Ignoring the gunfire ringing out all around us, we get to making our escape rope. It’s actually Heaven who provesshe’s good at knots that will, if needed, support our weight. Apparently, she was a Girl Scout back in the day, even though Star snorts and says it’s more to do with something called Shibari. Whatever, Jenni and I simply shrug and let them get on with it. When the rope is complete, we get it fastened to the bed and ready to throw out the window, which we don’t open yet, not wanting the enemy to use our means of escape as their easy way in. We don’t even lift the blinds in case anyone is looking.
It’s when we stand back, admiring our handiwork, Jenni suddenly says, “There’s only sporadic firing.” I look up and realise she’s right. Whatever’s happening is coming to an end. But there’s no relief on any of our faces. If anything, the situation has gotten more tense.
The adrenaline that had powered me suddenly drains away, leaving me weak. The thought that the Kings may not be the victors has me sinking to the floor, pulling Trip into my arms, and now it’s me rocking him. Out of the side of my eye, I see Jenni hugging Alice Jane, Cathy regarding the door anxiously, and Ace pacing. The four club girls are huddled together, nervously muttering to each other.
A couple more gunshots ring out, and then it’s silence, which is all but deafening. Suppressing a sob, I hold my son tighter.
I’m hyperventilating by the time I hear a rattling at the door. It’s followed by a deep voice. “Mom, it’s me. Let me in.”
“Jenni? You and Alice Jane okay in there?”
Another voice sends a rush of elation through me. “Bron? Trip? Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m here,” I shout out. “Give us a moment to get the door open.”
“Fucking told you this was a waste of time,” Cathy grunts as she joins us. This time, the club girls also help as we start to move the obstacle from in front of the door. For a moment, we’renot all pushing in the right direction, but once we get sorted, the heavy chest of drawers moves.
“What the fuck’s going on in there?” Words calls out, his deep, melodious voice not sounding controlled for once
“Calm your tits, boy,” Cathy screams back.
The piece of furniture has now been moved sufficiently to open the door.
Words and Paint barge in, each going to their family, and the club girls stream out, while Short seems frozen to the spot, staring at me as if he never expected to see me again. In the background, I hear Jenni exclaiming at the blood on her brother’s head, but I’m focused on my man, my eyes narrowing at the blood on his sleeve, his pinched look, and the way his left arm hangs awkwardly. But he’s standing, he’s breathing, and nothing stops my feet from moving and running to him.
He clasps me, holding me tight as though he’s never going to let me go. But then he staggers back as something knocks into him.
It’s Trip, and he’s saying, “Dada, Dada,” over and over again. Short leans down and, using his good arm to wrap around him, includes him in our embrace.
I’m only vaguely aware that while it appears Paint, Jenni, and Alice Jane are staying in the room, Cathy’s squeezing past us and moving out the door. She pauses to punch Short in the arm. “Been telling her she could do better. She’d make a good ol’ lady for Words.”
Said man’s eyes widen toward his mom, then he shoots a worried look toward Short, who tenses.
I laugh at her and reassure him, “Sorry, Words, but Short’s the man for me.”
“Thank fuckin’ God,” Words says. With a roll of his eyes, he pulls his mother away.
Putting me at arm’s length, Short’s eyes fill with emotion. “Bronwyn, we’ve got casualties…”
The nurse inside me takes over. “Starting with you.” I flick a look behind me. “And Paint. Lead the way, Short. Show me what medical supplies you have, and I’ll treat you, him, and any others that need me as best as I can.” I turn to the huddle by the bed. Trip’s looking like he could fall asleep any moment, and to be honest, Alice Jane looks much the same. “Jenni, would you mind watching over Trip for me?”
Most of the stress lines that lined her face during the fighting have now disappeared, although some still remain. She looks tired herself as she turns to me and makes a shooing motion my way. “You go where you’re needed. Alice Jane and I have got him, okay?” She sends a soft look my son’s way. He’s rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Come here, Trip. I reckon we’re all tired and could do with some sleep.”
Putting a little pressure on his back, I point him her way.
And, as luck would have it, he goes back into the room.
