Trails Of Blood

Chapter 9

          I stared at the door a first raised half-way to the door, the gunshot ringing a close reminder from yesterday. 

          The words I swore to him, the recollections when we first met at the precinct. The tongue-in-cheek bond we first formed year's ago. When things got tough Franco was a there to take me out my comfort zone and meet the people helped over the course of his career.

          Over the past 10 years of being a journalist I had lost two of the greatest people that left an impact on the work I did; My mentor and Franco, people I admired dreamt of seeking their approval even though I didn't need it.

           Working the nerve to knock on the door it slowly opened revealing a disheveled Benjamin looked between us the life in his eyes blowing out, "What's going on?" He asked his eyes furrowing.

              "It's Franco," Ivan answered, squeezing his hand tightly.

          Benjamin straightened himself his shoulders slumping fear flashing in his eyes asking, "What about him? Stop fucking stalling."

            "They killed Franco...the Supremacy got him, Dan shot him while I was on the phone with Franco," I explained to him swallowing thickly.

              We swiftly pulled Benjamin inside when his teeth turned canine-like preventing him from doing anything irrational, we struggled to pin him on the floor using all of our strength to hold him down. 

              Ivan pulled him into a bear hug with Benjamin fisting his shirt red teardrops staining him, panting heavily I soothed his back kneeling next to them offering. We tightly loved him the pain soaring through us it highlighted in our veins igniting a fire the roars of grief roaring alive within us. 

              We were sharing the agony attempting to soothe this endless nightmare, but it was there the death of Franco was present the memories shared combined with the happiness we had cherished very little.  

             Waking to the sun brightening the room I slithered off the bed where Benjamin and Ivan were cuddling, walking to the window I pushed opened the blinds watching people walking, talking, going on with their daily lives. 

             Noticing my own reflection I touched the stained tears on the window, taking in the richness of these people's lives this town vibrant with colors this world had offered to everyone outside the walls. The people outside were still going on with their lives there were people out there refusing to give up on their own hopes and dreams.

             Grabbing my sweater and messenger bag I walked out the door briskly marching down the hall heading towards the stairs, the promise I made to Franco, the woman who hung herself deserved better, including the parents like Mr. Morettie. 

                I pushed the doors opened informing the driver where to go looking out the window I brushed the tear away sucking in a heavy breath, "Ms. you doing okay back there?" An old beanie man asked.

            "It's been a long...week," I replied with a sad grin refusing to meet his eyes.

           The man chuckled shaking his head, showing peaks of his grey thinned hair saying, "Do you believe you have done all that you can?" 

           "I don't know," I answered truthfully.

           "As long as you can look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the day that's all that matters." The man answered sniffing his congested nose.

           I chuckled nodding softly, looking out the window once more even deciphering the memories we shared on countless cases when his wife left him I was there trying to soothe the pain taking him out the house and keeping him in line so he wouldn't drink. Everything that happened was in my hands, the promise I kept to him was something I had to force myself to keep.