Escapade

Chapter Nineteen: Everyone's Part in the Play

My mind felt like it had departed from my body, like I was watching myself from someone else's eyes. Numbly, slowly, I started to register some physical feeling, but my mind was behind me with Michelangelo, who was lying on the ground, hunched over, bleeding, and surrounded by people who meant him nothing but harm.

Chest heaving and shaky knees. I scrambled through the brush onto the other side, automatically pulling a piece of my shirt from one of the jagged pieces of metal from the hole in the fence. The image of Michelangelo grasping the back of his shoulder as he watched me escape was transfixed in me. I felt rough cloth and skin, noticing only when he grabbed my own hand that it belonged to Richie. Tall blades of grass brushed against us as we headed down the hill to the street, where Don was waiting for us. I wanted so badly to turn back and try to save my brother, but I knew that once I made the decision to leave, it was too late to change my mind.

A finger rubbing against my cheek. It was only when Richie wiped them away that I realized my cheeks were so soaked in tears it was like they were coated in them. Still in a daze, I placed my hand over his finger and held onto it, searching for some sort of comfort in it. He responded by holding my hand tighter.

It seemed like every curve on his face was expressing what I was feeling internally: I felt my anguish for Michelangelo mirrored in his eyes, and my hurt from Liz drawn on ever small line around his lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't. I didn't want to talk. All I wanted was some sign that everything was going to be okay, and was searching for it in his face and the warmth of his hand.

"We should go now," Don said. He was standing by a black three-wheel Harley Davidson parked on the side of the road. Attached to it was a sidecar. He leaned into it and pulled out two helmets, urging us to wear them.

Don's face was calm as ever. Again, I saw the stark difference between the brothers. When faced with this kind of turmoil, Richie was a waterfall of emotions: he was messy, and confused, and every emotion he felt was rashly and naturally expressed. Meanwhile, Don's calm was like a lake that was impossible to perturb, no matter what you threw in it. Don's lack of emotion unsettled me, but it seemed to give Richie some sense of determination. His expression softened and he took the helmet from his brother's hand, then turned to me.

"Don, take her somewhere safe," Richie said as he hastened the helmet onto me. "The worst thing that can happen right now is her getting hurt."

"Me?" I said. I snapped back to reality, roused by anger. "If I get hurt? Who cares if I'm hurt? For my sake, everyone's gotten hurt. I was supposed to protect them all, to be their leader, but..."

"Look," Richie replied. "You're shaken up. You're scared, and you think this is all your fault. I get it. But trust me when I say---"

"You're worth it," Don said, completing the sentence with him.

I shook my head. "You don't mean that. No one is worth this. Rafael, Gabby, Mike, and even Carlos...none of them deserved what I put them through. Maybe if I wasn't so selfish, i-if I just stay put with the Primero's and never ran away to start with, I-I..." My voice trailed off as my thoughts swept over me. What happened to Rafael? Did he meet the same fate Michelangelo did? Did Carlos really love Liz enough to lie to everyone for her? If I didn't leave, would everyone still be safe?

"There's no point in saying 'what if's,'" Don said. His voice, still soft and airy, had a hard edge to it. He looked like he wanted to say more, but his attention wandered to the top of the hill, where a chorus of loud voices were calling out to us. "We need to go."

I nodded, wiping my tears away with the sleeve of my jacket. If I was caught by Eric or the salt-and-pepper man, then everything Michelangelo did for me would have been useless. I needed to stay safe, for his sake. I climbed into the sidecar as Don revved up the engine, putting my thoughts of family away for a moment. Another thought emerged instead, pressingly, but before I could address it, I noticed Richie walk away from us.