Jessie

Author's note:

This chapter contains no sexual activity. It will resume in Chapter 17.

This chapter does contain some violence. If that bothers you, please resume reading at Chapter 16.

As always, thanks for reading, voting, and all your comments, public and private. I appreciate it all.

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September

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I tuned out the sirens, tuned out the radio, tuned out all distractions except the pivot tables in the spreadsheet I was working on. Fucking things never worked right.

I looked up at a knock on my office door a few minutes later. "Come in."

The floor assistant, my quasi-secretary, stuck her head around the door frame. "Isn't Greene Park near your house, Gary?"

I thought about it. That was where Jessie and Sienna played basketball. "Yeah, kind of, a couple blocks over. Why?"

Janet fidgeted. "Turn up the radio, I heard them say something about a shooting near there."

The pivot tables dropped from my consciousness, and I cranked up the radio on my docked laptop. I'd taken to keeping a news station running at low volume in the background at all times, tracking the reports of the Brotherhood across the nation ever since the highway attack in August. My coworkers had given me shit for turning into a talk radio junkie, and I played along.

" - are coming in that attackers targeted a local deli. It's unclear whether the shooting was random or specific, since the Greene Park area has seen its share of gang violence in the last several years. Sources are telling us that there are multiple dead, though a full count hasn't been reached and likely won't be for several hours. Tricia, what can you tell us - "

I rose, bile churning up my throat as my stomach dropped to the floor. I felt hot and loose and my ears buzzed. Deli by Greene Park. That was Ashley's store.

"Yeah, that's by my house," I told Janet. "I'm leaving. Reschedule my two o'clock."

I grabbed my briefcase and sprinted out.

Not again. Not fucking again. And what were the fucking odds that there was a random gang shooting THIS SUMMER in THIS CITY at THE SHOP where Sienna worked?

Nil.

I didn't know her schedule. I hoped against hope she was at home. Either way...Ashley...

I dialed up Jessie as I sprinted for my truck. "C'mon, answer," I growled. "ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!" My voice echoed around the parking ramp as I yanked open the door. I put the phone on speaker, threw it on the passenger seat and roared out as soon as the key hit ignition.

Jessie picked up. "Hey, what's up?"

"You hear sirens nearby?"

Her voice went small. "Yeah, why?"

"Your mom called, wants you to bring her that package, I think it's upstairs."

I heard movement and she muffled the phone, called out for Jane. More movement and I could tell she'd scooped the little girl up. Motherfucker, that meant Sienna wasn't home. Maybe. "Is See there?"

"No, she works until three, then I have class. Why, what is this about?" I could hear her footsteps on the stairs.

"Pretty sure there was a shooting at Ashley's."

Her voice went small. "You try her phone?"

"Not yet. Hunker down upstairs. Shoot anyone who comes through the door, I'll call and let you know it's me before I come in. I don't think this is random, or gang-related like they're saying on the news."

"You think they're after See."

"I think they found her."

I heard my safe door open with a beep, and metallic rustling within, the slide of steel on steel and a spring compressing as Jessie chamber checked one of my little AR pistols. "We'll wait for you. Let me know what you hear."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too."

Traffic was interminable being across town. I tried to put all the horrible what-ifs out of my head, tried not to feel worry, pain, anxiety. What would be would be. Winding myself up would do no one any good.

I couldn't help but think of Sienna though. Stupid stuff, like showing her how to clean out the pool filter, or picking the threads out of a tag in her shirt with my knife because it was scratching her. Cooking dinner and eating with her and Jessie and Jane at the table, hearing about the antics of bar patrons or stupid customers at the shop. Watching her play dolls with her daughter.

I realized I was hyperventilating, my eyes tearing up, and I punched the steering wheel.

I did not know what I would do if she was dead. I didn't know how I would walk, talk, eat, sleep. I couldn't imagine doing those things in a world so ugly and unfair.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" I roared at my reflection in the rearview.

I parked a few blocks away from Ashley's store. I could hear the commotion, from here, didn't want to worry about getting a vehicle in and out. I shrugged off my sport coat, sprinted down the sidewalks, my anxiety rising as I closed on the scene.

Neighbors to the shop were crowded against the police tape, officers holding the curious onlookers back. Cruisers whined piercingly, cutting through the shouting and high volume talking like a knife. One officer checked under ambulances with a mirror on a stick. Good idea.

I found Mrs. Nelson halfway through the crowd, and she jumped when I tapped her shoulder. "What happened?" I asked.

"Gang shooting they're saying. I haven't seen or heard much."

"Victims?"

"Several customers, one shooter is what I heard."

That'd be Ashley. She kept a Shockwave shotgun behind the counter. "Staff? Is Ashley alright? I know Sienna was working today."

"I don't know, I'm sorry." She touched my arm, tried to reassure me. It didn't work.

I pushed deeper into the crowd, elbowing my way to the front and pissing people off as I went. The storefront had bullet holes in it, glass spiderwebbed and missing in chunks. A smear of red streaked the brick wall by the entrance, and more darkened the pavement out front. Cops milled around on the lawn, and they parted for a stretcher bearing a long black bag.

I swallowed hard.

I didn't know.

I wouldn't speculate.

I circled the crime scene, not actually violating the perimeter but trying to find one cop alone, away from the crowd. I found one guarding an alley leading to the back of the store. Big burly guy with a bald head and red mustache. He eyed me suspiciously as I approached, and I'd like to think my appearance - harried businessman - disarmed him enough that he wouldn't throw the cuffs on right away. "This is an active crime scene, you're going to need to leave," he told me.

"I know, I know, just... Officer, my girlfriend was in that store. One of the employees. I need to know if she's ok."

He stopped forward like he was going to put a hand on my shoulder, remembered his training, stepped back. "I'm sorry to hear that. I've been back here the entire time, I don't know much about what's going on inside. Do you have a name, description?"

"Sienna Schneider, five foot seven, five-ten, somewhere in there. Hundred and thirty pounds ish. Blonde hair, green eyes. Please, if you could ask someone. The store owner too, she's a friend of mine, we do a lot for the neighborhood together. Ashley, she's from India, I can't pronounce her last name. Smaller than Sienna, long dark braids?"

He took a step back. Bent his head low to his mic, and the only words I picked up were "distraught" and "boyfriend." I waited interminable seconds, sweat dripping down my torso under my shirt, anxiety and fear and warm fall weather. I could hear trees rustling in the warm breeze and the sky overhead was a brilliant blue. What a beautiful day to be alive.

What a terrible day.

"No female victim matches the description you have for your girlfriend," the officer stated, and my heart leaped. "Your friend Ashley was shot and was taken to the hospital. I can't tell you more than that, I'm sorry."

"Do you know where Sienna is?"

"We've got no one by that name or description either in the hospital, being interviewed, or in a bag. Maybe she was out, maybe she didn't stick around? This is the kind of neighborhood where people don't hang out to talk to cops."

"Thanks, that gives me hope. Do you know how Ashley is? Did they say?"

"Sorry, man."

"Thank you." I headed for the truck. I called Sienna's phone from the driver's seat, listened to the rings with growing anxiety. "Hey, it's Gary. Call me if you're safe. Call me if you're not. Just let me know you're ok. I... Bye."

I called Jessie as I drove downtown. She picked up at the second ring. "Gary, what's up? How are Sienna and Ashley? What did you hear?"

"Sienna's missing. Ashley got shot."

"Shit."

"Yeah. That's why I'm calling. What hospital would they take gunshot victims to from this neighborhood."

"Umm..." she thought a moment, then rattled off a local hospital that was perpetually in the news for low funding.

"That's what I thought. I'm on my way there, gonna try to find out how Ashley is. If she's...fuck... If she's ok, I'll try to talk to her, find out what happened to See. Sorry honey, I don't think you're gonna make it to class today."

"That's ok, I'm sure the teacher will understand. Tell Ashley, I'm thinking of her, get well."

"Will do. You can come downstairs if you want, don't feel like you need to stay barricaded upstairs, but keep the doors locked and the shutters down. Just... Just in case. Keep a gun close too."

"Aye aye, captain."

"Hug Jane for me too."

She sighed, and it sounded painful. "I will. Call me as soon as you know something."

"You got it. Love you."

"I love you too."

###

From the hospital, I updated Jessie as soon as I heard about Ashley. In surgery, doing well.

And then I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

And some more after that.

I called Sienna's phone every hour. Jessie every two. Updated her with nothing. I fucked around on my phone. Called in paid time off for the next two days. Sat in the waiting room as harried humanity suffered physically and mentally around me. Anxious families, injured people, stressed staff. Occasionally there would be shouting and one of the two uniforms in the lobby would move to investigate.

It was a "gun and knife club" hospital like Nina used to work in. Violent neighborhoods funneled their victims here, and the poverty was in evidence, dirty chairs and upholstery, old magazines, unchanged lightbulbs, just barely not-enough staff.

I ate at a nearby bar for dinner because I didn't trust the cafeteria to serve anything besides chocolate jello and cheesy toast.

I finally got to see Ashley around eleven that night. Per Jessie, Sienna hadn't returned yet. My mind couldn't help but run to the worst.

Ashley looked small, in the massive white-sheeted bed, hooked up to pain meds, a machine taller than she was giving constant vitals and medication readings. She looked at me groggily. "Hey."

The doctors had shaved her head, and it was bandaged. A massive bandage encompassed her left arm and chest, and her normally dark skin looked as pale as the cloth and tape. "You look great," I quipped. "What did you do to end up in the hospital."

She smiled, fought a laugh that turned into a pained cough. "I got shot. I'm like you now."

"Where? What happened?"

"Water?"

I helped her drink from a mug with a straw. She sighed at the cool liquid, raised a hand to point at her head. "I'm like you. Shot in the head. That's why they cut my hair I guess. Chest too. Twice in the shoulder."

"Short hair looks better on you than me."

She grimaced and coughed again.

"I heard you got one of them. Good job."

"Proud of me, ya?"

"Very." I sat and leaned close. "Who was it? What happened?"

"Cops are telling me it was a gang thing, and they would've been able to make it look like it if I didn't hit one of them." Another cough wracked her slight frame.

It felt like the temperature in the room dropped thirty degrees, and my heart rate spiked. "Make it look like a gang thing?"

"Black and red, Gary. Three of them, wearing bulletproof vests. They just...swept...in."

Ashley was quiet a while, and I covered her hand with mine. Another person knew what mortal violence looked like. Another soul damaged by evil. More lasting pain inflicted on a good person.

Dammit.

"They shot the customers, shot me. I got one of them in the head with my shotgun before I got hit. Pumped it one-handed, hit another. They came behind the counter and that's when they..." Tears welled in her eyes and she bit her lip and I knew she was reliving the execution shot that should've killed her. "I've got a hard head," she said with a bitter coughing laugh. "Bullet hit at just the right angle, followed my skull, exited out the back."

"Good," was all I could think to say.

"They took Sienna."

My blood ran even colder and a buzzing started in my ears. "What?"

"I didn't tell the police this, because they were VERY insistent on it being gang-related. Like, weirdly so."

"Tell me, please."

"Water?"

I helped her drink again, and around that time the machine buzzed and she sighed as more painkiller dulled her senses.

"I could hear her screaming. Calling for me. They brought her out through the front of the store. I heard tires and an engine."

"Fuck."

"Yeah... I'm not telling anyone else, Gary. These cops scare me. They keep telling me about gangs, like it's a really strong suggestion."

"Ok."

"Find her. Get her back."

"I will."

I held her hand until she fell asleep. Held it a while longer.

I didn't want to leave my friend - one of the first I'd made when I moved to Milwaukee. I didn't want to let her out of my sight.

###

I called Jessie to let her know I'd be coming home soon, not to shoot when I opened the door.

I sat in the darkened garage for a long time, contemplating my next moves. Trying to figure out what to do next.

Trying not to think about Sienna. I didn't know where she was. I didn't know if she was even in the state. I didn't know if she was still alive, or if I'd ever see her again. Al I knew was that nothing good was happening to her right now.

I tried to block it from my mind.

We were a long way from the day she'd flashed me in my college office.

I let myself into the house, locked up behind me. Jessie was sitting on the couch watching news coverage of the shooting, Jane sleeping with her head on her lap. "Shhh... she didn't want to go upstairs without her mom."

I took the stubby AR15 pistol off the coffee table, checked the bolt as quietly as I could, verified safe. "I need to talk to you."

Very slowly, she eased out from under Jane, covered her with a blanket, then followed me into the kitchen. "You ok? Where's See? How's Ashley doing?"

"I'm fine. Ashley got shot twice in the chest. They tried to execute her and tagged the edge of her skull. Like me." I reached up and rubbed the scar on the side of my head.

"And Sienna?"

"The Brotherhood has her. Killed everyone in the store, dragged her out."

Jessie staggered in place, went even paler than usual. "Oh. Fuck."

"Yeah." It hurt to say. Hurt to think about.

"News is saying it was a gang thing. Police chief said that very specifically. Why...?"

"They would," I said grimly. Sienna's warning about Morgan owning cops and politicians was coming to disturbing life.

"What are you gonna do? What CAN we do?" Jessie was standing with her hand on the edge of the table, looking exsanguinated. I couldn't blame her. I put the AR down and hugged her. Felt her heartbeat against mine, the rise and fall of her breath. She was alive, and I was gonna keep it that way. No matter what.

"We need to get McKenna here, under this roof. If they're hitting people close to us... there's none closer."

"Ok. What about Don?"

"He's a friend, and he comes over on occasion, but it's not like he's ALWAYS here, you know? Besides, he'd probably enjoy the chance to unload on those assholes. First shooting the police investigate this year where the attacker gets shot with fifteen different calibers."

Jessie snickered, and it felt good to hear her express something like happiness.

"I'll call him though. Let him know he might expect trouble."

The call to Don took about five minutes. I apprised him of the situation, he asked if I need anything, I told him I'd let him know, and then we hung up. I felt guilty for disturbing him in the wee hours of the morning, but he'd been awake and coherent. Probably swinging a massive sledge or doing overhead presses with cinderblocks to get those gorgeous arms.

McKenna arrived an hour later with an overnight bag. First thing she did was hug Jessie. Then me. Then she took the now-awake Jane up to bed and tucked her in. In the absence of her mother, the little girl seemed comforted by the pint-sized programmer. She listened to Mickey, was more easily corralled by Mickey, far better than us.

We sat at the kitchen table, me cleaning guns on a towel, the girls watching the news and playing with their phones. McKenna had taken me up on my offer to give her my two Remington forty-fives last spring, and I did those first. I'd only carried them for a brief time down in Florida, and it felt weird to have them back in my hands. I was surprised I still remembered the takedown of the hundred and twenty-year-old design.

Jessie looked up from her tablet, took a sip of her drink. "They're not even mentioning See. Eight dead in that store, Ashley's the only wounded. They're calling it a gang shooting. Fuck, The Brotherhood put out a press release mourning their comrade - the one Ash shot. Saying he's a victim and blaming the whole thing on the number of gun stores in Wisconsin and the amount of poverty in this neighborhood."

She took another slug of whiskey. "I don't know Mike, when we were struggling to make ends meet, did you ever think 'y'know, a perfectly reasonable response to buying ramen all the time is to go shoot up the corner store?' Fuckers."

McKenna looked at me uncomfortably, shrugged.

"They're not even looking for her," Jessie continued. She's just GONE. How... How do we get her back? How do we convince them to even begin looking for her? Ash was paying her in cash the whole time, she wasn't even on the fucking payroll or schedule. She was a ghost."

"I'll do it," McKenna said.

"What?" I looked up from twisting the barrel bushing through the recoil spring.

She spooned more of her sundae into her mouth, chewed. "I'll go to the police tomorrow morning. Tell them I saw a blonde woman getting hauled out of the building and into a truck after the shooting by a couple red and black shitheads. Keeps The Brotherhood from connecting her to you, or here."

"Yeah, but then they're pissed at you."

The youthful little brunette shrugged "I'm here for the duration." She caught my questioning eyes. "What? I don't work. I have literally nothing better to do than hang out with you guys."

"Ok. Your call." I slid the pair of forty-fives across the table. She checked them over, put the five-inch in a case and the commander sized model in her purse.

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"Fuck if I know."

Jessie let out a shuddering sigh. "I'm gonna go up to bed. I'm dead tired. Gary, if you want to take, like, first watch, I'll take over later this morning, let you get some sleep."

"Sounds good."

"You want some company?" McKenna asked. "You look like you could use some company."

"Yeah. Just to sleep though."

"Of course."

Both women hugged me, Jessie told me she loved me, and then I was alone in the dining room. I loved around the empty, familiar surroundings, feeling a profound sense of loss and worry. I didn't want to imagine what Sienna was going through right now. I didn't want to, but knowing the depths of Morgan's cruelty, I couldn't help it.

I turned on the news, broke apart another gun for cleaning, and waited for dawn.

###

McKenna went to the police station the next day, and I chased Jane around the backyard in the warm fall air, listening to her shrieks of delight and trying not to wonder when or if her mother would return.