I’ve been in love with my best friend for almost ten years. Problem is, he’s married to someone else. Even worse, I can’t help but admire the fuck out of his husband. Because, he drags me to places like this on the worst day of my life, making me forget about said life for a few hours.
The music in the club tonight is fitting for my mood. It’s loud, wild, and I don’t give a shit how skanky I look grinding against my boyfriend, Josh. I’m practically dry humping him to the beat of the music and sporting a buzz, and a hard-on, that’s probably a shot away from declaring me officially drunk. One way or another, my boyfriend is going to make my shitty day disappear in just a few short hours.
I love being a doctor; my patients are the best. But three times today, new patients walked out on me because I didn’t look old enough. It’s the Doogie Howser effect. Add to the fact that the flu is going around and I was ready to call it a day hours ago.
What I wanted was a quiet night in, just Josh and I being lazy and trying to forget what today is. But Brad dragged me out and now I’m thankful because this is how I really need to get rid of the excess emotions I’ve been carrying around all day.
To my parents, I was their everything. They had me later in life, in their mid-forties, and I was spoiled rotten. I was also their little genius. I was called a freak when I started high school at eleven. College at fourteen made me a certifiable loner. My peers were five, six, seven years older than me. The day I graduated from medical school, at twenty-two, I lost my parents.
Unbeknownst to me, dad had a heart attack on the drive over to the ceremony, crashing their car into a cement wall and killing him and mom. I walked across that stage proud, the fake scroll in my hand, trying to spot my parents in a crowd of hundreds.
Ten long years later and this day still haunts me. I continually blame myself for begging my parents to make the drive when I knew mom wasn’t feeling well. I’m thankful my friends know how to get me out of my funk. More than ever, I’m glad I decided to become a naval doctor because if it weren’t for joining the SEALs with Logan and Brad, I’d never survive the day.
“You need anything to drink, babe?” I shout into Josh’s ear and he nods, giving me that perfect straight-toothed, model-like smile he’s known for.
“Just a water for now. Have to keep hydrated if I’m going to keep up with you later on.” I give him a wink and head to the bar, leaving him alone to make the dance floor his bitch.
Right away I spot the extra security around the place. I breathe a little easier knowing that there’s more protection as I get our drinks ordered.
“There you are! I was wondering where you’d run off to.” I look over and see Suzie. “You promised me a dance and I’ve come to collect.”
“Let me get Josh his drink and I’m all yours!”
I’m handed two shots of tequila and a bottle of water. I toss the shots back and put the empty glasses on the bar. The topless man behind it blows me a kiss and I turn away, smiling.
I grab Suzie’s hand and we make our way to the dance floor, dancing through a few songs between her, Josh, and me until he goes to sit down.
“You okay, Cam? You seem out of it.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just not my favorite of days.”
“Come on; this song is a beast and a cure to all of life’s problems. Though, one more dance and I think I need to sit down, too.”
We lose ourselves in the heavy beat of the dance music and when it’s over, Suz heads to her brother and Josh while I make my way to the restroom.
Surprisingly, it’s empty and even more so, quiet. As the doors shut, I’m thankful for the nearly soundproof room as I take a seat on the metal bench that sits along the wall to the right of the door. Only one other person comes and goes and it’s nearly fifteen minutes later, after catching my breath and gathering my wits, that I realize so much time has gone by.
I look in the mirror and my cheeks are rosy, my eyes glazed over as the alcohol’s affects settle within me.
I turn the faucet on and splash some water on my face, trying to cool myself down. I put some into my hand and sip at it. The coolness going down my throat feels good, wetting my parched throat.
After using the toilet, I start to wash my hands but for some reason, something makes my skin prick.
The hairs on the back of my neck are standing and it’s not from the cold water.
Something is wrong and I can feel it in my gut. A feeling that I can’t ignore.
I don’t have my gun on me but the knife I keep tucked into my boot is ready if I need it.
I walk to the door and crack it ever so slightly. Right away, I want to scream out, spill my guts all over the floor. Seeing the scene before me makes me sober up almost right away.
The hooded man with the automatic gun is standing in front the entrance, barely in my eye line. I can’t hear what he’s saying over the screams coming from a few of the people.
I want to go out there, help my friends but I can’t risk their lives or my own. I slink back inside the restroom and pull my phone out. It takes a few tries but my shaky hands eventually get the cops on the line.
The operator keeps me on the phone but it’s no use. As I keep my watch through the small crack in the door, I see the man they call the Judge spray something on the wall. He doesn’t get to finish because, in the now silence of the club, the police sirens ring inside.
“Who called the fucking cops? Who?” His booming voice echoes inside the quiet club. That is until he shoots his gun off until he’s out of bullets.
He turns his head in my direction and for a moment I’m frozen. He makes his way across the dance floor, walking over people crouched down low. I realize as he gets closer that he’s headed for the emergency exit that sits just past the bathroom doors.
In the blink of an eye, I grab the knife in my boot. I wait until he’s close enough and I pull the door open.
“What the fuck?” He aims his gun at me but I don’t flinch. He pulls the trigger, not remembering that the bullets ran out. When he does, I take that small moment and thrust my knife into his leg. He lets outs a scream and stumbles backward into the wall but we both get distracted by a noise.
We turn our heads when we hear banging on the main doors. A battering ram pushes them open and I let out a sigh. The police have arrived. I turn back around to grab the guy but only to see him flee through the back door. I’ll let the cops deal with that because I need to find my friends and boyfriend.
People start to get up and in the crowded room full of crying, anger, and pain, I can’t find Brad, Josh, or Suzie anywhere.
I start to feel frantic while pushing my way through the onslaught of people rushing into the club. I look for anything, Brad’s tall, muscular body hovering over everyone else in the club, Suzie’s bright pink curls bouncing as she confidently walks in her five-inch heels, or Josh’s obnoxiously glaring party wear that makes him stand out in a crowd. Anything. I look anywhere and everywhere until I spot the familiar pink lying on the ground in a corner poking from underneath fallen ceiling and a table.
“Suzie!” I rush over to her, frantically pushing away the debris. Her eyes blink and I slowly watch her face contort in pain and grief as the realization hits her.
“Cam? Where’s my brother? He was here then he wasn’t. Where is he?” My skin runs cold as I look around for Brad and Josh.
“Suz, where’s Josh? I don’t see him. I don’t see any of them.” I help her sit up and take a look at her as I try to keep my voice steady. Luckily, nothing more serious than a few bruises from the table toppling over on her. “What happened?” She only shakes her head as her eyes start to fill up.
“He was here, that guy on the news. He started shooting and people just started going down. Brad got in front of me then he disappeared. Josh was behind me, so I’m not sure where he went. I got pushed out of the way and then it all went black. I don’t know what happened, Cam.” Suzie tries to explain things behind the fat tears rolling off her cheeks until all she does is rock herself.
I start to panic as I stand up. At the same time, all Suzie can do is mumble about not knowing what happened. I flip over a few of the tables and chairs around us, digging through the debris that fell from the ceiling as the shooter aimed his gun up. Each time I find nothing, my breathing speeds up and the more nauseous I get. I toss a piece of insulation aside and look at the two people lying underneath.
Josh’s body covers Brad’s, almost like he was trying to save him. With a shaky hand, I close his eyes while fighting the tears spilling over my own. Brad lies in a pool of blood, pale, and less than warm to the touch as I bend over to check for a pulse. I look over to Suzie as she stares at me with wide eyes and quivering lip.
I fall backward onto my haunches and throw up.
I fucking hate this day.