I wake to the unpleasant sound of machines beepin’ in my ear. The lights in here are bright. I squeeze my eyes shut to avoid the blinding headache. My chest hurts, feels like an elephant stomped around on it with knives strapped to its feet. It feels like I got shot.
I look around the room, and I’m surprised to find that I’m alone. My right arm is handcuffed to the bed, giving me no slack. I shake it as hard as I can. Metal clanks against metal, and I cringe as the cuff cuts into my wrist, drawing blood. Fuck.
“Oh, you’re awake.” The nurse saunters in the room as I’m in the middle of my temper tantrum, just another day on the job for her. “Do you remember how you got here?”
“What’s with this?” I ask, gesturing to my hand anchored to the bed.
“Relax, sir. That’s for your safety and mine.” Right. “I’ll send the doctor in to discuss your treatment, and there are quite a few officers outside that would like a word with you when you feel up to it.”
“No need. I ain’t sayin’ shit.”
She purses her lips together like she wants to give me a piece of her mind, but she doesn’t. Instead, she offers some wisdom. “That’s up to you, but a bit of advice, if I may… I think it would be in your best interest to cooperate with those fellas out there. Whatever you did to get yourself in this state, they are not happy.” I still say nothing. “Are you in pain? How would you rate it from one to ten?”
“No. Zero,” I lie.
Sighing, she types on her computer for another minute before exiting the room. It’s not long before two cops work their way in.
“Roman Blackhart?”
“That’d be me.”
“You like to tell me what’s going on here?”
“You mean you’re not room service?”
He ignores my joke, but I can tell I’m gettin’ on his nerves. “What were you doing at Arcane this morning? Ran the tapes, and it wasn’t your first visit either.”
Silence.
“Are you aware of what goes on at Arcane during regular business hours?”
Silence.
“Did you shoot an individual named Armillio Caballero, who just so happens to be Arcane’s owner, and an Angel Vasquez?” Angel must be that smelly fuck I shot in the hallway.
“No,” I lie again. The cops exchange a glance at each other. Dumbass number one gets up and walks over closer to my bed.
“Got an off-duty officer who says you did. Says he saw it happen. Was sitting at the bar, doing a little ‘undercover sting’ when he saw you walk in.”
“Undercover, right. You mean your dirty cop on Arcane’s payroll.”
The cop smirks like he just won the lottery. “Did an… extensive… background check on Mr. Caballero, connected him with an Emerson Blackhart and a Diane Blaine. Sound familiar?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I warn him.
“You picked a bad day to be a hero, Blackhart.” He pats me on my chest, where the bandage is covering my bullet wound. “Don’t go anywhere.” He chuckles and points to my handcuffs. “Oh, that’s right, you won’t.” He gathers his papers, and dumbass number two follows close behind him. Dumbass number one turns around just before closing the door. “We’ll be in touch.” He winks.
I slowly turn around as Armillio walks straight into my line of vision. I could kill him right fuckin’ now. He waltzes over to me like he doesn’t have a death wish. He holds both arms out to his sides, stretched out wide, in offering. “I always knew this day would come,” he taunts with a laugh. “Just thought it would be a lot sooner than now.”
I stare him down, waiting for the right moment. This is too easy. I want to make him suffer like he did them.
There’s a scuffle at the bar, but I don’t dare turn my head or take my eyes off the monster who I let destroy my family—my mom, my baby sister, Leylah.
I hear a gunshot off to the right where all the commotion is comin’ from. Armillio keeps darting his eyes from me to the door, unsure of which one he should tend to first.
The decision is made for him when the air gets cloudy. We can’t fuckin’ breathe.
Tear gas.
I’m losing my chance, just standing here. I cover my nose with my shirt and make my move. I pull my knife out of my boot as he raises his gun, but I’m quicker. I shove it straight through his neck, slicing through his carotid artery. I stand over him and watch in fascination at all the blood spurting out of him. I’m just as sick as he is for loving this so much.
I don’t have much time left. I lose the knife and hold my gun at his temple. Blood splutters from his lips; he’s fading in and out. I’m not letting him slip out of this life that easily, no. Over and over, I fire straight into his temple until his body goes limp, his soul on its way to hell where it belongs.
My victory is short lived when I run out of bullets and look around at the chaos around me. I glance down at my chest and realize I’ve been hit. More than once. The guy at the bar aims and shoots another hole in my chest, right above the first one, followed by a shot in the arm. My gun falls to the floor with a loud clatter from the impact.
I sink to my knees, or at least I think I do. It feels like I’m in quicksand. Free falling to the ground. This is it. Armillio is pulling me down with him.
I jolt awake when the door closes with a bang. Must have been the nurse. I try to sit up best I can, still anchored down to the bed. My pain is at a minimum compared to what it was. Bitch from earlier gave me something in my IV.
The phone is right there on my bedside table. I could call Leylah and tell her where I am, to get me the fuck out of here. We could go somewhere with Blaze, take all our money and never look back.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. It’s the drugs in my system talkin’. Can’t do that. Everything is part of the plan. This wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter now. She has someone to take care of her. Blaze stalked him for months for me. He’s legit.
Fuck it hurts. Everything hurts. And I’m not just talkin’ about the bullet holes in my body. I’m talkin’ about the ones that were left there by all the people I love leaving me. I lay my head back against the shitty hospital pillow and let the pain meds take me under.