“It’s not you, Graham. I’m sure of it. Besides my dad, you’re one of the best there is. He probably just realised that college wasn’t something he wanted anymore.” He hugs me tighter, placing a kiss to the top of my head. “Graham, what happened that night? At the warehouse?”
His body stiffens. “Amy…”
“I need to know. Please.” The not knowing about my dad’s death is killing me. My mind swirls with endless different ways he could have died. Did he suffer? Was it quick and painless? It’s slowly eating away at me and it’s driving me insane. I guess I just need a little closure.
He sighs deep, releases me and moves to sit in the chair opposite the car. “We’d been waiting to move on a local gang for some time. Donovan, the ringleader, is a tough, nasty bastard and these guys know how to avoid getting caught. That night we got a tip off that a drug deal was going down at some warehouse and that they were a part of it. Your dad and I were the first there, but while we waited for backup, shots were fired inside and we headed in. We nailed a couple of guys, and somewhere along the line me and your dad were separated. I looked all over and couldn’t find him, and it wasn’t until it was all over that I found him. He… he was already gone.”
A cry lodges itself in my throat at the image in my brain of my dad being shot, never seeing it coming.
“He didn’t suffer,” Graham continues, “at least I don’t think, unlike the bastard that killed him. When I get my hands on him…” He grits his teeth in anger and frustration. “I just feel so damn guilty.”
“What happened wasn’t your fault, Graham.”
“Yeah it was. He was my partner, we were supposed to protect each other… and I failed him.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t see it that way. You couldn’t have known, Graham. Please don’t feel guilty, Dad wouldn’t want you to.” I reach for him and take his hand in mine. He looks up and smiles softly.
“Who is this gang anyway?”
“They’re not like a gang you’re probably thinking. They don’t hang about on street corners, smoking weed and dealing coke. They’re clever, sophisticated. They’re into drugs, running guns… you name it, they’re into it, and they hide what they do through legitimate businesses. We’re watching them, waiting for a slip up so we can find a way to bring them down.”
“Did this Donovan guy kill my dad?”
“No. He gets his goons to do all his dirty work, it was one of his guys. Don’t know who.” My jaw tightens, hoping that whoever it was that killed my dad, meets a slow and painful death.
“Amy,” Graham squeezes my hand, “don’t worry about them. We’ll get them one day. I promise.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “Come on, let’s go back inside.”
∞∞∞
That night, I can’t sleep. I toss and turn all night, unable to switch off my mind, but when sleep does eventually find me, it’s restless. The same image playing over in my head. I’m stood at the back of a dark room where my dad is on his knees in the centre, surrounded by half a dozen men who tower over him, the dark shadow of a man steps up behind him and draws his gun, aiming it at my dad’s head. The sound of the safety clicking off echoes through the room and the sound of the gun shot has me jerking bolt upright in my bed, tears staining both my cheeks and my pillow, my entire body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
My heart is pounding out of my chest, my eyes heavy as I glance around my darkened bedroom, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside which filter through the small crack in my curtains.
I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom, filling a tumbler of water from the tap and taking a sip. I peer at my reflection in the mirror, dark circles hang under my tired eyes and my hair is matted from all the restlessness.
I keep hearing my dad’s voice in my head, hearing his words that he wrote in that letter, telling me not to cry anymore. But it’s easier said than done. Ineedhim. For two months now, I’ve had moments where I’ve called for him, or gone to tell him something, only to realise that he’s no longer here, and each time my heart breaks a little more.
As much as I want to fulfill his wish, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop crying.
I head back into my room, picking up a random book from my bookshelf and move to lie on my stomach in the centre of my bed. I try to read, to focus on the words as my eyes glide over the pages, but I can’t concentrate.
It’s not long before I begin to feel the heaviness in my eyelids as sleep drags me back under.
Chapter 5
Amy
The next day, I decide to go and visit Quinn. I haven’t seen in her in weeks and I’ve missed her like crazy. Even while I was away, she made a habit of calling or face timing me every day without fail to check in and make sure that I was alright. It was a comfort to know that even far away, she was there for me. I’ve never had that before.
Quinn’s front door swings open and I’m dragged inside, and immediately pulled into her arms. I rest my chin on her shoulder as we hold each other, not speaking, just hugging.
There’s nothing to be said. She knows exactly how I’m feeling. She’s been through it all herself. Twice. In truth, I don’t need her to say anything, just having my best friend to hold me is enough.
When she finally pulls back, she smiles at me sadly and leads me into the living room.
“Hey, Amy. How are you?” Dwight asks with a smile as he sits on the couch by the window.
“I’m okay. Thanks, Dwight.” I smile back.
