Manner of Death

Chapter 2

Christian endures hours of mockery and taunting from his coworker the next day, however, no comment seems to be mentioned about his kissing companion. Which, Christian supposes, is a good thing. Tonight is an important night for him, for everyone involved in the hospital really. Tonight is the annual dinner party that allows for all the important sections of the town to congregate; police department, hospital, sports, donors- they will all be there. 

Most people are delighted to be invited to this sort of thing, not Christian. Christian has been dreading this dinner since he received his invitation earlier this year. Dinner parties mean recognition, recognition means media attention, media attention means interviews and televised programs, and televised programs mean too many people digging into a past Christian is desperate to keep hidden. Christian's entire life has revolved around burying that past, taking on new identities and avoiding staying anywhere as one person for too long. 

~

Christian enters the banquet- suit, tie and all. He shuffles around for a minute, looking for people of his hospital or anyone to acquaint himself with for the night. An arm loops through his, almost catching him off guard. Christian squints, glancing down at the petite girl by his side. 

"Doctor Jenkins, would you be as kind to escort me inside?" she says, offering him a wide smile. 

Soraya D'Angelo; paramedic and a very dear friend to Christian since he begun his life in Phoenix Ridge. Christian shrugs, the corners of his lips pulling into a thin line. They walk into the party, arm in arm. 

"Always so serious," Soraya whispers, patting Christian's chest teasingly. 

"I have to be," Christian replies. "Otherwise, I would be dead by now." 

Soraya laughs quietly, only because she doesn't know the truth behind his statement. He allows this ignorance, letting someone in only results in his own pain. The two friends move farther into the room, only separating to sit at their assigned tables. Movement close to Soraya's table catches Christian's eye, Derek Zenebio slips into the seat beside her. 

For a second, and for a second only, Christian's chest begins to constrict. His lungs fight the messages inside his mind telling him to breathe. He feels the beat of his heart increase, like that of a drum before a war commences. Christian's mind screams at him to run, to grab his shit and get the hell out of dodge. Christian knows Derek could only be there for one reason. Yet, when Derek looks over the table at him, his eyes move straight past Christian. Not a flicker of recognition inside of them. It's probable that Derek has no idea who Christian is. This is very probable indeed, Christian thinks to himself. 

Derek Zenebio, brother of Erik Zenebio, heir of the Mafia. Christian has ever met the brothers once. He remembers it quite well; Catalina had needed new identities for herself and Christian, about two years prior to Christian Jenkins showing up in Phoenix Ridge. Derek had arranged for the identities to be made. Catalina was going to pay in cash, but Derek and Erik's father had other ideas for their payment method. If Christian could beat Erik in a fight, their identities would be created. However, an accidental injury quickly led to Catalina reconsidering their repayment. So, a different option was given: either Christian fought Erik or Catalina would be wedded to him. Catalina was engaged, they were married, and Cristo Dello'Russo was created. 

A year later, Catalina ran from Roki. She had reason to believe that her and Christian's parents had found them, which led her into tracking down her younger brother. She found Cristo at the crappy, rundown, shit motel he was living in; drunk, high, and paranoid. He had locked himself inside his motel bathroom, terrified that their parents were going to burst through the door at any given moment. The next morning, once Cristo had come down from his high, she had beat the shit out of him for letting his guard down. They left the motel later that afternoon, taking on new identities and heading for a new city. But things didn't go to plan. 

Their parents had found them. Their parents' men tailed them all through downtown, speeding up only when they had reached outside of the city's limits. Bullets were shot through the back and front windshields, the car race continued until Catalina had bled out in the driver's seat beside him. He quickly grabbed the wheel, yanking it to regain control of the car, quickly spinning out of it. In the end, the car spun until it crashed through the railing of the bridge, sending them hurtling towards the ocean below. 

Christian doesn't know how he survived the fall, doesn't even recall how he got out of the car in the first place. What he does remember is the sound of car metal screeching as it slams into bridge railing, the sound of the rubber on the tires catching fire from being pushed into the ground so hard, and the feeling of water imploding the car around him. Christian remembers the water consuming his lungs, the pressure on his head, and his screams that were torn from his chest on the way down. He remembers the windows shattering, the glass floating around them. And he remembers the way his sister's body looked; how sickly white it had turned, the way it floated in the water around him, and her bright, fiery red hair that seemed to glow in the dark ocean. 

Cristo died in that car accident. Finally, Christian Jenkins came to life. He arrived in Phoenix Ridge almost six months after his sister's death, taking on a new persona and rebuilding his life in the small town. Legally, Christian should not have been allowed to become a pathologist at the hospital. He was only nineteen, after all. But years of being taught and trained by his crime family's tutors, being on the run from said crime family, and time spent trapped inside of motel rooms later- he had already gone through what most adults still hadn't. He's been through countless online courses; ranging from medical to law, sciences, mathematics, fighting techniques, and languages. 

Technically, Christian had the credits. He just didn't have the age requirements. After months of careful consideration, a four-week training program followed by a two-week probationary period, Christian was accepted as a Pathologist at the Phoenix Ridge Memorial Hospital. 

Glass rings through his ears, drawing Christian's attention back to the night at hand. Derek sits beside Soraya, hand resting comfortably on her chair. A blonde stands behind him, carefully relaxed against the wall and looking extremely bored with the events that have unfolded. Christian glances at the blonde, now suddenly aware of how drunk he was last night. Somehow, as if knowing he had an audience, the blonde looks up, catching Christian's stare. 

~

"You bastard," Soraya swears, slapping Erik straight across the face. "How dare you!"

"I only did what was necessary," Erik says, his voice raising to a shout. "You agreed to it, remember?"

"I..." Soraya trails off. 

"You son of a bitch," Derek shouts, his fist colliding with the side of Erik's jaw. 

"Oo, I wouldn't do that," the blonde says, shaking his finger in Erik's face and chuckling to himself as he stands between the brothers. 

"Move. This is between me and my brother," Erik says, stepping closer to Derek. Derek casts his eyes to the floor, quickly growing rigid in his stance in front of Soraya. 

"Derek's unavailable, how about you talk to me instead?" the blonde returns, fixing Erik with a wicked grin and knives in both hands.