Chapter 22

Bystanders immediately ran screaming while a couple of others ran over from afar having seen Jalen get hit. The suspect fled before firing another shot. Jalen, barely conscious and bleeding profusely, struggled to pull out his phone but managed to do so and dialed a contact: Chrysti Oliviera.

Chrysti answered after a couple of rings.

“Hey.” She says softly.

There’s no response at first.

Then she hears on the line a strained voice that says, “I’m sorry...” and then a rattling sound as if the phone had been dropped on the ground.

Then nothing. The only noise Chrysti could hear was that of people yelling and screaming in the background. Chrysti immediately straightened up and began to panic.

“Jalen? Jalen?! JALEN!!”

Chrysti’s heart stopped.

“JALEN?! What the fuck—Jalen?!” she screamed into the phone, but there was nothing. Just the faint, hollow sound of the line still being connected, but no voice responding.

Her hands shook so violently she almost dropped the phone. She scrambled out of bed, heart hammering in her chest as adrenaline surged through her veins. She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her keys, still in her yoga pants and tank top, and ran to her car. Something was wrong, and she didn’t care what time it was, didn’t care about anything except finding him. As she threw herself into the driver’s seat, she realized she had no idea where to go. Jalen hadn’t said where he was or what had happened, but she had heard the pain in his voice, the weakness, the fading.

She forced herself to take a breath. “Think, Chrysti. THINK.”

Jalen had told her earlier that day when they texted that he was going out, but he never mentioned where. Was he home? No, that didn’t make sense. If he was home, why would he be calling her instead of one of the others?

“He called me.” She thought.

Her blood ran cold. That meant whatever happened ... he didn’t want the others to know just yet.

“Come on, Jalen,” she muttered, dialing his number again as she peeled out of the parking lot. It rang. And rang. And rang.

Then it went to voicemail. Chrysti cursed and slammed the steering wheel, feeling tears sting her eyes.

“No. No, no, no, no.”

She had to find him. She had to save him. She tried again, and it answered! Only this time, an unfamiliar voice picked up.

“Hello! Listen! I don’t know who this guy is but he’s been shot! I’ve already called the 9-1-1!

“WHERE?!!” Chrysti screamed into the phone.

“He’s in the parking lot outside the St. Regis Bar!” the voice on the other end shouted. “I just saw it happen. He got shot and the guy ran! The ambulance is on the way. He’s still breathing but he’s fading fast!”

Chrysti’s vision blurred with panic as she gripped the steering wheel.

“I’m on my way! Stay with him! Don’t let him be alone!” she ordered before hanging up and flooring the gas.

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. Every second felt like an eternity. The thought of Jalen bleeding out alone in some damn parking lot was unbearable. She wove through traffic like a madwoman, ignoring red lights, ignoring everything except the growing terror in her chest. The moment she skidded into the parking lot, she saw the flashing red and blue lights of the ambulance that had arrived just ahead of her.

And there, on the pavement, surrounded by paramedics, was Jalen. His shirt was soaked in blood. His face was pale. He was barely conscious.

“JALEN!” Chrysti screamed, shoving past a bystander to get to him.

One of the paramedics tried to hold her back, but she fought them off.

“Let me through! That’s my—” She choked on the words.

What was he? Her boyfriend? Her lover? The father of her unborn child? The man she was absolutely in love with? Jalen’s eyelids fluttered weakly, and for one terrifying moment, she thought she was too late.

Then, barely above a whisper, he breathed out, “Chrysti...”

And everything in her shattered.

The paramedics allowed Chrysti to ride with Jalen in the ambulance since they realized she was someone important to him. Jalen was no longer conscious. Chrysti gripped Jalen’s hand tightly as the ambulance sped toward the hospital, sirens wailing in the night.

“Stay with me, Jalen,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “You have to stay with me.”

Jalen didn’t respond. His breathing was shallow, his face unnervingly still. One of the paramedics was working quickly, checking his vitals and pressing gauze against the bullet wound in his abdomen to slow the bleeding.

“Is he gonna be okay?!” Chrysti demanded, her voice sharp with fear.

“We’re doing everything we can,” the paramedic said calmly. “But we need to get him into surgery now.”

Chrysti squeezed his hand harder.

“Jalen, you do not get to leave me like this, do you hear me? You don’t get to—” her voice cracked, and her grip trembled.

The paramedic gave her a sympathetic glance. “Are you his wife?”

Chrysti hesitated. “No ... but he’s—he’s the father of my child.”

The words came out before she even realized what she was saying.

The paramedic’s expression softened. “Then I’d start praying. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

The rest of the ride was a blur. When they arrived at the hospital, the EMTs rushed Jalen out of the ambulance and through the emergency doors. Chrysti ran after them, her entire world narrowing to the sight of his body being wheeled away. A nurse stopped her before she could follow them into the operating room.

“You need to stay here,” the nurse said gently. “We’ll update you when we can.”

Chrysti stood frozen in place; her entire body numb. Then, slowly, her legs gave out. She collapsed into one of the waiting room chairs, burying her face in her hands as silent tears streamed down her face. She had never prayed in her life, but right now, she desperately needed something, anything, to hold onto.

After several minutes on the floor, Chrysti had a realization, teary faced and all. The other women in Jalen’s life needed to know what happened. The problem was, she didn’t know how to reach any of them. She could barely remember their names.

As she wracked her brain, she deduced that if she could just remember one of their names and contact that person through Facebook messenger or Instagram DMs, then that woman could probably alert the rest. Chrysti continued to try hard to remember a name.

“I know there was one girl ... Heidi ... Heidi something ... damnit what was her last name?!” She yelled aloud frustrated.

Chrysti squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her brain to remember.

Heidi ... Heidi...

The last name refused to come to her, but it didn’t matter. Jalen had mentioned before that Heidi was in law school. Maybe she could find her that way. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, quickly opening Instagram. She typed “Heidi law school Atlanta” into the search bar, hoping something familiar would pop up. A list of profiles appeared. Most were private, faceless accounts. But then...

Heidi Horner.

That had to be her. Chrysti clicked the profile. The picture was of a stunning redhead in a sleek business outfit. She wasn’t smiling, but her confidence radiated through the screen. Bingo. Chrysti didn’t even hesitate. She hit Message and started typing frantically.

“Hey. You don’t know me, but my name is Chrysti. I’m a friend of Jalen’s. He was just shot. He’s at the hospital right now. Please call me as soon as you see this.”

She hit send and stared at the screen, heart pounding.

Please see it. Please see it.

Elsewhere, about twenty minutes later, Heidi had just climbed into bed when she opened her Instagram to do her pre-bedtime scroll. She scrolled through pictures for a while then she decided to check her DM’s. She noticed there was one unread DM from the hidden section meaning it was from someone who she wasn’t following. She didn’t usually get those so she opened it to see who it could be. She opened it and saw it was from someone she’d never heard of before.

“Chrysti Oliviera?” Heidi thought.

She opened the DM and read the message...

“OH MY GOD!!!” she literally screamed out loud after reading what Chrysti had sent her.

Heidi’s heart slammed against her ribs as she re-read the message. Jalen was shot. Jalen was in the hospital. Her hands shook as she scrambled to hit the call button. It rang twice before Chrysti picked up.

“Heidi?” Chrysti’s voice was frantic, laced with exhaustion and panic.

“What the hell happened?!” Heidi demanded, already reaching for her sweatpants and sneakers.

“I—I don’t know all the details,” Chrysti stammered, her breath uneven. “He called me, but he barely said anything before ... before he went silent. A bystander picked up his phone and told me he’d already called 9-1-1.”

“Where is he now?” Heidi asked, her voice sharp, but her throat felt tight.

This couldn’t be happening.

“He’s at Grady Memorial. I rode in the ambulance with him, but he was unconscious.”

Heidi’s knees nearly buckled.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

She ended the call and immediately opened her group chat with Sydney, Megan, Kristen, Rachel, and Karla.

“Heidi: EMERGENCY. JALEN’S BEEN SHOT. THIS IS NOT A JOKE. HE’S AT GRADY MEMORIAL. GET THERE NOW.”

She didn’t even wait for responses before grabbing her keys and bolting out of her apartment.

Heidi practically ran through the hospital entrance, her sneakers squeaking against the tile floor. Her breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling in panic as she rushed toward the front desk.

“Jalen Moss. I need to see Jalen Moss! He was brought in! He was shot—” she blurted out, gripping the counter.

The nurse behind the desk nodded quickly, flipping through a chart. “He was admitted a little over an hour ago. He’s in surgery right now.”

Heidi’s stomach dropped.

“Surgery?” she whispered, her fingers tightening into fists.

A hand suddenly touched her shoulder. She turned around fast..., and there was Chrysti Oliviera. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face pale, and her body tense like she had been locked in a silent war with her own emotions for the past hour. Heidi barely knew her, but it didn’t matter. Heidi threw her arms around her. Chrysti didn’t hesitate to hold onto Heidi just as tightly. The weight of the situation hit them both at once. Jalen, the man they both loved, was fighting for his life right now.

They pulled apart just as Sydney, Megan, Kristen, Rachel, and Karla came barreling in together.

“Where is he?!” Sydney nearly yelled; eyes wild with fear.

“He’s in surgery,” Chrysti answered, her voice hoarse from crying.

The air around them grew thick with tension and raw emotion.

Silence.

No one spoke for a long, painful moment. Then Rachel collapsed into a chair, hands shaking. Megan paced back and forth; her jaw clenched. Sydney stood frozen, her lips slightly parted, like she couldn’t process what was happening.

Kristen was holding onto Karla, and Karla was clutching her stomach, a protective instinct now that she was carrying Jalen’s child.

The reality of what had happened sank in: Jalen had been shot. Someone tried to take him away from them.

“Who the hell did this?” Kristen suddenly snapped, her usual calm demeanor cracking. “Who would ... who would do something like this?!”

Chrysti swallowed hard.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know who or why ... but I was the one he called right after it happened.”

Everyone looked at her. Chrysti hesitated, her voice fragile.

“He called me ... but all I heard was his voice saying... ‘I’m sorry.’”

Rachel covered her mouth, her body trembling. Sydney wiped at her tears angrily, her jaw clenching.

Megan exhaled sharply. “That doesn’t make sense. Jalen wouldn’t just walk into trouble.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Karla murmured. “This was targeted.”

Heidi’s mind was racing, trying to piece things together. Jalen had been careful. The only people who might want to hurt him were Chris Westward or ... her father. The thought made Heidi’s blood run cold.

Sydney’s fists were clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

“If this was Chris, I swear to God—”

“We don’t know yet,” Karla cut in, trying to stay level-headed, but her voice was shaking just as much as everyone else’s.

Another silence fell, and then, suddenly, the doors at the end of the hallway burst open. A doctor stepped through, removing blood-stained gloves.

All seven women snapped their heads toward him. He reached them and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Jalen is out of surgery. He’s lost a lot of blood, but we were able to remove the bullet and stabilize him. He’s going to make it.”

There was a collective sigh and exhale among the seven women. Karla and Megan hugged each other. Rachel shed tears of sheer relief, with Heidi rubbing her back. Kristen and Sydney held each other’s arms, and Chrysti just held herself tightly.

“Thank you so much.” Karla said to the doctor.

“You can’t see him just yet, but we’ll let you know when you can.” The doctor said. Then he walked away.

After several minutes of processing the news, a new burning question rose to the forefront of the group.

“So, who exactly are you?” Rachel asks turning to Chrysti.

The other women all turned to look at Chrysti too.

Chrysti hesitated. She opened her mouth to speak, but then Sydney suddenly interjected.

“Wait ... you’re Chrysti, aren’t you?” Sydney says.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed slightly. Karla and Megan exchanged a look. Heidi remained still, her gaze unreadable. Kristen just folded her arms, studying her.

Chrysti swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed. She hadn’t planned on meeting them like this. She hadn’t even been sure if she wanted to meet them at all.

“Yeah,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m Chrysti.”

“I’m sorry, but are we supposed to know you?” Megan asked.

“She’s another one.” Sydney said to Rachel, Megan, Kristen, Karla, and Heidi. “Like us.”

Sydney then turned back to Chrysti. “Jalen told me about you when he met me for lunch earlier today.”

Rachel blinked slowly, exhaling through her nose. “Okay ... so how long have you been in his life?”

Chrysti shifted uncomfortably. “A while ... but I—”

“She’s pregnant,” Sydney cut in.

Silence.

The weight of those words hit the group like a thunderclap. Kristen’s eyebrows shot up. Karla let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Rachel closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them, as if she was processing. Megan sat down and just stared at the floor. Finally, Heidi gave Chrysti a look that made her feel like she was being scanned.

Chrysti didn’t know what to say.

“I ... I didn’t plan for this,” she admitted, her voice tight. “I didn’t even think I’d ever really be a part of ... whatever this is. I was going to leave. I was going to walk away.”

“And yet here you are,” Rachel muttered.

Chrysti tensed.

“I didn’t come here to take anything away from you,” she shot back. “I came here because Jalen called me after getting shot and I was the only one who knew. I came here because I—”

She stopped herself.

‘Because I love him.’

That’s what she wanted to say. She felt it. She knew it but saying it in front of all of them felt ... impossible.

Sydney, sensing the tension, placed a hand on Rachel’s arm.

“We can talk about this later,” she said gently. “Right now, all that matters is that Jalen is okay.”

Rachel clenched her jaw but nodded. Karla finally spoke.

“We should all take a breath,” she said. “No one expected this, but this isn’t the time to fall apart. Jalen is alive. We should be grateful for that.”

Everyone nodded slowly. Chrysti exhaled, finally releasing some of the tension in her body. She was still on edge, but at least ... for now ... things weren’t going to explode. Then Sydney turned back to Chrysti.

“You should know,” she said, “that being in Jalen’s life ... means being in ours too. If you’re really staying, we’re all going to have to figure this out together.”

Chrysti hesitated ... then nodded.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I know.”

And for the first time, it felt real. She wasn’t walking away. She wasn’t leaving. Like it or not ... she was in this.

Sydney spotted Jalen’s mother Deborah and Jalen’s brother, Jamal as they walked through the hospital doors. She immediately stood up from her seat in the waiting area, waving them over.

“Deborah! Over here!” she called out.

Deborah rushed forward, her face a mixture of fear and urgency. Jalen’s brother was right behind her, his jaw clenched, eyes scanning the room like he was already ready to fight someone.

“Where is he?! What happened?!” Deborah demanded the moment she reached Sydney.

Sydney gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’s stable, Deborah. He’s alive.”

Deborah visibly exhaled, but her eyes were still filled with worry. “I got the call, but no one told me much. Who the hell did this to my son?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Sydney said.

Jalen’s brother finally spoke, his voice tight with emotion. “What do you mean, ‘trying to figure out’? Y’all don’t know who shot him?”

Rachel chimed in from nearby, arms crossed. “Not yet, but whoever did it ... trust me, they won’t get away with it.”

Deborah’s gaze shifted, finally taking in the group of women standing nearby: Sydney, Rachel, Heidi, Karla, and even Chrysti, who was still lingering near the back.

Her eyes narrowed. “I recognize Sydney, and I think I remember you, Rachel, right?”

Rachel nodded.

Deborah continued, glancing at Heidi and Karla. “And you two?”

Before they could answer, her eyes landed on Chrysti, and something about Chrysti’s body language made Deborah’s expression tighten even further.

“Who are you?” Deborah asked, her voice sharp.

Chrysti shifted uncomfortably, looking to Sydney for support.

Sydney hesitated for a split second before saying, “Deborah, this is Chrysti. She’s ... she’s one of us.”

It took only a moment for Deborah to piece things together. Her eyes widened slightly before they darkened with understanding. “One of y’all? So, you’re telling me my son got another one?”

Chrysti flinched at the tone in Deborah’s voice.

Deborah closed her eyes and exhaled sharply before shaking her head. “I don’t even know what to say right now.”

Jalen’s brother, meanwhile, was pacing. His fists clenched and unclenched, his breathing uneven. “I swear, if I find out who did this—”

“Stop,” Deborah said, cutting him off. She looked exhausted. “The last thing I need is two of my sons getting hurt over this. We’ll figure out who did it, but right now, we need to be here for Jalen.”

She turned back to Sydney, her voice softer now. “When can we see him?”

Sydney glanced toward the hallway leading to Jalen’s room. “The doctor said we have to wait, but it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the quiet hum of the hospital. The weight of the situation was fully sinking in.

Then, Deborah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking up at all of them again. “Look, I don’t know all of you, and I definitely don’t understand this whole situation y’all got going on with my son, but right now, none of that matters. What matters is that Jalen is alive, and when he wakes up, I need him to know he’s got people fighting for him. You hear me?”

All seven women nodded in silent agreement.

Jamal muttered, “Damn right.”

And with that, they waited.

About ninety minutes later, one of the nurses came out.

“He’s awake.” She said smiling.

Her words were a wave of relief to everyone in the waiting area.

Sydney let out a deep breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Heidi wiped her eyes, trying not to let any more tears fall. Rachel squeezed Megan’s hand, and Kristen shut her eyes, sending a silent thanks to whatever higher power was out there. Karla exhaled sharply, as if finally releasing the weight pressing against her chest. Chrysti just sat still, staring at the floor, lost in her own thoughts.

The nurse, a woman appearing in her mid-thirties, with a calm but firm demeanor, looked at all of them. “He’s conscious, but he’s still weak. He needs time to fully stabilize. That being said, he’s asking for you.”

Before anyone could move, she lifted a hand. “I think it would be best if his mother and brother see him first before the rest of you.”

There was a brief silence, but no one objected. It was only right. Deborah had carried Jalen in her womb. She should be the first to see him awake, and Jamal, despite their complicated relationship, was his only brother.

Deborah nodded, already moving toward the door the doctor indicated. Jamal followed after her, glancing back at the seven women and the weight of their presence. He had no idea how Jalen was managing all of this.

Jalen laid in the hospital bed, propped up slightly. His skin was a little pale, his eyes tired, but he was awake. The second he saw his mother, the exhaustion in his face softened into something warm.

Deborah walked straight to his bedside, cupping his face in her hands. “Baby...”

Jalen smiled weakly. “Hey, Ma...”

She let out a shaky breath, pressing her forehead to his. “You scared me half to death, Jalen. What the hell were you thinking? Who did this to you?”

Jalen sighed. “I don’t know yet. I just ... I didn’t see them coming.”

Jamal, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed, scoffed. “Man, you got seven women worried sick about you. Who the hell do you owe money to?”

Jalen chuckled softly, then winced. “I don’t owe nobody money, man.”

Jamal shook his head. “Then who wanted you dead?”

Jalen didn’t answer immediately. He had suspicions, but he wasn’t about to go throwing accusations around yet. Chris Westward? Tim Horner? Someone else entirely?

Deborah took his hand, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “Jalen, baby, you have to be careful. Whatever this is ... whoever this is ... we’re not just gonna sit back and wait for them to try again.”

Jalen nodded. “I know, Ma.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, Deborah gave him a knowing look. “You got a whole damn harem out there waiting to see you.”

Jalen chuckled, smirking just slightly. “Yeah. I figured.”

Jamal shook his head. “Bruh, I don’t know how you’re juggling all that. I can barely handle one woman.”

Jalen turned his head toward his brother, smirking weakly. “That’s ‘cause you keep picking the wrong ones.”

Jamal rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man.”

Deborah leaned down and kissed Jalen’s forehead, lingering there for a moment. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Ma.”

After about thirty minutes, the door to Jalen’s room opened, and Deborah and Jamal stepped out. All seven women stood up immediately.

Deborah smiled. “He’s awake. He’s okay.”

A wave of relief passed through them.

Rachel let out a breath. Kristen squeezed Heidi’s hand. Megan wiped her eyes. Sydney placed a hand over her belly, as if soothing herself and the child inside her. Karla’s posture finally relaxed, and Chrysti just stood there, silent, hands clenched into fists.