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Dr. Daddy's Virgin - A Standalone Novel (A Single Dad Romance) by Claire Adams (183)


Chapter Sixteen

Everett

 

We reached the hospital where Kendrick was around 20 minutes after leaving the school.

"I sure hope this kid is still awake," I said to Ben.

He nodded grimly.

"I know. If he's already gone into surgery, we'll have to wait at least 24 hours before we can talk to him."

"Well let's hope he's still conscious then. Come on, let's go."

We jogged up the steps and headed straight to the front desk to talk to the nurse who was on duty.

"Hello, gentlemen, would I be able to help you with something?"

"We're here to see Kendrick Green, a high school student who was brought in earlier with a gunshot wound."

"Kendrick Green, alright, let me just check for you..."

She typed his name into her computer and peered at the screen for a few moments, furrowing her brow with concentration.

"I'm afraid you can't see Kendrick right now. He's going to be going into surgery in an hour."

"Has he been sedated yet?"

"Not yet, no, but he's in a serious—"

"Look, this is a matter of life and death, and more lives might be at stake if we don't see him now. It'll take two minutes. I'm the principal of his high school, my name is Everett James, and this is the deputy principal, Ben Henderson. Please, please could you just bend the rules for us. Like I said, many more kids' lives are at stake here."

She breathed in deeply.

"I uh, I don't usually break the rules, but if there are lives at stake, especially children's, then I think I can look past a few regulations here and there. He's in room 35C, third floor. If you hurry, you can get to him before they start prepping him for surgery."

"Thank you so much!" I said, my gratitude genuine and obvious.

"No problem. I hope you can find out whatever it is that you need to find out!"

"Come on, Ben, let's hustle!"

We ran across the entrance lobby, skipping the elevators and heading straight for the stairs. We dashed up the three flights of stairs. Ben was pretty out of breath by the time we got to the top, but I still had plenty of steam left, even though my shoulder, with the gunshot wound, was aching a little. I didn't bother to wait for Ben; there was no time. Instead, I sprinted down the hallway, looking for room 35C.

I found it right near the end, and there, lying on a bed, with all sorts of tubes hooked up to his body, was a tall, skinny high school kid. He was still conscious, but he looked very woozy. I guess they had pumped him full of painkillers. Not bothering to wait for Ben, I charged into the room.

"Kendrick Green! Are you Kendrick Green?" I asked eagerly.

He turned his head slowly to the side and looked at me with a half-confused expression on his face.

"I... yeah... I'm Kendrick Green. Who... who are... you?"

"I'm Everett James, your new principal at JFK High."

"Oh, yeah, man... that's where... I saw you... before..."

"Listen, Kendrick, I heard about what happened. And I want to say thank you. Thank you for doing your best to fight these drug-dealing scumbags who are ruining these kids' lives in our neighborhoods and our schools. You're a true hero, Kendrick, a true hero – and I'll see to it that you're properly honored and rewarded for your heroism. Right now, though, before you go into surgery, we just need you to ID the kids who were buying the Rocket. Can you do that for us? Ben – Mr. Henderson, the deputy principal, he's bringing a yearbook to show you pictures so that you can show us exactly who it was who was buying the drugs. Can you do that?

"Yeah... I... can..."

Ben came stumbling into the room, huffing and puffing with his face bright red from exertion.

"He's still conscious?" he asked.

"I... am... Mr. Henderson," replied Kendrick, recognizing Ben.

"You're a good kid, Kendrick, a real good kid. And you did an amazing thing today. And we're very, very sorry that this happened to you. But can you help us, just with this one thing?"

"I can... I... can..."

Just then, however, a doctor burst into the room.

"Hey!" he shouted. "What the heck is going on here?! You're not supposed to be in here! No visitors in this ward at all! Get out, immediately! That patient is in critical condition! Get out now!"

"Just hold your horses, we need to ask him a question or two," I replied. "Then we'll leave."

"No, you'll leave right now."

"Ben, bring the book over here and show Kendrick the pictures."

Ben hurried over to the side of the bed, opening the yearbook to the pages we needed to show Kendrick.

"I'm calling security," muttered the doctor as he stormed off.

"We'd better hurry, Ben. Looks like we've got about thirty seconds for Kendrick to ID those kids before we're forcibly removed from here."

"Alright, Kendrick," Ben said as he showed Kendrick the pictures. "Can you identify the kids who were buying the drugs? I know there are several classes of kids to look through, but just look and see if you can recognize them."

Kendrick started peering at the faces, and that was when I heard the heavy tramping of footsteps running down the hallway.

"They're in 35C!" I heard the doctor shout. "Get them out by whatever means necessary!"

I headed to the door, determined to hold off the security guards for as long as it took Kendrick to identify the kids.

I popped my head out the door and saw three burly security guards armed with Tasers and batons charging our way.

"You!" one of them shouted, pointing a thick finger at me. "Get out of here now, before we're compelled to use force to remove you!"

"Hurry, Kendrick, hurry," I muttered under my breath as I closed the door and braced my body against it.

"Come on, Kendrick, do you see the kids who were buying the drugs? Do you see them in there?"

"Not... yet... still... looking..."

At that moment, the security guards reached the door.

"Open the door, sir, open it right now!" shouted the lead one as he gripped the door handle.

"We're not done yet!" I yelled back at him.

"That's it, you've had your warning. We’ve called the police and you will be forced from these premises!"

I braced myself for impact as he put his shoulder down and rammed the door. I managed to hold it closed, but this guy was pretty strong, and I wasn't sure how long I could hold him back for.

"Have you found them, Kendrick?" I asked.

The security guard rammed the door again, and this time he did it with such force that I was forced back. Still, I recovered and got my shoulder up against the door as he charged again. This time the door opened a crack, and I was only just able to force it shut before one of them tried to wedge their batons in the gap.

"That's it, Jeff, help me out here!" the security guard shouted to his friend.

Together, they lined themselves up outside the door, preparing to ram it in unison. There was no way I could hold it against both of them simultaneously, but I had to try. I dug my heels into the ground and forced all my weight against the door as I heard them counting down.

"Three, two, one, hit it!"

Their combined mass slammed into the door. As strong as I was, I couldn't hold it. I was thrown back and fell hard on the floor, and the door burst open as the security guards charged into the room. But right at that moment, Kendrick's eyes lit up.

"Those two," he said, tapping his finger on the faces of two boys in the yearbook. "It was …those two."

The security guards grabbed Ben and me and started hauling us roughly out.

"Thank you, Kendrick!" I shouted over my shoulder as the guards manhandled me out of the room and frog-marched us down the hallway.

"Alright, you jerks, you can let us go now; we're leaving," said Ben.

"We'll let you idiots go when you're off hospital premises," said the head security guard defiantly.

They forced us into the elevator and held us pinned against the elevator walls as we went downstairs. These guys obviously only had minimal training, and I could easily have broken out of the hold and taken them down, but obviously, I didn't want to unnecessarily escalate the situation. It was better to just play along and cooperate. We had the information we had come for.

As the elevator reached the ground floor, they marched us roughly out to the main entrance, and then when we got to the doors, they shoved us out and stood in the doorway, blocking it.

"I don't wanna see you two clowns back here again," snarled the lead guard. "And if you are dumb enough to come back, we're calling the cops."

"Don't worry, man, we're good; we won't be back," I said. "Come on, Ben, let's go."

We turned around, dusted ourselves off and then walked briskly back to the car. Once we got to it, I turned to Ben.

"Alright, so who are the kids Kendrick identified?"

"They're 11th graders. One is William Stevens; the other is Leon Brownell. Both are troublemakers; they've been spending most Saturdays in detention ever since they started at JFK High."

"Real high-quality students," I remarked sarcastically.

"Yeah. Well, at least we have their names now. Means we can look up their contact info. We have to head straight to their houses and speak to them and their parents."

"Do you think they'll even be there?" I asked. "They know Kendrick got shot, and they must know that this is serious business. If they have even an ounce of sense, they will have gone into hiding."

He nodded. "They probably have, but we have to try. Their parents might be able to tell us where they may have gone. They should at least be able to give us some details of these boys' friends and acquaintances, anyone who might be able to point us in the right direction to finding out about their whereabouts."

"Well, what are we waiting for?”

"Brownell and Stevens, here we go," said Ben as he pulled up their records. "You got a pen there, Ev? Write down these phone numbers and addresses."

He told me the phone numbers and addresses, and I scribbled them down on a piece of scrap paper.

"Great. That's it, that's what we need," I said. "Now what do you think, should we call their parents now, or just skip that and head straight on over to their houses and chat to them in person?"

Ben thought about this for a few moments. "I think let's skip the phone calls. This matter is too serious to chat about over the phone. We need to talk to these boys' parents in person."

"I agree. Well, who first? I don't know this town too well yet, so you'll have to drive."

"No problem." He glanced over the addresses. "William Stevens lives closer to the school than Leon Brownell does, so I guess let's head over to his place first. I can only hope that his parents are there, and that they're cooperative. Sometimes the parents of these problem students are as bad as the kids themselves."

"Believe me, I know all about that," I remarked.

We headed out to the car and climbed in.

"Alright, William Stevens, you little punk, we're coming for you," I muttered.

"Damn right," added Ben. “Look, I just have to say at this stage, thank you, Everett. Seriously. Before you came along, no other teacher here had the, uh, excuse me for saying so, but the balls to do this. You're helping me immensely. I'm glad you're here, helping to turn things around at this school."

"No problem, Ben. I'm glad you're so committed to stamping out the scourge of this drug problem. Really, I am."

"Well enough of this; we've got work to do. Come on!"

Ben was about to start the car when my phone rang. I took it out and saw that it was Vivienne calling.

"Uh hold on Ben, I just have to take this. It might be about my daughter. She's sick."

"Hello?" I said, answering the call.

"Hi, Everett," the voice trembled through the line.

I could hear immediately that something was wrong – something was seriously wrong. I couldn't help thinking that maybe Jane's condition had worsened, and my heart started beating faster. Little rushes of cold fear started trickling up my spine.

"What's wrong, Vivienne? Is it Jane? Is she alright?" I stammered.

"Jane's alright; she's fine."

"Then what's going on here?"

"I... Someone broke into my daycare last night."

I certainly hadn't been expecting to hear that. My heart rate slowed back to normal, and the panic evaporated from my system.

"Well that's weird," I remarked. "Who would break into a daycare? Did they steal anything valuable?"

"No, nothing was stolen. It's worse than that."

"How so?"

"I know who did it."

"You do?"

It sounded now like she was crying.

"It's... it's my psycho ex, Simon. He's found me. He's found me, and he's coming for me..."

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