Page 3 of Bazooka

I turned around, only to walk into a fist. When my vision cleared and the birdies stopped flying around my head, I was lying on the floor.

I was dizzy as fuck, and I could taste the blood in my mouth.

When I saw four pairs of sneakers around me, I realized that I’d fucked up.

One foot connected with my stomach. The other one made me throw up all the cake I’d eaten earlier.

The third foot hit my ribs so hard that all breath left me.

The next one hit my nose, producing a weird crunching sound.

A rain of blows descended on me from several directions at once so swiftly my brain couldn’t process it.

I curled into a fetal position, trying to shield myself with arms and legs, but all I could feel was agonizing pain.

When a foot slammed into my liver, I let out a startled cry and rolled over onto my stomach.

At that point, I couldn’t see anymore, because my eyes wouldn’t open properly.

I covered my head with my arms, trying to protect my face when another vicious kick found my ear.

I was five seconds from blacking out when I heard a snigger.

“How do you like me now, birthday boy?” The toothless asshole asked me, crouching next to me.

“I… I…” I croaked, wheezing.

When he lowered his head so he could hear me, I spat out blood and used the last of my strength to answer him.

“I detest every inch of you, you dickless coward.”

It was the wrong thing to say, but keeping my mouth shut was never my strong suit.

“Dickless, huh?” the asshole said, standing up. “We’ll see about that. Guys, I want him on his knees.”

His three goons made me move into a kneeling position, which caused so much pain I thought I would faint. Through half-closed eyes, I could see my vomit on the ground, colored with blood. I tried to inhale but my ribs hurt so much I considered stopping breathing.

“Do you have a condom?” The asshole behind me asked his pals.

His words made me gag, and I started crawling toward the bar when a sneaker slammed into my face.

“Not so fast, birthday boy. I didn’t give you a present yet.”

“Come on, Riv.” One of the goons said in a hushed voice. “Aren’t you taking it too far?”

“Just give me the fucking condom!” The asshole bellowed.

“Why are you even hard? If I didn’t know you, I would have thought you liked this turd.”

Someone pulled my pants down my hips, along with my boxers. The vicious tug made me pass out, and the last thing I could remember was cold air on my bare ass and then nothing.

When I came to, I had a gap in my memory, and I was alone. I could hear the police sirens in the distance heading in the opposite direction, so it wasn’t what saved me. Was I saved? The assholes were gone, so something must have scared them away.

I raised my head, blinking to clear my vision, because everything was blurry and distorted.

My ass didn’t hurt, so that toothless bastard probably didn’t have time to rape me before he and his goons fled.

I was still bare-assed, though, so I pulled my boxers up my hips.

The movement caused such agonizing pain that I decided my pants weren’t worth the bother.

I couldn’t move without hurting, so I gave up on that, too.

My eyelids felt weird, as if they were glued together or some shit.

I coughed and spat out more blood, feeling around for my phone, which I’d dropped earlier.

When I found it, I blindly dialed a number, not even knowing who I’d called.

A gruff voice answered after the first ring.

“What happened?”

I smiled despite the pain. I knew that voice. Smooth, sexy, and mostly uninterested in talking to me.

“It’s you,” I whispered, feeling dazed.

I didn’t know if it was destiny that I dialed Bazooka’s number, but I knew why he answered despite never returning my texts. It was because in all these months I’d never called him. Not once. I texted him dozens of times, but I never dialed his number, so he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked me. The initial silence on the other end of the line got replaced by the sounds of traffic.

His breathing quickened as if he were running, which my stupid heart interpreted as: he’s coming to save you.

I heard someone shouting at him, “Watch where you’re going, asshole! ”, and then more honking ensued.

“Luz, where the fuck are you?” Bazooka said, sounding alarmed. “Can you hear me?”

“I’m…” I croaked, trying to think. “Are you running?”

I was still fixated on that, which was so fucking dumb.

“I’m in my car,” he replied impatiently. “Tell me where to go. Where are you?”

“I’m… I’m… fuck, I can’t feel my teeth.”

“Luz, fucking think! I swear to God!” he exclaimed.

“Pe-te’s. Parking lot.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

In ten? He was in another city. How could he be here in ten?

With my mind reeling and my body numb with pain, I just lay there in the darkness. I was gazing at the moonlit sky, wondering why trouble always followed me wherever I went. Why, once in a while, I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

The next thing I knew was muscular arms wrapping around me and scooping me up. I groaned in agony when the searing pain in my ribs reminded me why I didn’t want to move to begin with. Then a scent filled my nostrils… a scent I obsessed over for months. Fucking vanilla. I would bet on it.

“What the fuck happened to you, Luz?”

The throaty growl made me smile because Bazooka sounded angry, as if everything that happened was my fault.

It kind of was, but since I was floating in vanilla heaven, I didn’t mind his brusque tone.

The powerful arms holding me were the perfect cocoon for my aching body, making me feel almost sleepy.

Only when Bazooka laid me down on the backseat of the car did I whimper in pain, coughing out more blood.

Then the car door closed, and the world around me disappeared.

Bazooka

I’d just gotten out of the shower when my phone pinged with a text.

Unknown number: You could have at least congratulated me on my birthday.

I memorized it as “pest” before heading to the kitchen and tossing the phone onto the kitchen counter.

Naked, with a semi bouncing between my legs, I crossed the room and pulled a clean T-shirt and jeans out of my duffel bag.

I was thinking about visiting the nearest fast-food joint when my phone rang.

When I saw the caller ID, the sinking feeling in my stomach made me lose my appetite.

“What happened?” I said, knowing it wasn’t good. Why? Because this caller had never called me before. He kept texting me, and I changed my number three times because of him, but he never called me.

Even before Luz answered my question, I grabbed my car keys and rushed out of the apartment.

I skipped two stairs at a time on my way down to the lobby and burst through the front door, running toward my car.

I didn’t wait for the green traffic light because something told me I didn’t have much time.

On my way to the car, I almost got run over by a truck and nearly collided with an old lady carrying her dog.

Oh, and I had to flash my badge to a traffic cop who headed my way, probably to arrest me.

Why? Because I was crossing the street like a lunatic.

When Luz finally told me where he was, I stepped on the gas, violating most, if not all, traffic laws.

I arrived there in record time and, thanks to a considerable amount of luck, in one piece.

I spotted him as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, and the sight of him lying limp on the ground made me sick to my stomach.

What did that little fool get himself into now?

I got out of the car and ran up to him, scanning his injuries. He was severely beaten up, and his pants were pulled down to his knees, which was more bad news. Instead of calling the ambulance, I decided to drive him straight to the hospital.

I scooped him up in my arms as gently as possible, quickly surveying the scene. I could see vomit, blood, and a used condom lying on the ground next to a beer can. A little further away, I spotted a pool of piss and wet footsteps leading toward the park.

“What the fuck happened to you, Luz?” I growled, carrying him to my car, and it made him smile for some reason. When his eyes closed, I told myself to hurry the fuck up because he seemed unconscious, and I didn’t like it.

I was speeding down the crowded avenue when he came to. I could see him in the rearview mirror, raising his head and looking around as if he didn’t know where he was.

“It seems I got myself into a bit of trouble, kochanie ,” he said, sounding hoarse.

“Just lie there and don’t move,” I instructed him. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Panic flashed through his eyes from what I could see through his swollen eyelids.

“No hospital.”

I turned left at the intersection. I didn’t know the town well, but I knew where the hospital was because I’d visited it once before.

“No hospital,” Luz growled, straightening up with a groan of pain.

I looked at him in disbelief because… couldn’t he see himself in the mirror?

“Are you insane? Someone beat you to a pulp, Luz. You could have internal bleeding.”

“I mean it,” Luz said, wheezing. “Stop the car.”

I ignored him, but he reached for the handle and opened the car door. When I heard the cars whooshing past us and realized the lunatic was ready to jump, I slammed on the brakes.

“Okay!” I exclaimed in alarm. “Close the damn door. Fuck! Did you commit a crime, or what? Is that why you won’t go to the hospital?”

Luz closed the door, sniffling. “No. I’ll… I’ll be fine, okay? I just need to rest, that’s all.”