Page 86
Story: Arm Candy Warrior
Magnum lets my hand go.
“Show me your hands!”
A spotlight washes out Magnum’s face. When I look up, a helicopter hovers over us. Police continue to bark orders out at Magnum, and he follows their every command. He’s on the ground, stomach down, face turned toward me. Feet impede my view and then someone kneels beside me. “I’ve got an injury here,” a female voice shouts.
More people crowd me. Somewhere far away, I’m pretty sure I hear Johnny yelling and then more police yelling. “What’s going on?” I ask, my body starting to shake uncontrollably.
The woman gets in my face. “You’re my only concern. Hold still. Relax.”
They get a board and move me onto it. It’s stiff and uncomfortable. They put a brace on my neck, and I whimper as pain slices down my spine.
“I know it hurts. We’re going to get you in the ambulance, and I’ll be giving you something to take the edge off, okay?”
“Kyla!” a dark voice yells. The whooshing in my ear isn’t helping my hearing, but I think it’s Johnny. Now that the brace is on my neck, there’s no way I can look though. All I can do is stare straight up at the night sky.
“Christ,” the lady mutters as they load me into the ambulance. Lights flash off of street signs and houses. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Gang shit,” the other paramedic says.
The girl leers down at me, and that’s the last thing I remember.
34
I’m in and out of consciousness. I don’t know how long I was like that, but I’ve been fully conscious for a couple of days now, being fed pain medicine to keep the surging pain at bay. My arm’s broken, so I’m in a cast, and I haven’t been able to take my neck brace off, but the other injuries are subsiding quickly.
Detective Reynolds has been hiding out outside my room. He hasn’t come in yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I’ve asked the hospital personnel if anyone’s tried to visit me, but they won’t say. They also won’t let me use the phone or answer any of my other questions about what happened to the guy I was with. Or about the guy on the bike who’d been following us. I’m almost positive now that I heard Johnny at the scene when I was being carted away, but he hasn’t shown up yet, and that must mean one thing. He can’t. He would be here if he could. They all would.
A nurse comes in to check my vitals. Detective Reynolds is outside again. His boisterous drivel wafts into the room, making me leery. “Are they ever going to let him in?” I ask the nurse as she puts the blood pressure cuff away.
She smiles at me. “I think they’re talking about that now.” She leans over. “I have a message for you,” she whispers. Her body is taut, and I’m instantly on alert. “From Rocket.”
I relax, but she doesn’t. Someone put some real fear into her to deliver this. “What is it?” I ask, looking up at her.
“He says not to say anything, and that he’ll take care of it.”
When she returns to a standing position, she doesn’t meet my eyes.
Heavy footsteps enter the room at last. The anticipation of having to talk to the detective did worse things to me than just getting it done and over with. Of course, I wouldn’t say anything. I wondered why Johnny even bothered with the message.
The detective smiles at the young nurse as she leaves and then he leans against the wall at the foot of my bed. “We keep finding each other.”
“More like you keep finding me,” I say. “Can detectives also be stalkers?”
“If they have to be.”
“Creepy,” I mutter, shifting on the bed. I haven’t been able to find many comfortable positions to lay in. They say my neck will heal, but I might have to go through a bit of therapy. The brace I’m still wearing is just so I don’t do any further damage to it.
“You ready to talk to me now?”
“About?” I ask coyly.
He smiles back, but he’s a lot less humorous than he has been. “Who made you and Jacob Cotton crash?”
“Jacob Cotton?”
Detective Reynolds folds his arms over his chest. “You know him as Magnum, I presume.”
Huh. It’s odd to unravel another layer. “Is he okay?”
“Show me your hands!”
A spotlight washes out Magnum’s face. When I look up, a helicopter hovers over us. Police continue to bark orders out at Magnum, and he follows their every command. He’s on the ground, stomach down, face turned toward me. Feet impede my view and then someone kneels beside me. “I’ve got an injury here,” a female voice shouts.
More people crowd me. Somewhere far away, I’m pretty sure I hear Johnny yelling and then more police yelling. “What’s going on?” I ask, my body starting to shake uncontrollably.
The woman gets in my face. “You’re my only concern. Hold still. Relax.”
They get a board and move me onto it. It’s stiff and uncomfortable. They put a brace on my neck, and I whimper as pain slices down my spine.
“I know it hurts. We’re going to get you in the ambulance, and I’ll be giving you something to take the edge off, okay?”
“Kyla!” a dark voice yells. The whooshing in my ear isn’t helping my hearing, but I think it’s Johnny. Now that the brace is on my neck, there’s no way I can look though. All I can do is stare straight up at the night sky.
“Christ,” the lady mutters as they load me into the ambulance. Lights flash off of street signs and houses. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Gang shit,” the other paramedic says.
The girl leers down at me, and that’s the last thing I remember.
34
I’m in and out of consciousness. I don’t know how long I was like that, but I’ve been fully conscious for a couple of days now, being fed pain medicine to keep the surging pain at bay. My arm’s broken, so I’m in a cast, and I haven’t been able to take my neck brace off, but the other injuries are subsiding quickly.
Detective Reynolds has been hiding out outside my room. He hasn’t come in yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I’ve asked the hospital personnel if anyone’s tried to visit me, but they won’t say. They also won’t let me use the phone or answer any of my other questions about what happened to the guy I was with. Or about the guy on the bike who’d been following us. I’m almost positive now that I heard Johnny at the scene when I was being carted away, but he hasn’t shown up yet, and that must mean one thing. He can’t. He would be here if he could. They all would.
A nurse comes in to check my vitals. Detective Reynolds is outside again. His boisterous drivel wafts into the room, making me leery. “Are they ever going to let him in?” I ask the nurse as she puts the blood pressure cuff away.
She smiles at me. “I think they’re talking about that now.” She leans over. “I have a message for you,” she whispers. Her body is taut, and I’m instantly on alert. “From Rocket.”
I relax, but she doesn’t. Someone put some real fear into her to deliver this. “What is it?” I ask, looking up at her.
“He says not to say anything, and that he’ll take care of it.”
When she returns to a standing position, she doesn’t meet my eyes.
Heavy footsteps enter the room at last. The anticipation of having to talk to the detective did worse things to me than just getting it done and over with. Of course, I wouldn’t say anything. I wondered why Johnny even bothered with the message.
The detective smiles at the young nurse as she leaves and then he leans against the wall at the foot of my bed. “We keep finding each other.”
“More like you keep finding me,” I say. “Can detectives also be stalkers?”
“If they have to be.”
“Creepy,” I mutter, shifting on the bed. I haven’t been able to find many comfortable positions to lay in. They say my neck will heal, but I might have to go through a bit of therapy. The brace I’m still wearing is just so I don’t do any further damage to it.
“You ready to talk to me now?”
“About?” I ask coyly.
He smiles back, but he’s a lot less humorous than he has been. “Who made you and Jacob Cotton crash?”
“Jacob Cotton?”
Detective Reynolds folds his arms over his chest. “You know him as Magnum, I presume.”
Huh. It’s odd to unravel another layer. “Is he okay?”
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