Cold Brew and Bullets (Part 1 of the Syndicate Series)

Eliana-

I absolutely hated hospitals. They smelled like antiseptic and were blindingly bright, not to mention that they inspired terrible memories that I had tried for a long time to forget. The last time that I was in one, I lost the closest thing that I ever had to a sister. This time, I was afraid that I was going to lose a father.

He's going to be fine. He's out of surgery and they're just keeping him here for observation to be safe.

I repeated variations of that sentence in my head, over and over like a mantra. Alessio's appearance had been a pleasant surprise and he served as a great distraction, but now that his warmth and presence were gone, nothing could stave off the panic I felt now that I sat alone.

My feet were too restless, even though I was starting to feel exhaustion, and suddenly they were taking me back and forth on the tile in front of Ezrah's room. Sunlight was flooding the halls now, but it was only making the memories worse.

Ellie, go. Now. You can't help me.

I shivered. I had to leave. Everything was coming back, full force. I didn't want to remember her message, I didn't want to remember her face the last time I had seen her. I didn't even want to remember the sacrifice she had made for me, it made my stomach roil and my mind go blank.

"Excuse me," I tried to regain my breath as I stopped by the nurse's station. "Will it still be a couple of hours before he wakes up?"

She glanced at the watch on her wrist, then a clipboard with papers on it, "Yes, probably three, if not more."

"Thank you."

I headed to the elevators, ignoring the irony of my situation. Not long ago, I had been adamant that I needed to leave the warmth of my apartment and Alessio to get back here, but now I was desperate to get out of the walls as quick as possible. Memories have the uncanny ability to override our sense of rationality and reasonability.

There was nowhere that I wanted to go, nowhere that I wanted to be. I needed a distraction, and the only thing I could think to do was work. In a way, I was a workaholic- I used it to distract myself from my problems and it made me feel needed, so I often didn't pay attention to the hours I would spend at the shop, even if they made me feel exhausted and worn down.

The small slip of paper in my pocket bearing Alessio's cell phone number on it was completely forgotten, but when my feet found their way to the shop I remembered it. I could have asked him to have driven me, but even though it was cold it wasn't too long of a walk and I needed to clear my head.

My breathing was somewhat by the time I reached our street. Just being out of the building had helped, but adrenaline and nerves still coursed through my veins, battling for dominance. Some of the stress seized my muscles once more when I arrived to see that there was still police tape around the building and a couple of police cars nearby. Seeing the cops inspired an instinct to run in the opposite direction for me, a habit formed in the crucible of street life. These people don't know me, I had to remind myself. I look different now and I've crossed state lines, and it wasn't like anyone was actively looking for me anymore.

The presence of these people still made my hands sweat as I walked up to the nearest one. "Excuse me, officer?"

The man turned around, glancing me up and down. I was good at reading people, and this man sent a shiver down my spine. For some reason, he didn't feel like a normal cop. "Yes?"

"Do you know when this will no longer be an active crime scene? I'm one of the managers here and I would like to clean up the shop and get my things that I left here last night."