Chapter 2-
"What happened?" Tru questioned quietly through her tears. She was sitting, stooped down beside Harrison so that her eyes were even with her brother's pale face. After a moment's silence, she peered over her shoulder at Davis, who in turn stared at the ground sadly.
"From what I gather, he got in an argument with—someone on the street. Guy pulled a gun on him, and, well…" Davis's voice trailed off. Tru turned back to Harrison, her hand gently stroking a cool cheek through his wavy golden locks. Gingerly, she rested her head against his arm which was hidden beneath a white sleeve and cried quietly.
"Please, no…just ask me, Harrison—I don't want you to go…please, ask me for help—I promise I'll help you…" she whispered through her tears.
"I'm sorry, Tru. Look, why don't you go back home—get some rest? I'll take care of things here."
"Thanks, Davis," Tru replied as she stood, wiped the tears from her eyes, and turned to face him. "Call me if you need me here, okay?"
"I will," Davis promised as Tru walked away from the limp and bloody body of her brother. She embraced him as tears filled her eyes once more.
"You're the best friend I could ask for," she whispered through the curtain of tears veiling her face once again.
"It'll be okay, Tru, I promise. Now, go on home. I'll call you later—let you know what's going on, okay?"
"Alright." Tru walked toward the door, but stopped. "Oh, and Davis?" She looked at Davis over her shoulder. He had already turned and was walking toward Harrison.
"Yeah?" He looked up at her.
"Thanks again," she answered, smiling weakly. He smiled back at her before responding. "No problem."
Tru reached the doorway and lingered there, a sudden uneasiness filling the air around her. The slightest hint of a voice whispered past her ears, seeming to fill the entire room, echoing off of every wall. She hesitated before turning to look over her shoulder at Davis.
"What?" she queried nervously.
Davis looked up at her, baffled. "I…didn't say anything, Tru."
Tru thought through her confusion for a moment, then looked past Davis. Staring at her with wide eyes was Harrison.
"Harrison?"
"Tru…please…" he murmured weakly. For a moment nothing happened.
"Help me," came the foreign whisper that she longed to comprehend. Then, before her eyes the day began to rewind, flying past her like cars on a highway.
The smell of sweat battered her as she awoke. It took a moment for her to remember.
"Harrison," she whispered urgently, and quickly pushed the bedcovers from around her. Standing up, she glanced at the alarm clock that glowed a blood-red 6:00am. She fumbled across the piles of papers, coins, and other various trinkets, finally uncovering an analogue phone.
Picking up the receiver and holding it against her ear, she started to dial Harrison's number. Before she could, however, she realized something odd. No dial tone. Something wasn't right…
It didn't matter. She placed the receiver back on the base and began searching for her cell phone. Groping around inside her purse, she searched blindly for the cell. Thankfully, she found it. Opening the phone, Tru dialed Harrison's number with shaky fingers.
Please pick it up, Harrison—please, she thought as it started ringing. It rang three times, and halfway through the fourth ring, Harrison picked up.
"H'lo?" Harrison's sleepy voice sounded.
"Harrison! Thank God…" Tru replied, relieved.
"Hiya, sis. What's up—it's six in the morning!"
"Harrison, where are you?" she questioned, ignoring his question.
"Tru, is everything okay?" he asked, a note of curiosity meandering into his voice.
"I need to talk to you."
"What'sa matter?"
"You're in danger," Tru retorted bluntly. Only silence filled the other end of the line.
"Oh, I get it. Another one of those days, huh Tru?" he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. If there was one thing Harrison could not do, it had to be take things seriously.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, it was," she returned irritably.
"Alright, what'd I do this time?"
"You got yourself shot."
"Ah, don't worry about it, Tru—I'll be careful. You were probably just dreaming anyway."
"Well, gimme the details—how'd it happen?"
"Not sure—I wasn't there. Davis says that, from what he understands, you got into an argument and the guy pulled a gun on you."
"So…what do I need to do—walk on the other side of the street?" he asked sarcastically.
"Well, you could try keeping your fat mouth shut for a change," Tru suggested. Silence. "Right…I doubt you could handle that."
"C'mon, Tru. Be serious."
"You're the one saying 'walk on the other side of the street,' Mr. Ten-Feet-Tall-and-Bullet-Proof," she snapped.
"Okay, well…what do I do?"
"I'm coming over to pick you up. We'll think of something then."
"Alright. Later." Harrison hung up. Tru tossed the cell phone back into her purse. Quickly she slipped on her clothes and shoes. Grabbing the black pocket book, she hastily locked the door. Tru briskly climbed down the stairs and went to the parking lot. Climbing into the driver's side of the car, she cranked the engine. Backing out of the parking spot, she put the car into Drive, and punched the gas. The tires screamed painfully as she sped out of the parking lot.
Author's Note: Writer's Block is vanquished (for now) thanks to you people who reviewed. Seriously—I was reading the reviews yesterday and was inspired…go figure! Anyway, I do realize that this is a REALLY cheesy cliffhanger…I have a good reason for making this chap so long—I realized how short the first one was so I made up for it! Yay . New chap soon! Hope you enjoyed! Help me come up with a chapter title, too! That's why I took so long to put this up (I wrote it over the weekend)...