On The Run

Angelo held my hand as he drove, almost running several red lights. I felt too numb to cry.
The car’s tires skidded as he parked it, jumping out. I slammed my door behind me and followed him to the front of the bar. The signs were off and it was empty, but my car was in the parking lot. Frank was inside. Angelo tried the handle and, to my surprise, the door opened. I slipped inside and called out quietly, getting no response. The bar looked abandoned, a huge contrast to the first time I'd been, when it had been completely packed.

I looked around and spotted the stairs, hurrying up them.
“Frankie? Baby?”
This time, I heard a whimper, almost too quiet to notice. I pushed open the door - my door, the door to the room I’d stayed in - and gasped.

Frank was sprawled on the floor, his leg twisted in an impossible angle. He was halfway unconscious, clutching a small bundle wrapped in a bloodstained blanket. Angelo held me back and pushed past me, shutting the door in my face. The lock clicked and I started to sob at last, trembling.

A few minutes later, Angelo opened the door and hugged me tightly. “Come on. Frankie needs to go to the hospital. I have Ryan, go get Frankie.”
I nodded and took a deep breath, diving into the room. Frank looked at me, devastation clouding his hazel eyes. I knelt down and grabbed at his hand.

“Ryan's dead,” he croaked, a few more tears trickling down his already stained cheeks. My body froze through, starting in my heart and spreading out to my fingertips and my toes. I was full of ice, cold, hard, and impenetrable. I gathered Frank up in my arms, ignoring his cries of pain, and slowly carried him down the stairs.

Notes

This was hard to write...
This is also the last chapter in Part One.