The RunAway Model

XIII. Backfire

Marco literally dragged Khaye's limp body away from the entrance while the other detectives ran out with their guns. Gian was kneeling over his sister and shouting for someone to call for help.

It was Marco who thought of assessing Khaye's physical state. He felt a pulse but it was weak and her breathing wasn't good either. She had lost consciousness and there was a lot of blood over the right side of her chest. He located the bullet entrance just near her clavicle. "We have to take her out of here now," he said to Gian.

His partner looked over his shoulder where the detectives were scattered. Some of them already ran across the street to get to the building where the shooter must have been hiding. Gian didn't waste more time and took Khaye in his arms. Marco ran outside to get his car. He was already wailing his siren by the time Gian managed to get Khaye in the backseat.

On their way to the nearest hospital, Gian tried to shake Khaye to her senses. She opened her eyes once but that was all. She was losing a lot of blood. Marco shouted orders to the other detectives back in the station. He called a trusted team to gather the footages from the station and the cameras across the street. "Make sure no one touches them other than your team, you get it? No one gets those damned footages!"

They reached the hospital and Khaye was immediately handed over to the ER nurses. Marco had to stop Gian from running after the team when they wheeled her to the surgical area.

"Hey, she's going to be okay," he said to his partner.

Gian's face pictured more than just worry. Marco saw the anger in his eyes. "We shouldn't have let her be involved in this." He looked at the closed door behind him with regret.

"There is no point in thinking what we should have done or shouldn't have. It already happened. And this just means one thing," he said, sitting down on a vacant chair and leaning his head against the wall. "Your sister is in danger from the very people we have been hunting down for years. If she goes through with this, we have to make sure that she stays alive."

Gian did not answer. He just stared at Marco for a moment, his face unreadable. "I need some air," he said before taking off.

*****

"What did you do inside that room?" he asked her the moment she stepped inside the cabin.

Desiree stepped out of her heels and walked to the bar. She needed a drink after her crazy and nerve-wrecking encounter with Mr. Berkeley. "Nothing. Just what you wanted me to do."

"I didn't tell you to drag him into a fucking dressing area." His voice was cold, almost angry.

"You told me to get close to him, didn't you? I just did what he suggested we should do. There was no harm done."

"He could have easily strangled you do death back there. Have you realized that? Were you so confident that he would stick his dick out instead of a knife?"

Desiree's jaw tightened. "What the fuck are you talking about?" She took a gulp of brandy to calm her nerves. "Do you think we did it back there? How could we have managed that?" she asked when he did not say a word. Turning around to face him, she looked at his blank face and asked, "Are you jealous?"

The anger on his face was so sudden that it almost took her aback. "This trip is very important for me that a petty thing as jealousy doesn't even have a fucking place in it. What you do with that man concerns me because he has what my client wants. You make one wrong move and this can all end up bad and that includes the children. You don't want that, do you?"

"You are the devil himself," Desiree spat out.

"You haven't seen the devil yet, Desiree. And if you wish not to, follow my orders. Don't do improvisations because there's no room for that." He got up and started for the door.