Scars Left By Memories - Book II

Not Gonna Happen, Not Again

Don't come look for me

Why would he even leave this here for me. He must've been going on a mission or planned a disappearance. From me? I raised my eyebrow. Before I could even think of something else and waste more time. I hurried over to the drawers under his coffee table.

Pulling the drawers opened. I found plenty of carbon pistols. With ammunition in a container besides the guns. I grabbed two pistols and plenty of ammunition for the both of the pistol. Closing the drawers as I stood up. Reloading the pistols, filling them up, the guns became heavy after loading them.

I may not have gotten more information to where Francisco could've been or where was he at, but I had a feeling that he was on a mission to the Russian's. I knew Francisco had more than one vehicle. He was wealthy and rich.

Turning around to search for possibly a place where he we would leave his keys at. I searched through his office, bedroom, and nothing was there. Until I was going through his kitchen and opened up a cabinet. I found hangers for keys. I take all of them off the hoods and brought them over to the counter.

A Mercedes key, must've been a spare key to his main car. A BMW key, which could've been another expensive car he had, and another Mercedes key? Another spare, how bad could Francisco be at keeping track of keys. But in the pile of keys, there was small one at the bottom.

There was nothing on there except a small New York city keychain on the key ring, besides the main key. Behind the city keychain was a small ripped off paper with faded writing. But I luckily made out what it originally said. Motorcycle.

Francisco would've probably appreciated if I didn't drive any of his fancy cars. Just take the damn motorcycle. I snatched the motorcycle keys.

Placing the rest of the keys back into the cabinet. I hurried up to my bedroom and grabbed a black bomber jacket from my closet. Unzipping my pockets. The pistols had nearly fit into the pockets.

I zipped them up. They looked normal, as if nothing except possibly my phone or wallet was in my pocket. I hurried away, knowing I couldn't waste anymore time.

I got out of the penthouse quickly, before I knew it. I reached the parking garage. Searching for that motorcycle. Till I eventually found it, besides the rest of Francisco's other cars. There was a helmet casually on the motorcycle. Like nobody else was going to even attempt to steal it.

I hopped on the motorcycle, plugging the key into the ignition, turning it as the ignition turned on. I take the helmet from the front, placing it on my head, snapping the two buckles. I think I can do this. Now I can cross riding or driving a motorcycle off my bucket list.

***

At the stop light, I glanced up at the long hill. Terrible memories had already swarmed around my mind. My only concern was that, would if Francisco didn't even come here. I could be risking my own life.

I just couldn't let what happened to Tristan, happen to Francisco. It did not matter to me, whether or not it was his job, I couldn't let it happen. Riding up the hills, pass the houses that Francisco and I journey passed while I was on my way home.

But I knew it was the perfect place to check, when I noticed many rows of vehicles throughout each block. I just hoped I wasn't too late. I spotted from afar, Nikolay's estate.

That's when I see Francisco's Mercedes. I hurried and turned into the neighborhood. Quickly parking across from his car. Taking the key from ignition and unsnapping the helmet.
Pulling it off of me.

Setting it onto the handles of the motorcycle. I parked the motorcycle, climbing off of it. I am so glad I put my hair up. Or else, this ride would have been a complete mess.

While I was adjusting the helmet, to make sure it was sturdy and loose. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest from fear.

"Sage? What the hell are you fucking doing here?" That strong deep voice of Francisco came from behind me. I turned around, finding the six foot-two man standing there.

He had on a black Nike hoodie with armor covering him. Black joggers and black shoes. He had a large rifle on him. My adrenaline rushed of fear.

"I was worried about you. Leaving me with nothing but a donut, cut out rug, stopwatch, glasses, and a damn green card. Not even leaving me with a letter of some sort." I said. Francisco's face became colder.

"If the fucking message meant don't come look for me. It means, don't come fucking look for me. Understand?" Francisco argued.

"Francisco that is not the-" Before I could even finish my sentence, Francisco completely cuts me off.

"Understand!" He yells. I shut my eyes. There is a reason why you keep coming back to him, Halle's voice repeated.

"No, I don't." I said. "You left me worried. What did you want to me to do? Stay at the penthouse and wait for you to come back home. Would if you never returned? Am I just gonna assume that you will be okay. You didn't even tell me. You kept this a secret from me."

"You are doubting me? Think I can't handle myself." Francisco questions, keeping his eyebrows furrowed. That's when it started to snow.

"Can you stop being sensitive for one minute." I said, nearly gritting my teeth. Francisco gave me all his attention, good. "Back when Tristan got shot. I thought he was safe from the Russian's. They didn't even know him. I don't care if you are in the mafia or part of the military, I don't want what happened to Tristan happen to you. I care about you too much to let something bad happen to you. Not again. But I can't stop you or any of this."

"But I came here to tell you that,

I love you."