She used her momentum to tilt into a one-handed cartwheel away from him. Moving backwards, she tried to keep him in her sights and watch out for stray bullets. A sharp sting across the back of her calf brought her to one knee just as the guy swung his blade.
She lifted the tonfa and deflected. Rolling to the side, she came up behind the car. Screams and cries for help were mixed with the gunfire now. She blocked out everything but the guy with the nasty smile and even nastier blade.
“We don’t have to do this,” she said. “I only want the boy.”
“I want your heart!” the guy growled.
Midnight scoffed. “I’m a little fond of it. I do all my best living and breathing with this heart.”
The guy sneered and struck. She blocked again with the tonfa, brought it up with a snap under his chin and then struck his cheek with a resounding crack. He spun with the force of it, blood splattering in an arc before he hit the ground.
Midnight took off running. She stumbled as a bullet found her side. Tightening her grip on the tonfa, she willed her feet to keep moving.
Soon she was in the shadows of the cargo containers, pressed against the side, listening. A muffled sob to her left caused her to breathe a sigh of relief until she heard another voice.
“You thought you'd go Yellow Jacket?! You’re dead, punk.”
Midnight peered around the corner.
“Don’t shoot him, Reggie,” she ordered in a low voice.
The boy was lying on his back, staring at the older boy standing over him. At the sound of her voice, Reggie shifted to the side, his eyes flashing toward her.
She lifted her hands, one still holding her tonfa, and stepped out from behind the container.
“Stay out of this, Midnight,” Reggie growled.
Midnight smiled ruefully and took another step forward. “I can’t do that this time, Reggie. I promised Aaron’s grandparents that I would bring him home.”
Reggie turned his angry face to the quietly sobbing boy. “He shouldn’t have joined the wrong gang!”
Midnight continued advancing. “He shouldn’t have joined any gang,” she said. The same was true for Reggie, but she didn't say so.
“He made his mistake, now he can die with it,” Reggie retorted.
Midnight’s face hardened. “He’s thirteen, Reggie." She kept her voice calm. "Let me take him and none of you will ever see him again. I promise.”
Her eyes flashed to the gun. His hand was shaking.
“Killing someone takes a piece of your soul that you can never get back. It leaves a dark hole that you will never be able to climb out of. Think of Teddy. Your brother is almost the same age. Do you want this life for him? Do you want him to be lying on the ground a year from now staring up at the barrel of a gun?”
Reggie’s eyes flashed with fire. “You leave Teddy out of this.”
“I can’t do that. If that were Teddy lying on the ground and I promised to save him, you know that I would do it—no matter who was holding the gun.”
She stopped when she was less than a foot from him. “Go home, Reggie. Go be a big brother. You can have a life. You can be more than a faded memory to Teddy and a weeping hole in your mom’s heart.”
Reggie’s throat worked up and down. “Biggy….”
Midnight placed her hand on his arm and applied gentle but consistent pressure until he was pointing the gun at the ground. Reggie looked at her, fear and hopelessness in his eyes.
“I'll give you my grace. Biggy will respect that and so will the other members. A life for a life. I’m giving you your life in exchange for Aaron’s.”
She pulled the gun from his hand.
Her heart ached for the sixteen-year-old who had grown up too hard and too fast. A sigh left her when she realized that the only way for Reggie to truly get away would be if his family moved from the area.
“If your mom could take you and your brother to any place in the world, where would you go?” she suddenly asked.