Saving Lucas

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Alice said as they lifted Ringo off the car toward the house. Winter was holding the door open for them.

Alice was what you'd call a masculine beauty. She had neck-lengthed hair that hugged her face in a good way, brown eyes that screamed 'charming,' stood 5'2 and had a pretty fair complexion. She was wearing a shirt and curduroy pants, which, according to her, were both comfortable and stylish.

“Somebody shot him. It’s a long story,” Winter replied.

"Shot?" Alice exclaimed, wide eyed. "What do you mean shot? We should bring him to a hospital. This isn't a clinic, for chrissakes!" she freed her other arm and reached in her pocket for her phone. "Did you call the police?"

"No!" Winter yelled as she held Alice's hand as tight as an eagle's talon. "Please, Alice. It's too dangerous. Keep the police out of this. And no hospitals. Please. Just trust me on this."

"Then tell me what happened."

"Let's take care of him first," she said. "Then I'll tell you everything."

"Good enough,” Alice nodded. “Go boil some water. We’ll lay him on the sofa.”

The house was small yet what you can call homey. The walls were painted lemon yellow with a hint of powder blue and white. The furnitures looked Victorian, plush and all-white, which complemented the whole setting perfectly. There were photos of Alice's mother and father on the desk, and pictures of her own in chronoligocal order. Some showed Alice crawling, her first walk, her first run, and the list goes on. They reminded Winter of that old Greek mythology where the Sphynx asked Oedipus a riddle. Yep, Alice's pictures would make the Sphynx nod and write a ten on the scoreboard.

"My parents liked to keep mementos of my development," Alice said, seemingly reading her thoughts. "And when I reached this age, well, they left me here and went to Brazil. Work, they say."

Alice and Anton laid Ringo on one of the plush sofa's while Winter found her way to the kitchen and found a kettle. She turned on the faucet and filled the kettle to the brim. She put it on the gas range and flicked the fire into life.

“He’s bleeding too much,” Alice said as Winter stepped back to the living room. 

Winter ignored her and went to the windows, shutting the blinds. 

“And again I ask—what the hell happened?” Alice asked.

Winter dropped to the sofa. She raised her hands to her face and cried. “He shot him,” she said. “He… he killed Lucas.”

“What? Lucas? Lucas who?” she said.

“He was with us,” it was Anton who replied. “We… we managed to escape.”

Alice turned to him. “And who the hell are you?”

“I’m…” he turned to Winter. “I’m Anton.”

The kettle whistled. Winter went to fetch the kettle, and went back to the living room. 

“Pour hot water into this,” Alice handed  her a steel basin. Winter took it and did as she was told. 

Alice disappeared from the room. When she got back, she carried what looked like a medical bag, a pack of cotton balls, alcohol and bandage. She shooed Winter and Anton off the sofa. 

“He has fever,” she said. “I need to take the bullet out," she turned to proceed with the task. When Anton and Winter didn't move, she looked at them and raised her brows. "Well? Do you want to stand by and watch?”

Winter looked at Anton then signaled for him to go someplace else.

“You can stay at the guestroom upstairs,” Alice said. “Actually, I fixed it for Jennifer’s arrival. She'll be flying in tomorrow." she stopped. Then: "Or if you want to, you can stay at my parents' bedroom. I'm sure they wouldn't mind. After all, they won't be home until next year." she managed a chuckle. "First room to the right."

Winter nodded at her direction and mouthed a thank you. Alice nodded too, snapping gloves on as she did.

The room was no different from the house's fascade. It was mellow, yet screamed Victorian in every way. There was a classy chandelier hanging in the center, and a bed that seemed to have been taken from Queen Elizabeth's lair. 

Winter went inside and proceeded to the window. She opened the curtains and looked out, hugging herself. The sun was low now, casting a soft glow against her face. Anton looked at her and felt his breath hitch with her softness; her vulnerability searing through his chest. He tried so hard not to run to her and hold her, taking a few steps at a time. They remained quiet, feeling each other's movements. When Anton finally stopped in front of her, she buried her face in his chest. Her sobs quickly grew to cries of agony; the death of Lucas wrapping them both in a dark atmosphere. Anton held her and shushed her, stroking her hair as he did. 

"Lucas was a good person," she said in between sobs. "He... He didn't deserve to die, Anton. Do you understand? He didn't deserve any of this!" she continued.

Neither do I, Anton thought. Everything was still so confusing. He still didn't know why he was here. Didn't know what he'd done to be in this position. Lucas, Ringo, Winter, all of them were still somewhat strangers to him. And worse, Winter didn't seem to know what was going on either. Is that even possible, he thought. Was Winter really as innocent as she appears to be? Can you really be faithful enough to do something without asking any questions? 

"I... I think I'd better leave you alone," he whispered. "give you some time to mourn privately." he said as he looked at her once more and went for the door.

As he was just about to open the door, Winter whispered, "Anton?"

He remained still. "Yes?"

"Will you do me a favor?" she sobbed. "Will you drop everything for a while and just hold me?" 

Anton turned around. He stared at her for a few moments, sucking it all in. Her softness, her vulnerability. He tried to search for something in her face, for signs of deceit. He knew he shouldn't trust her. He didn't know anything about her. Three days ago, they were strangers. Total strangers. They didn't know each other. They may be worlds apart, for crying out loud. Children were taught by their parents not to trust strangers for a reason. And that reason was here in front of him, taking the form of a very weak and fragile woman. He didn't crack easily. He'd been with almost every type of bimbo in his lifetime. She wouldn't be any different. She didn't deserve to even see the emotion that was there behind Anton's piercing brown eyes. 

He took a step forward.

"I'd drop everything just to catch a glimpse of you," he whispered. "So of course. Of course I'll hold you," he said as he ran to her and wrapped her inside his arms, a tear falling down his cheek.