REENA WAS SITTING with her back leaning on a pillow in the loft while feeling the pendant of her necklace between her fingers. Steadfast as she might seem, deep inside, she was feeling so downhearted for ignoring Claude. For countless times, she struggled so hard not to give in, always looking away when she would catch him gazing at her. Her heart melted when he spoke to her on New Year's Eve despite getting no response and by the way he reacted toward her in the morning. Maybe, Tommy was right that night when he said that Claude was sincere with her.
What made it more difficult now was her discovery of her current condition. She didn't know if it was right, but upon thinking about it, she surmised that Claude had to know.
A crashing noise downstairs jumped Reena from her daze. Disoriented, she pushed herself up albeit feeling dizzy all day. The morning sickness was taking a toll on her, and it felt like she was giddy the entire time. Weakly, she stepped toward the stairs, aiming to check why Claude would storm inside the apartment that way. As she made it to the edge, she was surprised to see not him but a man with narrow eyes in a dark blue suit climbing up.
Upon seeing him, Reena reflexively grabbed the nearest object to her – a lampshade – and threw it at the approaching man. The man shielded himself by crossing his arms over his face, though the bottom part of the lamp still got him, cutting a tiny lesion on his forehead. He leaped forward to catch her, but she threw herself on the bed and scooted toward the other side, hastily rushing down the stairs.
Her hopes sank, however, when she found two other men standing at the doorway looking at her. She ran to the other side of the lounge, behind the couch, and threw at them everything she could get a hold of – vases, glasses, figurines. The men just kept on protecting their heads whilst hissing and shouting words she could not understand.
Overwhelmed by panic, Reena could not understand why there were strange men in the room. They did not look like Cartel members or Leones, but they did not look friendly either. If any, they resembled the looks of Claude's current boss – Asuka Kasen, and she surmised that probably, they were members of the Yakuza.
Why are they trying to get me?! Her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what was happening.
As the man upstairs climbed down, the two others went to both sides of the lounge, blocking her way. She saw them open their arms as if getting ready to catch her if ever she decided to run in their direction. Reena stood still, slightly stooping.
Come on, Reena, think!
The man on the left started charging at her, trying to trap her between his lengthy arms. She scurried to the other side only to be caught by the other. His arms wrapped around her waist, grabbing her tightly and lifting her in the air as she squirmed. When her feet landed on the sofa, she kicked with all her might, pushing the man out of balance. He was forced to lean on the wall behind them, and when he did, she threw her elbow back, hitting the man in the neck. With the choking sound he made, Reena rather felt pity, but when he lost his hold on her while gasping for breath, Reena took the chance to leap over the couch and run toward the door.
Her light-headedness seemed to resurface in an instant, leaving her wobbly by the doorstep. There was a sudden urge of throwing up, but Reena was too determined not to let the men inside catch her. Clutching the doorknob with all her strength, she twisted it and pulled it open. She didn't realize how stiff and thick the air was inside the room when a new whiff of fresh air filled her lungs as she made it to the hallway.
She paused, nonetheless, when she saw a man with slanted eyes, a bald head, and a weirdly-shaped mustache standing before her. He snickered, his lips twisting at the side mockingly. At his back was Asuka Kasen, looking at her apologetically. When she met her gaze, the shateigashira bowed her head down, averting from her stares.
"Brother, she's the collateral."
The grin on the man's face disappeared while he unsheathed a slim, long blade from his side, stretching his arm and pointing it toward her face. Reena looked at the shimmering tip of the perilous sword just an inch away from her. The man's hold was too steady, a warning that she could meet her immediate demise if she moved.
"Break everything inside and smear your blood on the walls," the man told the Yakuzas. He glared back at Reena, jeering with a snide grin that flashed ominously on his face. "You're coming with us..."
CLAUDE FELT THE pressure on his head, which eventually crept into his whole body. He woke up lying on the hospital bed, and a male nurse by his side checked his vital signs. His head throbbed, his left leg stung, and the two combined sent undesirable, prickling sensations all over his body. Dressed in a hospital gown, he saw his clothes at the foot of the bed, although it looked like his shirt had been cut, save for his pants that were just folded. When he attempted to move his arms, the handcuffs attached to his wrist rattled.
Looking down, he saw the patient's chart laying by his arm. Sneakily, he reached for the paper clip that held the papers together and hid it beneath his hands. He stared up at the nurse who was nonchalantly checking his IV medication.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, feeling the roughness of his throat.
The nurse glanced at him slightly and said, "Oh, you've been in here since this morning, bud. Passed out. Gotta tell the docs you're awake. Happy Liberty City Day to ya in jail."
When the nurse picked up the chart, the papers fell to the floor. Claude heard him mutter shit, and while he was about to kneel and gather the papers that went under the bed and to the corners, the nurse's phone suddenly rang.
"Well, I'm at work now. What's up?" the nurse mumbled as he pressed the phone into his ear and faced the window.
Claude took the opportunity. Turning his palm upside down, he flicked the paper clip between his fingers, straightening its wires. He wrapped his four fingers around the wire and use his thumb to push the other end into the hole, bending the clip into an L shape. Moving the clip in a circular motion while shoving it down the handcuffs' ridges, Claude finally heard the click he was aiming for. Once his right hand got freed, he proceeded to pick the other on the left.
"Are there officers outside?" he further inquired, seeing the nurse putting the phone back into his pocket.
Bending down once again, the nurse reached for the piece of paper at the bottom. "Hell yeah. At the end of the hallway, the–"
Claude pulled the nurse backward, locking an arm around his neck. He felt him tapping on his forearm as if pleading to let loose, but Claude tightened even more until his face reddened. Eventually, he stopped wriggling and fainted.
Quickly, Claude pulled out the IV and removed the gauze on his head, pushing himself up whilst his temples kept on pulsating. His left leg was shambling likewise, making it quite difficult for him to stand. He put the unconscious nurse's uniform, cap, and mask on. He grabbed the unpiled patient chart as well lest he needed to show some props when he trudged the hallway.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
As he passed by the officers at the end of the corridor, Claude kept his posture up, walking confidently while enduring the pain in his leg. He nodded at one of the cops before he turned to the hallway and escaped through the fire exit, climbing down two flights of stairs. Upon reaching the threshold on the ground floor, he swiftly pushed the two-way door and stormed out of the building, the dark sky filled with heavy clouds denoting an upcoming pour. He immediately ran across the hospital's parking lot until he reached the road. However, when he saw a Cartel Cruiser parked on the other side, which baffled him, he swiftly retracted and changed direction, walking toward the vacant lot and taking a car that was idly parked at the rear.
I promised her I'd be back soon.
If he had been in the hospital since the morning, Reena must have been already worrying about him. She might not be talking to or even looking at him, but he knew she would care if he didn't come home. Trying his best to focus on the road, his vision started to swirl again. From the rearview mirror, he could see that his head was beginning to bleed.
"Fuck, she can't see me like this!"
Instead of going straight to Newport, he steered toward Torrington aiming for the Ammu-Nation. For each traffic light he would pass, Claude would not stop or slow down. Fortunately enough, no police mobiles or officers were roaming around the district. Time made no sense at all; counting the minutes or hours that passed just added to the growing dread he felt as his vision blurred once again. After an indefinite, strenuous moment of driving with an aching and limp leg while pushing himself to keep his foot on the pedal without crashing again, Claude arrived in front of the weapons shop and accidentally collided with the post in front of it.
The screeching noise of the skidding wheels caught 8-Ball's attention, who was at that time checking the supplies of ammo displayed on the counter compartment. 8-Ball peered by the glass window, and as Claude struggled to push the door of the car open, he saw his friend drop the notebook he was holding. Claude grunted as he forced the glass door open, almost falling onto the ground.
"What the fuck happened to you?!" 8-Ball exclaimed upon catching him midway through his fall. "You're fuckin' bleeding, brother!"
Despite being big himself, 8-Ball struggled when he tried to pull Claude up. The grasp on his arms was very tough, making him draw labored breaths as he was being heaved toward the nearest wall. Weakened like shit as blood kept on flowing from his head, 8-Ball laid him on the floor and quickly shut the door close, turning off the OPEN sign. He pulled down the blinds to cover the interior of the shop.
"Whose car are you using?!"
"I took it… from the parking lot…"
"Shit, wait here…"
8-Ball left through the backdoor, leaving Claude a piece of towel to press on his bleeding head. He leaned his back on the cold wall below the weapons display, grumbling and hissing in pain as he tried to stretch his leg. His head stung as his sight continued to blur, slowly spinning until he couldn't see any light at all.
The struggle felt like forever, and through his hazy vision, he thought he caught a glimpse of the drizzles starting to shower outside. Soon, the sound of the rain became distinct, and the temperature dropped, making him feel cold. The hand that strained to press the towel on his head slowly lost its strength, ultimately falling to his side. Claude tried his best to keep his eyes open, but the more he convinced himself to stay awake, the stronger exhaustion was knocking him down.
"Brother… don't–"
He thought he heard someone so he turned his head in the direction of the noise. There was a light tapping on his face, but he really couldn't feel anything. Was he being yanked? The sounds were barely audible. There was an attempt to move, to regain control, but doom obscured his perspective, inevitably sending him into the pits of oblivion.
0-0-0-0-0
A thunderous voice yanked Claude from his sleep, causing him to flinch on a springy hammock. Eyes gaping wide, he discovered 8-Ball frowning before him and another man with a weird, blonde nest-like hairdo and a missing arm. Claude's hand found its way onto his stinging head only to feel that he had been wrapped with gauze. The legs, however, still felt like shit.
"Damn, son. What kind of friends d'you have?"
"Sorry, Phil. Can't leave him behind."
"This bloke's been asleep in my shop for a day!" the man hooted annoyingly while looking at Claude. "Just make sure he won't cause trouble." He turned around while shaking his head and left the room.
8-Ball sat on the chair beside him, giving him a bottle of water. Without a word, Claude took and opened the cap, draining it in an instant as if he had not drunk for a long time. Even after emptying the bottle, he still felt parched and dizzy. If he heard the man right, he had been passed out for a day, which meant that he had been that way since yesterday.
"You okay?"
Claude nodded and whispered, "Thanks." But he wasn't. He couldn't believe that he passed out. Reena must be so fucking worried for him.
"When you're feeling better, you gotta change your clothes, brother. We need to throw the one you're wearing."
Struggling to stretch his arms and legs, Claude pushed himself up in agony. "Where are we?" He looked around the room, and though it was poorly lit, his eyes trained on the shelves that held various ammunition and weapons. Some of them he recognized and was even able to use, but most looked new to him.
"Backroom of Ammu-Nation. Took me some time to get you here. Phil helped me."
"I gotta go–"
"No, brother. Sit down," 8-Ball commanded. Claude looked at him quite perplexed but he obliged. As he settled himself once again on the hammock, 8-Ball heaved his seat closer and whispered, "You're on the news."
"I can't stay here."
"You can't, but you gotta lay low. Wait until tonight."
Claude scowled at the thought. He badly wanted to go back to Newport, trying to convince himself that he was feeling a lot better. The accident – it must have been it. The packages of Spank he had collected from the Yardies had been taken by someone else while the car he was riding on was upside-down. His vision was blurry but he did remember what the man who took the Spank looked like. Army pants. Dreadlocks.
They weren't from the Cartel. He was sure about that. If any, they were from the other group, and more probably, Kenji had already learned about his failure. There would be more reasons for the waka-gashira to insult him… or worse.
Swallowing hard, he asked, "The keys… do you still have them?"
"Which ones?"
"Cipriani's boat… in Rockford." He glanced slightly at 8-Ball as he stretched himself and lay back on the hammock. A prickling sensation shot up from his spine toward his head, making him grunt in an instant. The core of his body ached, but ironically, it was better for him. When he was in the toppled car, he felt nothing.
"Yeah, I still have it. Want me to get it? The boat?" 8-Ball asked as he stood.
He jerked a nod. "Bring it to Newport. Me and Reena, we'll leave," he said, not wanting to divulge too much information about the plan he was thinking of. Once he got back to the condominium, they would be departing immediately. But Claude needed to give in. His body was already begging. "I just need a little more time."
"Sure thing, brother. I'll wake you up..."
Though he didn't want to, Claude closed his eyes and fell asleep, getting himself ready for the next big step he had to take…
I'm not a native English speaker, so I appreciate it if you can correct my expressions and choice of words, or suggest better ways to express things! I also highly appreciate receiving favorites and comments if you like the story! Thank you so much for reading! 3
