WYATT
“It’s been a few hours. You sure you haven’t heard from her?” I ask Whiskey for the third time since waking up from another nap. Shaking his head, he pulls out his phone and shows me the screen; no missed calls. Weird.
Deciding to change topics, moving onto other things, Jamieson and I catch up on things unrelated to the accident. “How’s things on the circuit?”
He paces the floor of the room, scuffing his feet along the tiles as he ponders his answer carefully. “I was pulled from the team.”
“You’re shittin’ me. Why?”
“You, ya dumbass. I couldn’t be at the practices. I can’t very well hit the slopes in sunny fucking California. China needed me so bad that I couldn’t leave her alone for a second.” He pulls up the chair that Doll’s been sleeping in and reclines it back. “Plus, to be honest, I couldn’t fucking keep my head in the game when I was worrying about your melon, you stupid bastard.”
I laugh at that. “Could you find two or three more cuss words to add to that sentence, or were you full up.”
Pulling the handle a tad more, shifting the chair, his smile is genuine. “Stupid, fucking, little shit. That better?”
“Perfect. Thanks.” Reaching for my unexplainable lunch that they left, eating the only thing I find edible, I quickly push the table away.
“You gotta eat more than goddamn Jell-O, you puss. Do you want me to order in like China’s been doing for weeks on end?”
Smart fucking girl. “Yeah, I’m craving a cheeseburger from Patties. Think you could manage that?”
Nodding his head, he rises out of the dingy recliner. “Pussy. I’ll grab us a couple, and fries too. You still want that mayo shit on it?”
“Yes, mayo shit would be fucking fantastic, asshole.” Which grants me a larger than life Dad deep laugh. I miss that shit.
“Fine, mayo shit it is. There’s one here on campus. I’ll be back in a bit.”
JAMIESON
“Go get me a fucking burger he says.” I grumble while I pass a few doctors on the way to the elevators. Everyone is so tiny, and so fucking wasteful in their appearance. China told me Wyatt’s doctor gave her access to the gym. It’s for certain that no one here uses it. There must be a thick coat of dusting everywhere. In a zombie apocalypse, every one of these soft marshmallow puffheads wouldn’t live; they’d all be dead.
Stupid fucks. Dumb ass lazy cunts, all of them.
Every chance I’ve had, I slung my ass back to the house just to hit the gym. Going and getting Doll clothing was the perfect excuse to head out there. Obviously, that’s why I let the house witch pack her clothes instead of asking one of her girlfriends to do it. Plus, I know it’s safer than being around her friends. Nutbars, all of them.
As I wait, one of the other assholes standing at the elevator bank has already selected the bottom floor. Watching as it descends from the top floor toward us, at the excessive speed of ‘fuck all,’ I try to find some calm in my demeanour before I commit murder. Most times, I give in and take the stairs, but today I’m in no rush, as the woman that holds all my thoughts is out of town dealing with her own family bullshit. No use in flying down flights. It would just cause my chubby to ache with the want of her tight loving pussy that’s nowhere in sight. Just when I thought that staying in LA would get monotonous, I ran into her. Checking out board wax for her boogie board at Powder Kings. Watching her argue with Pete about something and schooling him on his perusal of her tits, I found it quite entertaining.
Just thinking about her short pink hair, piercing brown eyes and sinful body, gives me a wicked need for release.
Fuck. Now I have to stand here and will it under control.
Stupid idiot.
“Pardon?” I hear the puissant doctor beside me say.
Glaring at him, looking down upon a man that, well, if you call four foot nothing a man, he’s nothing more than a soft noodle. “What’s your problem, asshole?” I ask.
“You,” he stammers. “You called me a stupid idiot.”
Good going, James. Scare the little man.
Shit.
“Sorry,” I say quietly, without crassness or cynicism. “I didn’t mean that to you.”
He nods his thanks for the apology, then moves over a step. Standing there in uncomfortable silence, awaiting the final few flights of the elevator’s ascent, my phone pings. Pulling it out of my jeans, immediately the screen lights up with three missed calls. One’s from Cassidy, the house witch. Thank fuck I missed that one. One is from China with no message. The last one left a message from an unknown number about an hour ago. Shit, there’s no signal near Wyatt’s room.
Hitting the button, I listen. “You are in so much, so, so, soooo much trouble for not answering my calls. I’m at district seven booking using my single call. Get your ass over here. Don’t. Tell. Wyatt.” Playing it back again, China’s at the police station just off Crenshaw. Why?
“What the fuck are you doing there?” I ask myself. Really, I don’t get it, but I guess I better go find out.
The guy at the elevator looks at me with that same strange, scared rabbit look as before as I turn on my heel. Spinning back to the nurse’s station and toward Wyatt’s room, I dial Patties and place our order. Making my way back to his room, his nurse, Sali, is just coming around the corner.
“Excuse me.”
She stops and gives me a sweet smile. “Yes, Mr. Crown?” Fuck, I still hate hearing that.
“I have to run out. Could you please let my brother know I’ll be back in a bit?” I hand her fifty bucks. “I’ve order him something that should arrive shortly. Would you please give this to the delivery kid?”
“Sure, I can do that, Mr. Crown.” No matter how many times I hear that, it hurts like fuck. Dad was Mr. Crown, and I’m just Jamieson, the fucked-up son that was shipped out.
“No offence, but your hospital food is shit.” Handing her the money, I move off toward the stairs.
I hear her as I’m walking away. “Oh, we know.”