My Convict

19 - Fuckin f**k Ups✔️

+Brandy

"What. The .Fuck!" I whisper to myself. 

It's the only three words that I can conjure up to say. My mind is all over the place, desperately trying to come up with something. Just anything at this point. 

For the first time in a very long time, I feel like how I first felt when my mom first told me about her diagnostics. 

Petrified. 

I hated that feeling. It always made me feel... weak. 

I can feel it now, fear, creeping over me like some sort of hungry animal. Boxing me into some sort of cage. 

"Shoot him!" Mia screams, but I'm too busy staring at the amount of blood that's squirting out of her leg to even follow through with her command. 

Can she even walk?  

This is bad, very bad. 

We're screwed!

My eyes dance from her to the same red-haired bastard from earlier, that currently has a Glock pointed at me. He's shouting something, but I can't hear what, the police sirens are getting closer. 

I want to shoot him. I really do, but for some reason, I can't shake off the fear that has settled within me. 

Mia picks up her gun and fires back at the man, missing him by inches. The sound of the gun being fired is enough to snap me out of my trance. "A, we need back up!" I say to Elijah, finally gaining the courage to fire my gun. My bullets hit the man straight in the stomach and hand, causing him to drop the gun instantly. I watch in slow motion as the gun lands on the ground, firing on impact. 

That second bullet shoots straight into the skull of a woman standing nearby, scattering her blood and brains onto the walls and onto the several other people around her. Everyone cries in panic, scattering around like ants when someone steps in their anthill. 

"Oh my God." I hear Mia say in shock. 

"Get out of there now before you guy's get caught!" Elijah yells. "Savannah and Michelle are already gone, they'll be compromised if they come back for the both of you. I'm stalling, but it won't be enough. Go now!"

Quickly putting my gun in my waist strap. I grab ahold of the remaining money bags and the back of Mia's vest and with all the strength I could muster up, drag them away. "Shoot anyone that gets close to us," I say loud enough for her to hear. 

Stepping outside, there was already a patrol car outside. "Put your hands up!" Two cops shout, with their guns aimed at us. I ignore them and keep on towards the car. My muscles ache as we move. Mia does what she's supposed to do and shoots them before they shoot us. I'm not sure if they're dead, but I do know the shot was good enough to put them down. 

Pushing Mia into the back seat, with the bags, I shut the door and hurry into the driver seat. Putting the key into the ignition, I start the car and drive off. 

"What the f**k was that?!" Savannah yells through the earpiece. 

"Yeah, what the f**k was that?" Mia yells angrily. "Why the f**k did you freeze up like that. You could've gotten us caught Brandy! Now the cops have my blood! They probably already know it's me who was in there!" She says furiously. "We could've gotten caught or worse, I could've lost the baby!" She blurts out, shocking her own damn self. 

I keep my eyes focused on the road, biting down on my lips to keep my body from shaking. I take slow breaths, due to me still being in shock. "Breathe... just keep breathing," I mutter softly to myself. Those words comfort me in a way. It's what I'd used to say to my mom when she'd thrown up, unexpectedly. One of the side effects of her taking her medications. 

"Baby!?" Elijah questions, clearly frustrated. "What the f**k do you mean baby?!" 

"You're f*****g pregnant Mia and you went through this heist without freaking informing us. Are you crazy!" Yells Savannah. 

Mia punches the back of the seat, regretting her choice of words. "Fuck." She huffs. "Seriously? That's the last thing we should be worried about. What we need to be talking about is how Brandy almost f****d up everything by f*****g freezing up! Like what the f**k?!" 

"Deep breaths," I mutter, following the route Elijah laid out for us. I keep my speed to a minimum, not wanting to catch the attention of any other cops. My face is now drenched in sweat because of the heavy mask pressed against my face. I wasn't going to take it off, not until I was safe. 

Really safe. 

"Brandy, did you know about this?!" Elijah's angry voice rings through my ear. 

Ignore him... ignore them, my conscience tells me. My heart was beating so fast, that for a second I questioned if I was having a heart attack. 

I'm way too young to have a heart attack. It was probably a Panic attack, maybe even an anxiety attack. 

I'm way too freaked out right now to be sure. 

"Brandy, are you alright?" Michelle questions. 

Finally, someone with a good question. 

I'm not sure what to answer, but I think it's pretty clear that I wasn't fine. 

Who the f**k would be fine after seeing that... after causing that. 

"You f*****g knew and you didn't tell us!" Yells Elijah. "We are a team, we don't keep f*****g secrets. Especially ones this big. You guys would have cost us this whole heist!" 

Michelle steps in. "Everyone, calm down. Now isn't the time for this, let's just get back to the warehouse first. Then we can clear this whole thing out." She tries to reason. "Brandy, you haven't answered my question yet. Are you alright?" 

"Who gives a f**k if she's alright. I'm f*****g bleeding to death over here! I'm shot, remember. My leg is on fire and it hurts like f*****g hell." Says Mia. 

"You're f*****g pregnant Mia," Savannah says lowly, trying to grasp it all. 

"Guys, stop cursing. Just calm down. Brandy, are you okay?"

Trying to get onto the next lane, the car behind cuts me off causing me to slam down my breaks. Something sets off me and it doesn't take a genius to realize it's anger. I honk my horn, my hand pressing into the heart part of the steering wheel. "You f*****g i***t!" I yell in rage, switching to the next lane. "No Michelle, I'm not f*****g fine. I feel like my heart is about to explode!" I snap. "Yes, Elijah. Mia is pregnant and I knew about it but I was going to make sure she told you tonight. It should've been sooner, but Jesus! There was literally no time to inform you all about it. And if we're being honest, what would it solve if you guys did know?! Nothing! We would've still needed her since we've got no one else to take her place." 

"Brandy, take a breath," Michelle says, trying to calm me down. 

"You take a f*****g breath!" I scream, causing her to gasp. "Mia, I'm not to blame for that man shooting you. For f**k sakes, I can't control what he did. And for your information, you've got a flesh wound. Nothing important was hit, you'll be alright. And as long as your blood isn't in the police database, (which it isn't) they don't know shit." My grip on the steering wheel was so tight that my hands were getting numb. "An innocent woman just died. She f*****g died because I froze up. Because I made a stupid last-minute decision. And that's... that's gonna stay with me forever. I'm gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life. So if you guys wanna talk about something... talk about that."

Everyone's quiet. 

A lump forms in my throat again, and everything feels numb. 

I blink and tears flow down to my cheeks, mingling in with both my mask and my sweat. 

Breathe, just keep breathing.

Mia groans from the backseat, gripping her bloody leg. "I don't think this is a flesh wound. There's too much blood." She clenches her teeth. "Can we pull over? I feel light-headed." 

Reaching a stoplight, I turn around to get a look at her leg. "Shit." I curse. It definitely wasn't a flesh wound. From a different angle, it did look like it but now that I'm really seeing it... it's bad. "The bullet is still in there, that's why it's bleeding too much." 

Mia gulps. "Am I gonna lose my leg?" 

The light flashes green and I go. "You want me to lie to you or be honest?"

"Honest, of course." She breathes. 

"You won't lose your leg but you could lose your ability to do certain functions. For example, moving your toes, bending, stuff like that. And from the way you're bleeding, I'm sure you're gonna need a blood transfusion. Do you know your blood type?" 

"A positive." 

"I'm B negative, so that's not gonna work. Anyone else knows their blood type?" 

"I'm O negative. She can have my blood." Michelle says. 

"No, she can't." Savannah interferes. "You're anemic. Anemic people can't donate. I'm A negative, but I can't donate either. It hasn't been a year yet since my tattoo. Elijah? What about you?" She questions. 

"A positive, I can do it." He answers. 

"Okay good. Now how exactly are we going to get the tools needed? Because we only have one first aid kit at the warehouse." 

"I've got it covered, just worry about reaching the construction site." Says Elijah. "I'll meet you guys back at the warehouse." 

"Wait, you're hanging up?" 

"Yes, Brandy. I've got people to call and messes to fix." He snaps. "You guys follow through with the direction. Get to the site, burn the cars and then get back to the warehouse. Drive smart, keep your heads down and you won't get caught. If there are any changes, I'll call back." Before I can object, his earpiece cuts off. 

"We're ten minutes away Brandy, how about you guys?" Savannah asks. 

Looking at the name of the street, I sigh. "Sixteen tops." Taking my pocket knife from my vest, I pass it back to Mia. "Here, keep yourself busy. Cut the straps off a bag, and use it to keep pressure on your wound. It's gonna hurt, so don't be surprised at the pain. Whatever you do, don't fall asleep." 

"Mia, why didn't you tell us?" Savannah asks. "Like I get why you told Brandy and why you didn't want to tell Elijah. But I'm not understanding why you didn't tell us." 

Mia sighs. "I didn't want to be judged. Hell, especially not by you guys. Savannah you would've judged me, just like how you're judging me now. You're very judgmental. And Michelle, keeping a secret isn't one of your strongest traits." 

Savannah scoffs. "I'm not judgmental." 

Michelle chuckles. "Yes, you are Savannah." 

"Okay, maybe I can be judgmental but only a little. And it's because I care." 

"That's a very toxic way of showing people that you care." Says Mia. 

"Very." 

"Who's the father?" Michelle asks. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to." 

Mia clears her throat. "No, it's fine... it's um... it's, Tyson." 

Savannah bursts out laughing. "You're so funny girl, now quit playing and tell us who's the father." Mia stays quiet, which Savannah takes notice. She gasps. "What the f**k Mia?! You slept with Tyson? Our friend Tyson that has a girlfriend!!! The same girlfriend you stick up for when Michelle speaks badly on? What the f**k!" 

"So much for girl code." Michelle mumbles. 

They soon get into an argument, which results in me tuning them out. I didn't want to hear that s**t right now, especially since there were more important things going on in the world. 

For instance... people dying. 

More tears build up in my eyes and I try my best to hold them in but fail. What I wanted to do most right now was lay in bed and cuddle with my son. I wanted to hear the sound of his little voice as he read to me the third chapter of his favorite book, explaining to me why he hated a certain character. And as much as I hated myself for it, I wanted Elijah to console me. 

A hand falls on my shoulder and my eyes quickly snap towards the rearview mirror. It was Mia, comforting me. "It's okay to cry. There's no need to hold it in." She tells me. "I'm sorry for blaming you. None of this is your fault... you're gonna be alright." 

I hope she's right. 

—————

We got to the warehouse around four in the afternoon. There were three cars parked outside, one that obviously belonged to Elijah and the other two, unknown. Savannah and Michelle helped carry a bloody Mia inside, while I stayed outside gathering the bags filled with money. 

"Hello again." A familiar voice speaks, snapping me out of my thoughts. Looking up, I see Wyatt. Kelly's brother in law. "Oh don't tell me you forgot my name already. It's only been a couple of days." 

"I didn't forget it, it's Wyatt," I answered. "Can't really forget a name like that, it's a pretty common white boy name." 

"Italian, but yeah I see your point. Tuff day?" He questions, motioning towards the dry blood on my hands. 

My face remains expressionless the same for my voice. "What gave it away?" 

"Your hair." He jokes. "Kidding. Besides the blood on your hands, your face was a dead giveaway. You look stressed out. Wanna talk about it?" I shake my head which causes him to groan. "Oh don't tell me you're one of those people that thinks talking about their problem is useless. I heard that makes you a Psychopath." A small smile appears on my face. "Would you look at that, a smile. Maybe you aren't psychopathic." 

I shake my head. "You call all the women you talk to a Psychopath?" 

He shrugs. "Only the ones I'm trying to make smile and of course, impress. You'd be surprised by how much men don't know how to pronounce the word Psychopathy, let alone use it in a sentence." He tilts his head, moving closer. "Actually, now that I think about it I've only called one woman a Psychopath. You think she caught the drift that I like her." 

"From the way you're blabbering, it's pretty hard not to notice." We both chuckle. 

"You mind if I help you carry that?" He points at the bags of money. "Kelly says, it's always best to ask a woman before helping them. Something about how it's sexist to just assume a woman needs my help."

"She doesn't need your help," Elijah says, walking from behind him. He looked annoyed as he walked towards me. "But I'm sure Kevin wouldn't mind your help though Wyatt. He seems like he needs it."

Elijah stands by me now, his hands crossed. "I'm sure he can wait. Helping Brandy wouldn't take that long." Wyatt challenges. 

Elijah glares at him. "I'm sure he would mind." He presses. 

Wyatt looks between Elijah and me before chuckling. "We'll finish our talk later Brandy. I'm glad I could get you to smile." 

"Thanks," I say as he walks away. 

Once he's out of sight, Elijah turns to look at me. "That day in the room, when I first approached you about this whole thing what did I tell you?"

I shrug. "You told me a lot of things that day, be more specific." 

Anger flashes through his eyes. "I told you, Brandy, don't lie to me. You can do anything, anything at all. Just not lie. But then what do you do, you lie to me." He says angrily. "You did the one thing I told you not to do. I f*****g hate liars!" 

"I didn't f*****g lie, it was just a secret." 

"They're the same s**t!" He yells. "You kept important information away from me. If Mia had died today, not only would her parents have lost another child, but they would've lost their grandkid as well. If you would've told me that she was pregnant, she'd been off the team that same day! I would've found someone else to take her place. Why? Because I wouldn't risk the life of a pregnant woman!" 

"..." My mouth stays shut. He had a point. 

Elijah licks his lips. "How do you expect me to trust you when you won't even tell me things I'm supposed to know. These 'secrets' that you keep, they're gonna get us killed!" 

"Stop guilting me! I'm not the only one that has secrets, you've got them too!"

"Of course I've got them, who doesn't! But any secret that's bound to get any of us hurt, I've told you them. I'm an open book Brandy and you aren't. That's what you're not getting." 

"What do you want me to do Elijah?! Say sorry?" I question. "Because if that's what you want, then I'm sorry. I'm sorry for f*****g up." My eyes can barely look at him. "My shot... that's what you wanna talk about. Go ahead!" 

"You already know what I'm gonna say."

"Just say it!"

"You should've shot him in the legs." He admits. My heart stops. He sighs deeply, looking at me. "What? That's what you wanted me to say. So I said it. I don't care if you're crying, you should've listened to your orders. I'm not gonna sit here and sugar coat it for you, Brandy. Just like how I'm not gonna cradle and pamper you. I'm not that type of man. Every action has a consequence, deal with it." 

"I hate you." 

The words spill out my mouth before I've even got a chance to process it. 

Elijah's face remains expressionless but it's not enough to keep me from seeing that my words hurt him. His eyes dilated and his Adam's apple bobbed. "Good." 

"Elijah. They're ready for you." Savannah calls, stepping outside. 

He steps away from me and goes straight for the money. Picking up the majority of the bags, he gives me one final look before walking away. 

"What was that about?" Savannah asks, getting the rest of the bags. 

I take one of them out of her hands and close the truck. "Nothing, just bullshit," I mumble. "Complete utter bullshit." 

"This is why I don't do relationships." She comments as we walk. "Before you go in there, you should know that the television is on. The news is broadcasting the heist." I gulp. It must've been bad if she was telling me this. 

Walking inside the warehouse, the first person my eyes land on is Elijah. He's laying back in his chair, trying his best not to squirm as Michelle slaps his arm to see a vain. He once told me about his fear of needles and how he tried his best to avoid them. I'm surprised he's actually going through with the whole donating thing. His eyes find mine, before disappearing to glance at something else. Michelle finally sticks the needle in, which resorts to him biting his lower lips. 

He looks like a baby. 

Kevin, who I'm just realizing is here, bursts into fits of laughter. Roasting Elijah for his fear of needles. 

Mia lays down on the nearest air mattress, as she talks with both Wyatt and some other guy, who has a really nice Afro. It looks like he just got a blowout, the way his hair was standing up and shining effortlessly. He kinda has the same shade of skin as me, just a little more tanned. I find myself turning to get a better look at him, but I stop hearing the voice of the female news anchor. 

"As I stated earlier Tim, it's a sickening tragedy. We've got several officers injured, one of them being the security personnel at the bank. He's pronounced in critical condition, dealing with a head injury. Which investigators say is connected to him being hit in the head with a gun. There are a total of two people dead, both a man and a woman. The man is known as Nicolas Foster, one of Germany's most known billionaire/entrepreneur. And a woman, identified as Tara Rockwell, a mother of two. According to witnesses, Foster shot one of the assailants but was then put down by another. Foster bleed out and died at the scene. Rockwell was a victim of the crossfire and due to her injuries, died instantly." 

The camera appears back on the male anchor, who isn't at the scene. "Such a sad story." He says, shaking his head. "Right now investigators are still investigating, but here are what they know so far. The four masked people who committed this crime were prepared. Many of the security cameras were disabled, only catching glances and shadows of the assailants. They've got no positive ID on anyone. A total of Twenty billion dollars has been taken from the vault, which is all unmarked. Police ask that if anyone has any information about this, that they call 404-577-TIPS(8477) or e-mail the anonymous information using the online form at www.crimestoppersatlanta.org. The tip can result in a reward of up to $2,000 to the individual who supplied the information needed to solve the case." The news cuts off and I'm stuck with the aftermath.

"Tara Rockwell... a mother of two." It continues to play in my mind over and over again. "Tara Rockwell, a mother of two." She was a mother of two and now she's gone. Her kids won't grow up with a mom... because of me. It's my fault... It's all my fault. 

I feel sick. 

Not cold sick but sick, as in twisted. 

What the f**k is wrong with me?

How could I do this? 

"Brandy," Savannah calls, trying to catch my attention. 

"I'm fine." I'm not. An innocent woman is dead because of me. Dropping the bag on the ground, I slowly back away. "I'm gonna get dressed. So I can pick up Ej." Tara Rockwell, a mother of two. My head hurts, my eyes burn. Tara Rockwell, a mother of two. "He's getting out soon." Tara Rockwell, a mother of two.

"Do you want me to come with you?" 

Tara Rockwell, a mother of two.

I blink, trying to keep myself together. "No. I'll get him myself." Before she can say anything else, I'm out the door. Tears cloud my vision as my hands twitched for something to hit. 

Tara Rockwell, a mother of two.

The air grows thick and the clouds move steadily against the familiar grey sky. The world seems to fall in stillness, as anger stirs in my heart. In the silence comes a low crackle of thunder, my body stiffens at the sound. Rain begins to pour from the sky and then eventually it starts to downpour. Not wanting to get my hair wet, I sit in the car and watch it unfold. 

This wasn't just rain... it was tears. 

Tears of the mother who lost her life because of me.

I needed to make things right. 

Not only for my sake but for hers too.