Boomer tosses another handful of poppers on the ground. “No, I’ll finish it. You understand me? Next time, I’ll throw a grenade and we will see how fast you can shut the fuck up.” Boomer grips them by their necks and throws them in their respective chairs. “One more word out of the two of you, and I’ll make you walk barefoot on hot coals. Got it?”
“Yes, Prez,” the twins say in unison, unhappily.
I lean back, impressed he was able to get them to shut up, but the moment my skin touches the chair I cry out in agony. Maybe I should have taken that entire pill. “Can someone please help me to the couch?” I pant as sweat begins to bead along my forehead. My vision swims and I try to shake the dizziness, but I can’t. Everyone blurs together and right as I fall to the left, Arrow catches me.
“I got you, buddy.” He lies me down on the floor gently and I hear someone call for Pulse. I don’t have it in me to stay conscious. “This is what you get for trying to act better than the pain is,” Arrow snidely speaks his mind.
I’m stabbed with a needle next, and Pulse is squatting next to my head. “Morphine is about to knock you right out, One-Eye. When you wake, you’ll be in one of the hospital beds here. Since you can’t obey the other doctors, you’re going to obey me now.”
I hate obeying others, but my pain proved me wrong today.
Besides, Pulse is a big mother fucker. If I don’t listen, he has a hundred ways to kill me in the little doctor toolbox he carries around.
And if a Ferris wheel didn’t kill me, I’m not risking my second—no, wait—third chance at life by not listening to Pulse.
Life isn’t expendable. Pain is inevitable when you’re trying to stay alive. But it’s worth going through that pain to find what matters most.
If I have a third chance at life, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a second chance at love too.
“I thought you were bringing your daughter yesterday?” Mr. Lancer calls out from his office when I finally come into work the next day.
Has it really only been a day? It feels like an eternity.
“And I thought I said take the rest of the week off with what happened with the Ferris wheel? Alicia, I don’t expect you to work.”
“I need the money, Mr. Lancer.”
“It’s paid time off, Alicia. Go. If you show up next time, I expect to see your little girl by your side. I bought her coloring books,” he says with a little pout.
“Did you really? Oh my gosh, she would love them. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, I didn’t. I really like kids is all. Plus, seems like she’s been through a lot recently. Here.” He opens the drawer and pulls some things out, then walks over to me with a coloring book in his hand. “Take this with you. I’ll keep one here. She likes Frozen, right?”
“What little girl doesn’t?” I take the book from him and grin, feeling overly emotional at the simple yet amazing kindness he has shown. “She’s going to love this, Mr. Lancer. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Go be with her. I don’t know why you’re here. Crazy woman,” he mumbles under his breath. “I’m doing nothing but paperwork today and I’ll be closing early. I’ll see you later. Keep in touch if anything changes.”
“Will do,” I say, a bigger smile on my face than usual as I head out the door.
Huh. Mr. Lancer isn’t so bad.
I never would have thought.
I set the coloring book down on the passenger seat and crank the ignition, the engine sputtering for a brief second before it finally turns over.
Something presses against my head, and my stomach drops. I open my mouth to scream but I’m silenced with a harsh shush. I look up to the rearview mirror, terrified, and my heart breaks when I see a familiar face. A pair of cold blue eyes like something out of my nightmares is staring right back at me.
All my fears come rushing back, overwhelming me with terror. For a split second, I wonder how my ex came back to life after the Kings killed him. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to escape this monster.
But his face shifts in the mirror and I see that it’s not my ex.
It’s his brother, Vince.
And he has a gun pointed at my head.
He cocks it and licks his lips, staring at me all wide-eyed and strung out.
His skin is pale and clammy, his eyes bloodshot, and he has new prison tattoos on his arms.
“When did you get out, Vince?” My voice shakes as I speak.
“A month ago, and tickle me fucking pink when I noticed I haven’t heard from my brother.”
“Vince—”
“—Don’t fucking lie to me!” he roars, spit flying from his cigarette-infused mouth. The disgusting flecks of spittle land on my rearview mirror. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” I say weakly, which isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth.
It’s a half-truth.
A faded truth.
Honesty cloaked in a dagger.
I know he is dead, but I don’t know where his body is.
Loophole.
Therefore, I don’t know where he is.
“Drive home.”
“Vince, please. I have a daughter—”
He slams the gun against my head, and I cry out. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m not leaving you until I find him. Now drive,” he sneers his yellow teeth at me, keeping the gun pointed.
“Okay.” I gulp, shaking the dizziness from my head. “I’m going.” I reverse out of the parking lot, hoping someone around has witnessed this, but no one is around. My hands shake as I grip the wheel. All I can think about is how thankful I am Kimmy isn’t with me today, but with One-Eye.
He passed out yesterday from the pain and now he is under Pulse’s orders. I’m glad. Maybe he will listen to the doctor. Kimmy doesn’t want to leave his side. I don’t blame her. They were close before, but I can’t imagine how close they are now. Their bond must have grown in leaps and bounds up there on that Ferris wheel. Near-death experiences will do that to people. I’ll never really know what happened up there with them. My heart breaks as I think of my sweet daughter, my perfect little Kimmy, feeling all the fear, the unknown, the last-minute thoughts and actions.
And while there is a small part of me that wishes I knew, there is a bigger part of me that is glad I don’t.
I don’t want to know because I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the truth.
What if One-Eye had a brief thought of letting go? What if Kimmy did? What if they were so tired they wanted to give up?
I don’t want to know those details. They belong to Quin and Kimmy, and they will take those secrets and unknowns with them to their graves.
I’m just glad they both came back home to me.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Vince snarls, rubbing his arm under his nose as he sniffles.
I make a right down the road to my apartment. “A few months ago, I suppose.”
“You don’t know? He was always too good for you.”
“He was a drunk, Vince. He wasn’t good for me.”
That remark earns me a slap on the back of my head and I jerk the wheel from the force. The tires skid across the road, burning rubber on the pavement, and I jerk the wheel to the right, barely missing a car coming from the opposite direction.