"The paradox of vengefulness is that it makes men dependent upon those who have harmed them, believing that their release from pain will come only when their tormentors suffer."

Morgan Ann Bennett

I never saw anyone get shot before. I didn't think Malcolm would do such a thing, then again, this wasn't out of his wheelhouse, either.

Chris told me to trust him and I did. I had my doubts, I'll be honest, if he hadn't acted a few minutes sooner I would have walked down that aisle. Gladly, no one said "I do." The downside, though, Carter's in the hospital because of me.

The silence in the waiting room was deafening. We'd seen hard times like this too often in the past few months. When will it end?

It had been a couple of hours already, still no word from Carter.
The police, though, have been questioning us. It was all the same shit. Who saw what happened? What would make the shooter [Malcolm] do such a thing? Are we sure he meant to shoot him? Like, what the fuck?
And anyway, Chris told me not to answer the cops, he said it's best we act clueless before possibly incriminating ourselves being as though the local law enforcement is on Malcolm's payroll.

Mary's calm demeanor surprised us all. While that's usually her personality— stable— I thought she'd be the most distraught after her husband got shot. No. She sat peacefully in the chair and just waited to hear any updates on him.

By four o'clock, she started getting anxious. Her legs took turns trembling and she patted her thighs to pass time.

Each and every nurse that passed would just assure Mary she'll know something "soon." That word was starting to lose it's effect.

I kept offering Mrs.Vaughn something to eat or drink, coffee, but she wasn't interested.

When I asked if she wanted to go for a walk, talk about things, or clear her head, she insisted she wasn't moving a muscle until the doctor came and talked to her about her husband.

It was traumatic, honestly - seeing Carter getting shot. The worst part, Malcolm wasn't aiming for his old friend, he was aiming for me.

What if Carter didn't push me out of the way? What if he had moved a second too late? What if Malcolm had better aim and reaction time?

Carter was only shot in the arm, but none of us took that lightly. Obviously.

Chris was no where to be found. He and JB wandered off a while ago after the nurse threatened to kick Chris out. He had a little spell with the policeman. In fact, it was the same officer — Mike Hanks— who pulled us over before and I had to pay him to leave us alone. He worked for Malcolm, of course, so he pressed Chris about his involvement in this just because he could. Evil fuck. Pig.

Basically, Chris was sitting beside me. He was jittery like his mother but this was right after we got Carter into the ER. Chris demanded answers, he wanted to know where Malcolm was but more importantly, if his father was going to be okay as we didn't yet know the severity of the wound. Really, when that bullet flew at Carter he fell to the ground and started wailing, holding his limb as if it were going to fall off. And honestly, the way he screamed and rolled around in pain, I thought his arm was going to fall off, too.
So Chris, JB, Jas, Cleo, Mary, and I all helped Carter into Chris's Durango and piled in for a ninety-miles-per hour ride to the nearest hospital. Sherry and Alvin followed with Dale and his date, Teddy's ex. Small world, but I didn't bring that up yet.

Carter was admitted and immediately treated but of course we all had to begin the world's longest waiting game.

We all buzzed, debriefing the events that led us here. JB insisted he would've taken that bullet. Next, Sherry and Alvin agreed that they would have, as well. I appreciated them, but I wish no one would have gotten in the way. It had my name on it and honestly, if that was my fate — going to reunite with Callie and Quinn— part of me would've been okay with that.

Chris hardly talked but when he did, it was just a lot of "fuck" or "shit" and "wait 'til I get my hands on Malcolm!" We all let him vent and pace while Mary silently rocked in the chair.

I wish I could read her mind.

That's when the cops came asking questions. No, basically wanting someone to snitch. JB was the first to seal his lips, Jasmine followed suit. Sherry and Alvin were persistent with their stories that they knew nothing.
When they got to Mary, she dropped one single tear and crooked her neck at them.

"My husband just got shot. Who are you to come to me at this time demanding I sit here and relive that?" Her voice was clear and stern.

Seeing them approach me, Chris quietly advised me to not give any details - to act clueless.

"I don't what happened, I've told you that three times. All I know is, someone got shot. Now if I didn't know any better I'd say you're questioning us like we had anything to do with it as if you're going to serve any justice at all." I couldn't control my bored facial expressions as I talked to Officer Hanks.

"You don't know what happened?" He questioned yet again.

I uncrossed my right leg and swapped it for my left over right. Taking in a long draw of air, I flicked my eyes up at Hanks and then exhaled.

My eyes rolled before I answered him. "No. I don't." The annoyance was becoming more clear in my tone.

"No? How about you, pretty boy?" Hanks turned to Chris in the seat beside me.

Chris didn't even look at him. He remained loose in the chair, slowly blinking.

"I'm just doing my job here, folks. You understand, right?" Hanks's whole demeanor changed.

"Honestly," he said to Chris and I, "Malcolm's been a little late on some of his debts to us and we can't afford that with all the conspiracy about his involvement with the drugs in that fifteen-year-old girl's death. You sure you haven't seen 'em?"

I looked at Chris, ready to spill, but he didn't react to Hank's sudden change of heart. I thought it was good that Malcolm was holding out for them and under fire for basically killing Madi's little sister, Maya. Except, Chris didn't care, he knew Hanks was a dirty cop who worked for Malcolm in the first place and therefore couldn't be trusted. So, Chris told Officer Hanks that he hadn't seen Malcolm and that's the last time he'd say it. When Officer Hanks reiterated that Chris should listen, Chris stood and reminded the officer that his father had just been shot and he "didn't give a shit or a fuck" about anything else.

"Excuse me, sir! This is a hospital." The moody nurse  shouted at my boyfriend. You could tell she hated her job and wasn't a person that should even work in customer service.

"Calm down, honey." Mary's voice was endearing. If Chris wasn't seeing red he would have listened to his mother, but he didn't and couldn't. Instead, he cut his eyes from the lady to Officer Hanks and let JB take him away to cool down.

That was hours ago, though.

I got tired of sitting in the creeking chair and stood up restlessly.

"Still, nothing?" I asked a passing nurse.

I know she was tired of all of us but it was her job, we were just anxious and needed to know something, anything.

"Sorry." She shook her head and continued walking along.

"I'm sorry, Mary." I whispered to her, my hand on her shoulder.

"It just doesn't make any sense. He only got shot in the arm, what is taking so long?" She fretted, flailing her stout arms.

"They're just doing their job, Mary. I'm sure the doctor will come out with good news in a second." Jasmine was the voice of reason.

As if she could see into the future, the doctor did approach us.

We all stood collectively and held our breath for the news.

The doctor was tall, slender, and dark-skinned. He was an older gentleman with greys sprinkled throughout his low haircut and groomed beard.

He removed his glasses and introduced himself as Doctor Hammond.

"Mrs.Vaughn?" His velvety voice was like one from a commercial, the best voice I wanted to hear good news from.

Mary stepped forward. "Yes, Doctor? Is my husband okay?"

He put his hand up with a small, assuring smile. "He's fine. He's a strong, brave man."

"Brave? He was crying like a little bitch." Dale, one of Carter's good friends, cracked a joke.

Everyone else just groaned, not ready for this to be a laughing matter. Okay, it was kinda funny.

"Can I see him now?" Asked Mary. She was so desperate, she was tugging on his lab coat.

"Yes, you can, but just two at a time, please. If you're ready, follow me." The doctor instructed, his eyes scanning our group.

Of course we all wanted to go say hi to Carter, but we prioritized who should see him first. Mary stayed behind the doctor with no hesitation and took my hand, thinking I'd go with her.

I signaled Dale over since he was Carter's best friend.

His date, Crystal (who was only one of Teddy's love interests, apparently) let him go. She said, "I don't know him that well, but I send my love. Go on, he needs you."

"You don't want to come?" Mary wondered aloud.

I shook my head. "I'll go get Chris."

Dale joined Mary and jokingly apologized for his "little bitch" joke from earlier. Mary playfully slapped Dale and then rubbed his dark hand as they were lead to the room.

I hated hospitals but not in a melodramatic, depressed kind of way like I can't stand them because it's so fucking sad. I just hate, well no, nevermind, that's exactly it. They're just so damn dark. The fact that there are dead bodies all over, if not dying while being operated on or something then there's basically a morgue in the lower level. Most doctors were fucking stressed and doing drugs and abusing energy drinks just to stay up and work the insane hours that they do. And the nurses, goddamn.
As I walked towards the elevator, I closely monitored the employees behind a desk as they laughed and seemingly gossiped. Workplace drama always seems so juicy, I just wondered what they were discussing in such a professional setting, you know? Like, if their real life shifts are as messy as those medical dramas on tv.

DING! I walked inside the elevator and rode it down two floors. Once I stepped out, I looked up at the directory mounted on the ceiling and followed the arrows to the cafe. There, I heard JB and Chris before I saw them.

As I grew near, I watched JB bob his head towards me to alert Chris I was coming. Men.

"What's going on, he okay?" Asked JB.

I folded my arms, looking down at them both.

"Yeah, they're done, we can go see him now."

Jabari's phone sounded with a text notification and he immediately lifted his phone from the surface of the table to read it.

"It's Jas," he said, standing. "Ima go back up."

My eyes followed Jabari as he turned the cafe and exited, leaving Chris — who still looked angry— and I.

He turned his head and stared out of the window at the sun setting sky.

I swallowed hard, waiting for his attention.

"Are you going to say anything?" I pried.

He just clenched his jaw.

"What did I do now?"

He stood up from the table in one sudden motion that scared me.

"I'm mad, Morgan." He growled. His chin was up and I watched him gulp. Anxiety, stress, both cues I picked up from his body language.

I didn't dare test him and ask why he was being standoffish to me because I didn't want to cause another fight.

With nothing more to say, I just walked away and found JB stalling at the elevator. He was waiting for Chris, of course, and looked like he didn't expect me to be there, but I was. The elevator ride back up was pretty quiet, kind of awkward. Perhaps it was just my own anxiety, or guilt, but I couldn't help but feel Chris — and JB— blame me for Carter's being here.

Dale found Crystal and they looked in good spirits. Jasmine's eyes filled with stars when she reunited with Jabari after some hours. Sherry used her husband's shoulder as a pillow. And Mary had a smile on her face after seeing Carter again and well. Then there was Chris who hardly even acknowledged me. I hated how it looked.

Chris stood by her side, ready to go see his father, but she actually turned him down.

"He wants to see Morgan, actually." said Mary.

I paused with mixed emotions. "Me?"

She nodded, looking past her son's body.

Mary extended her hand and I walked over to take it, carefully ushering down the corridor.

"Don't be nervous." Mary talked to me, our arms linked.

"I'm not, just curious. What, does he want to damn me to hell this time?"

She giggled softly. "No, he better not. My husband... has a hard time expressing how he feels. Often times, his brain and heart conflict. Sometimes when he wants to do the right thing, he doesn't know the best way how to. Just, hear him out. He did take a bullet for you."

God, I hoped that wouldn't be Carter's crutch moving forward. Part of me wanted to say "I didn't ask him to," but that's not my character. I was (am) grateful, but it's just hard with Carter.

Mary let me walk in first and then the door shut after me.

I gasped, looking over my shoulder. "Mary!" I mouthed.

She mouthed back "sorry" and then walked away, leaving me with Carter.

He sat up with his arm in a sling and told me it was okay, that I could come over and make myself comfortable. I did not feel comfortable.

"How's the arm?" I made conversation.

"Well, there's a hole in it."

"Thanks to me, huh?"

He hung his head. "It's Malcom's fault."

"Yeah, but I bet you're thinking it wouldn't have happened if I didn't put your family in this situation."

"You're not wrong in thinking that."

I nodded, already knowing.

"There's a lot of people that want to come see you, I can go get them-"

"Morgan, wait," Carter spoke up. "I don't know how to talk to you lately. I've said some pretty fucked things."

"And then you apologize just to do it again. I'm not asking you to like me, I get that you don't, just stop pretending, okay?"

"But I do like you and I know you and my son are going to be together. I didn't take the bullet for nothing, you know?"

I couldn't control the rolling of my eyes, although I did feel bad.

"Okay, well, next time someone shoots I will take it for you." Carter laughed at what I said.

"I think I'be mostly just been upset that Chris always turns to you. If not you, it was Malcolm. I thought when I returned from rehab that things would be different this time, and it was different, just not in the way I hoped. Every time I thought I had my son back, something came up with you or Malcolm, or you and Malcolm. I tried to do what was right by my son first and ended up losing you both in the process."

"You didn't lose you son, or me. I'm sorry you got shot, Carter, I really am. I'll never be able to repay you for that or thank you enough."

"I appreciate that, but even as I sit here with this hole in my arm, I can't let you apologize. I'm sorry, Morgan. And I'm sorry most of all that I didn't necessarily do it for you, I did it to show my son I care."

I nodded again, staring at his sling. "Well, you did it anyway, so it means something. Chris is pretty upset, just don't mention me when you talk to him, please?"

"Can I say that you're a sweet girl who I hope continues to make him happy especially now that Malcolm's gone?" Carter tried to make me smile. I didn't, but I appreciated the try.

"Um, maybe not the Malcolm thing, but I like the first part." I giggled.

Carter tried gesturing for a hug with his one good arm and I laughed, walking over with a grin.

I squeezed Carter and then pulled away, feeling a lot better than when I entered.

His face lifted with his mood.

"I gotta say, I always thought I'd have beef with my boyfriend's mother before his father, but." I cracked, making Carter laugh.

"The jokes are back, I see, Captain."

I put my hands into the kangaroo pouch of Chris's black hoodie that I had on.

"Yeah, and one more," I said, inching out. "Dale was right, you did cry like a little girl."

"I believe he said 'little bitch.'" Carter corrected, making fun of himself.

"Alright, Cart-man. I suppose you want to see Chris?" I sighed, hand on the doorknob.

"Yeah, I suppose. We won't be long, I know you two have some things to discuss."

I dropped my head, struck with anxiety surrounding that much needed conversation.

I just braced myself and opened the door but when I did, Chris was already there, startling me. He looked to be a lot more calm now but still cold towards me. I didn't say anything to him, I couldn't.

"How was he?" I hadn't heard his tone so neutral since this morning that it shocked me.

My eyelids flickered and lips parted as I tried acting normal. "Um, good. Good."

Chris grabbed my elbow like he usually does when things are good in the world, and it made me feel a hell of a lot better.

He put his keys in my hand. "I called you an Uber. I want you to go back to my place, I'll be there later, don't wait up." Chris spoke gently.

I just listened and gave him a hug before going. All I could do is support him and stay out of his way.

After saying my goodbyes to everyone, I hopped into the backseat and thanked the driver for picking me up.

"Actually," I squeaked, "can we stop somewhere else first?"

~~~

11:04pm

I yawned, stepping out of the elevator of The Lofts at Rockville Court - Chris's building.

What a damn day.

At long last, I rounded the corner and was relieved to know that at the end of the hall was apartment 527. Except, when I picked my head up, I saw Chris about to knock on the door.

Tired, too, he hung his head and lazily began to knock, thinking I was inside. Well, I was supposed to be but I made a pit stop on the way. A pit stop that was an hour there and an hour coming back. Okay, I went to Denver. Malcolm had money stashed away and it was his mistake letting me see these secret locations. I had to give the driver a little something extra for the inconvenience and to keep this hush-hush. After getting a few suitcases from a nearby Walmart, I stuffed them with cash and didn't feel bad about it.
I couldn't even fathom how much money I had in my possession now but he'd miss it.

"Hey." I greeted Chris, sticking the key in the slot.

He looked at me with angry eyebrows. "What are you doing? I've been calling you-"

I opened the door and walked inside hauling the three hefty suitcases.

Tired, I stopped in the middle of the living room and yawned again.

"Where were you? I told you to wait here-" I cut him off again.

"How was your dad?" I asked to change the subject, rubbing the back of my aching neck.

Chris emptied the contents of his pockets on the coffee table and flailed his arms.

"He's fine." Chris basically barked at me.

I nodded, glad to hear things were better.

"Can we talk now?" I asked with a hopeful inflection.

"I'd rather not." He grumbled, walking towards the kitchen. There, Chris searched for beer, or any alcohol, really.

I pulled my lips into my mouth and frowned. "You rather not," I mocked. "You've been drinking?"

"Amongst other things, yeah."

I watched him stare back at me and could see the wheels turning, knowing he was about to be combative.

I wanted to just say good night, let him drink himself to sleep and then wake up normal, but I couldn't bite my tongue this time.

"If you're so fucking mad at me, why'd you do all of this? Why'd you ask me to come back here?" I snapped.

I instantly regretted saying anything so I dropped my hands from my hips and went to the bedroom, hoping he wouldn't care enough to follow. He didn't want to talk, anyway.

My back remained to the door even after it opened. He does care. I knew he did, just hoped an argument wouldn't follow.

"My dad said he loves you." Chris talked to me, his skin-shuddering voice almost snapping me out of my feelings.

I discreetly wiped my eyes because I'm just emotional and didn't want to let Chris see me crying, I'm always crying.

"He did?" I sniffled.

"And he said you're a pretty sweet girl." I laughed as Chris recited the words Carter told me before.

"I'm not mad at you, Ann. Actually, I'm proud of you." Chris's words made me melt.

Like his father, he had a funny way of showing even positive feelings.

"You're proud?"

He wrapped his arms around me and held my body tight.

"Yeah. You've been so strong and patient throughout all of this. I don't know how you did it."

His lips were warm against my cheek and I started to crack a smile.

"All day I thought you were mad at me."

"No," he said all too fast and insistent. "No not at all.  Morgan, I love you. Too much. And I've been scared, stressed. I don't know what to do." He sat with defeat.

I took a second to relish in his vulnerability as it rarely comes in forms other than anger and a shouting match.

I crouched down between his knees that I pushed apart and made him look into my eyes.

"Baby," I cooed, "I love you the most. And it's okay to be scared, I am, too. Err, I was. I didn't know how today would go, but I trusted you, and here we are. All that matters is Carter is okay, and we're together now, right?"

He didn't want to, but shook his head and said, "You're right."

I smiled warmly, wrapping my arms around Chris's neck.

I sat on his lap hoping to end the night with some much needed tension relief AKA getting my back blown out, but judging by the distant look in his eyes, Chris had other plans.

"What?" I asked him.

Chris shook his head, jaw tight. "He's still out there. Somewhere."

I heard him. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

I didn't believe that. "Chris, what are you going to do?" I repeated.

"I don't fucking know, yet!" He roared, standing.

I didn't let his frustration deter me this time. Remembering all the pain Malcolm caused, I could understand Chris's conflict. No one knew where he was but I knew Chris wouldn't let him off so easily.

"Don't worry," Chris said, pacing, "I'm not going to kill him."

I grabbed his hands and looked Chris dead in the eyes. "He put your father in the hospital, Chris. This isn't just about what he did you you or me anymore. Fuck what I said before, about the fighting and violence. I hope he dies."

~~~

Our talk ended surprisingly well. After he told me all about New York and Malcolm's part in that, too, we vowed to be transparent and affirmed our commitment. It was sweet, honestly, never in a million years did I think I'd have such an adult conversation with the man of my dreams.

I fell asleep with Chris's arms snug around my body. I knew his arms would fall asleep but he didn't care because I was comfortable.

Though, when I woke up, Chris wasn't in bed. This wasn't the first time he pulled such a stunt knowing I hated waking up alone, especially while it was still dark out. I know, I'm a baby - he's spoiled me, what can I say?

"Chris?" I called out his name, just thinking he was in the kitchen or watching the game in the living room.

No answer.

I turned on the lights and walked around the apartment. No sign of him.

Before panicking, I called his phone. It was off.

"Damn it!" I yelled, throwing my phone onto the couch cushions.

Worry overcame me. Where was he? What is he going to do?

I turned on the tv and raced around the couch to retrieve my phone so I could make more phone calls.

There was nothing on any of the local news channels, thank God. No riots, no death, no burning buildings, no updates on Malcolm's whereabouts.

Maybe he really did skip town, I thought. I mean, he shot someone in front of the whole town, it wouldn't be wise to show his face again.

I couldn't just sit around and wait with no idea where Chris was or what he could be doing so I changed into a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Next, I grabbed the keys and hurried towards the door. However, I stopped in place with my mouth agape, seeing a note attached to it. It read:

I love you, Ann, and I know we're supposed to be together but there's something I have to do. He hurt you and I can't live with that.

I know his heart and accepted whatever it is that would come of this. As Chris often says, what's understood doesn't have to be explained.