Too Far Gone (Urban)

38.5| Handle With Care

Chenelle paced the still room quietly muttering to herself while Raul watched her out the corner of his eye. Gat had left and called Raul to take over his shift for him despite her protest to come with. It's been nearly two hours now and neither hers nor Raul's phone rang once. Raul placed home besides hers on the table and rose from his spot on the couch.

     "Chica," Raul spoke as he grabbed her by the shoulders, "Calm down, I'm sure he's fine."

     "And if he's not?" Chenelle pouted.

     "Then he goes right next to Carlos."

She shook out of his grip and continued pacing. "Now's not the time for jokes!"

Raul rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, a sigh escaping his pink lips. "Well, I can't let you leave."

     Chenelle paused in her tracks and stared at the carpeting in deep thought. She glanced at Raul where he stood, then to his phone lying next to hers. "You can take me," she muttered. Raul wrinkled his forehead. Chenelle grabbed his phone and shook it at him as she spoke, "Nobody will tell me, but I know Shaundi will tell you. Please, Raul, I have to see him."

Raul ran his fingers through his curls and let out another sigh. "Por qué hoy," he muttered, "If I get in trouble because of you—"

     "You won't get in trouble!" She interrupted, aggressively grabbing at the sleeve of his Stilwater Uni sweater. "I'll take all the blame or whatever, just fucking tell me where he is!"

     Raul absentmindedly gazed elsewhere, contemplating on whether the consequences for disobedience were worth giving her what she wanted. The boss hadn't been all too hard on them thus far. The most he ever did to them was yell or slap them around, but never anything too intense. However, they were on the brink of a gang war. All he wanted for them to do was protect Chenelle, but did she really need all this protection, and if so, for what purpose? What set her apart from the rest of the gang and lieutenants?

     His attention shifted to her pleading face, his eyes tracing over her natural-born features that made her who she was, his unanswered questions still echoing in his head. "Fine," he sighed, earning a thankful squeeze in return.

❦

Heavy lids struggled to flutter open, tender eyes burning from the brightness of the lighting. The boss rose a feeble hand to his face and rubbed his eyes before resting his hand on the meeting point of his nose bridge and forehead. A slightly familiar voice rung in his ears — "He's waking up!" — followed by a gentle nudge. The boss groaned and mumbled something even he couldn't quite understand. The voice spoke again, begging him to rise. When his eyes had fully adjusted to the lighting, he realized he was back at the HQ, and Shaundi, as well as others, surrounded him in his half-renovated room.

     "W...What happened?" the boss let out breathlessly, an uneasy lurch occurring in his stomach.

     "You passed out hun," another disembodied voice said from the other side of the room. Before he could turn his head to search for the source, Maria came into view with a damp washcloth in hand. She dabbed his head lightly, and he briefly appreciated the cool sensation it gave him before he groaned and ripped it out of her hand. "Shaundi here told me by the time they got to you, you just collapsed."

     "The fuck?" the boss let out in disbelief. He attempted to sit up, but a pang in his stomach made him do otherwise. Maria readied a bucket at his side, and he turned over to release whatever contents his stomach contained into it. Afterwards, he spit out the distasteful remnants and wiped his mouth with the cloth. "Why did I-"