"Are you a cop?" the voice asked, foot pressing into her head as her body shook, the fear enveloping her.
"I'm Gabriela Dawson, Firehouse 51. I need your help. My brother's a cop and he was shot last night. Your girls are getting dropped with bad dope, and you know it's because the Red Hooks are trying to move in on you." She hesitated, bottom lip quivering. "Voight told me you could get somebody to testify against the Red Hooks." TT waited a few seconds before leaning down, gun cocking and pressing against her temple.
"You come 'round here again, I'm gonna blow your head clean off. Do you understand me?" A small cry escaped her lips as she nodded her head, fully understanding the threat that was being made. She waited a few seconds, until his footsteps disappeared behind a shutting door. Once it seemed safe, she scrambled to her feet and ran out of the building and to her car.
Gabby bolted upright, a gasp barely audible. She could still feel the gun against her head, could hear his voice echoing in her mind. Looking around, she felt Matt next to her still sound asleep. She had never told him what she'd done for Antonio, never told him of what had happened. It wasn't something he needed to know. It wasn't something anybody needed to know.
It had been nearly six years since Antonio's close call. She couldn't believe it had been that long, seeming like just yesterday. She pulled the covers down, standing up. The hardwood cold on her feet. Slowly, she made her way into the adjacent room, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door opened with ease, then she made her way across the room to look down at the sleeping form.
She couldn't believe their son was six months old already. Gently, she picked him up. He didn't wake, taking after his father and inheriting the sleep of the dead. She sat down in the rocking chair next to the crib, softly rocking. A part of her wanted to tell Matt. It had happened so long ago, and yet it still bothered her. She wouldn't tell Antonio. That was a definate. He would kill her, despite knowing she had good intentions.
"You okay?" Matt asked from the doorway. She could tell he was still tired as he leaned against the frame. Her first instinct was to tell him everything was fine, but instead she took a couple deep breaths before standing and returning Landon to his crib. Her hand rested on her son's chest for a couple more seconds before she turned to Casey, leading them back to their bedroom. "You didn't answer my question."
"Do you remember when Antonio was shot because of the prostitutes getting bad dope?" she asked. He sat them down on the bed and nodded. "I wanted to help, so I went and saw Voight." The look on his face was of hatred at the mention of the detective's name. Even though they were on decent terms now, back then they weren't. At all. "He told me to go talk to a guy who could help. Instead of helping," she took a deep breath, not sure how to explain it.
"Baby, what happened?" he asked. She blinked a couple times, avoiding eye contact as she tried to hold back the tears.
"He threw me to the ground," she started. "And, uh. He pointed a gun at my head, letting me explain why I was there at first. Sometimes I can still feel his boot on my head." It took a couple more breaths before she continued. "When he wasn't satisfied with my answer, he pressed the gun against my head and told me if I ever showed up again, he'd shoot me." Matt's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him. "I usually forget about it, but sometimes it comes back to haunt me."
"You're safe now," he assured her, kissing her temple. She knew he was right, but there was the fear that he'd find her somehow. She had told him her full name for god's sakes! Mind you, her name was different now, but she was still at the same firehouse, and now she had a family to worry about.
"I hope you're right." Her voice cracking at the end.