the hall. Colton and the gang are here. Ciara starts to pick up the drawings and stack them nice and neat in a pile inside one of the kitchen drawers, leaving only our tea mugs on the table. The anticipated knock – if you can call it that, maybe it is more like a pounding – on the door startled me, even though I was expecting it. I open the door, and see this man who has managed to breach his way into my tightly hidden and secured heart. This man who puts me on a pedestal as if I am the most important treasure he has. The man who holds me every night and tells me why I make his life better. He tells me all the things about his past, and his dreams for the future. He trusts me unconditionally, worries about my wellbeing and enjoys pleasuring me like his life depends on it. This man, who I cannot bear to put in the line of danger, and whom I will likely have to crush and push away in order to protect him. This is the man I have secretly dreamed of my entire life, but never thought I would find. This is the man that I love. I love Colton Hensley. I love Colton Hensley? This is a realization that I was not expecting. Especially with the cascade of shit that is about to come my way any minute. I don’t have much time to think about it because Colton rushes me. He hugs me tight and it feels like he is never letting go. I don’t want him to let go. I don’t want him to let me go. “Hey baby, are you okay? Somebody sent me the video of what happened.” He grabs my face between his open hands and pushes my chin up with one of his thumbs so he can see my face. His eyes move across my face, searching. I feel small, like a child who was doing something she was not supposed to be doing. And technically, I was. “Hi… Yes. I’m fine, no need to be concerned.” I wave it off like it’s no big deal and smile one of my best fake smiles. He wraps his arm around my waist and moves me to the couch. I look around at the rest of our friends that follow him inside the apartment. These people have become important to me. I haven’t let anyone in, other than Ciara, in such a long time.
We join Ciara who is pretending to watch TV in the living room, but I know for a fact she is really looking at Traxx’s solid body, wrapped in a laughable excuse for a t-shirt, because it is so tight, you can count the ripples in his abs. He must have bought that shirt in the Boys section of the department store. He is looking at her like she’s a drink of fresh cold water after a full day’s work outside in the blazing sun. I roll my eyes and decide to ignore them. “Brianna, what in the hell possessed you to go after those guys?” Notso asks me. “It was just a reaction. In the Army, I was trained to react as needed in the midst of chaos, don’t forget that. As a matter of fact I am pretty sure that I saved that guy’s life.” I say casually as I go take a sip of my tea and realize my mug’s empty. I asked the others if they want anything to drink and start to get up, when Colton stops me and looks at Traxx, who offers to go get a refill for me and whatever anyone else wants. He reaches down to the coffee table and grabs my mug, then while turning, he looks at Ciara, before heading into the kitchen. Seconds later, Ciara offers to go help him. I raise my eyebrows at her, silently telling her to tread carefully. In the meantime I am caught in the middle of a game of twenty questions. “Were you scared?” Colton asks me as he holds my hand. I squeeze his back. “Nah. I was a little nervous but not scared.” “She was so amazing, well you saw her on the video. She did not hesitate or flinch not even once. She knew exactly what to do. It was fascinating.” Keagan was the one praising me now. “It really was no biggie. Can we just stop talking about it and put it all behind us?” Distracting the others, Traxx returns carrying drinks for everyone on a tray, with Ciara trailing behind bringing a platter of grapes, crackers and cheese for everyone to munch on. “Thank God! I am starving!” Notso jumps for the crackers and cheese. Ciara smiles and tells him that she just put an extra-large combo pizza in the oven. He winks and smiles appreciatively. I reach for a couple of grapes and pop one in my mouth and the other in Colton’s mouth. I smile at him confidently and I start to think that maybe I have overreacted, when I hear Traxx voice say the words I was dreading to hear. “Shit, Brianna look, you’ve made the TV news.” We all look towards the TV and listen as the reporter reads the unwelcomed news. “In an unexpected event today before the start of the first game of the season for our very own Ocean Tide’s football team, a golf cart driver lost control of the vehicle, driving it into the crowd, taking down several tailgater’s canopies and going down a ravine. The driver, Sam Wilburn, did not sustain any significant injuries. We cannot say the same for the passenger, Joe Michael Russo, who investigators think was thrown off of the golf cart at some point, and sustained several injuries including a broken arm and a deep cut on his thigh that severed his femoral artery. Luckily for him, a female bystander sprang into action before the medics got there, effectively applying first aid for the uncontrolled bleeding. Joe Michael Russo, is the son of our city council member, John Russo, one of Pristina’s most important Criminal Attorneys. Take a look at this video interview where they make a plea for the unknown female to come forward so they can express their sincere thanks for her heroic actions.”