“So did I get shot? Is that what you’re asking?”
“Yes. I remember there was a scuffle as the gun went off, and now you turn up here hurt. I guess I just thought...”
“Well, you’re half right. We tussled as you pulled the trigger, just like you said. You passed out cold, and I fell to the ground as well. It took me a while to work out that I’d been hit, though. It was surreal. I actually felt nothing initially. It was only the sensation of wetness as the blood seeped into my T-shirt that alerted me to the fact that there was something wrong. It took a good few more seconds of staring at my red-stained hands before I finally figured out what the fuck was going on. Up until that point, I wasn’t in pain, but once the notion that I’d been wounded hit my brain, so did the agony. Shock is a thing.”
“But how did you survive a shot at close range with a hunting rifle? It’s impossible.”
“No doubt, but I guess I got lucky. From what we can tell, the bullet ricocheted off of something in the struggle, and I escaped with a flesh-wound. Really it’s just a graze.”
“‘Just’ a graze? You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I don’t remember much, but I do remember the smell of burnt skin, that’s not ‘just’ anything, it’s a serious injury.”
“It’s manageable, and definitely nothing compared to what it would have been if I’d taken that bullet for real.” I shuddered at the thought. It would have taken a miracle for him to survive.
“Hmm... still. Why didn’t you come in when you dumped... I mean, left me here? Surely you need medical attention, rather than just dosing up on pain meds?”
“That was never going to happen. How would I have explained how I sustained a gunshot wound, graze, or otherwise? You know they have to inform the police of shit like that, right? It would have meant a one way ride to the pen.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t rule that out just yet.”
“What?”
“Nothing. So you’re just walking around popping codeine with an open cut on your side? What about the risk of infection, or not healing properly? That can kill you too, you know.”
“I’m well aware. It’s been dealt with. Our friend has a friend. She took care of business, and she won’t say anything to anybody.”
“A friend? What kind of friend are we talking?” I really dreaded to imagine.
“A doctor of course. What did you think I meant, a car mechanic, or a beautician? Emma is a legit MD, not a backstreet butcher, either.” He chuckled, as though I was some kind of naïve moron.
“Okay, but just so we’re clear, when you say she took care of business, you mean she patched you up?”
“Yup.”
“What like you see in the gangster movies, where they pull the bullet out while the guy lies on the kitchen table swigging vodka from the bottle to try to numb the pain?”
“Kind of. I guess. Except I was on the couch, there was no bullet, and she gave me a shot beforehand, for the pain, so no need for the vodka, either.”
“Jesus. That’s next level.”
“I’m not going to argue with you there, it’s pretty wild. Plus, even with the drugs, it still hurt like a motherfucker. But it’s done now, and there’s no gaping laceration, which is the main thing.”
“Is it the main thing, though?” I tried to keep a lid on my anger, but failed miserably. “I’d say the main thing is that you kidnapped me and almost had me shot, while a hitman had my baby sister in his sights.”
“Of course. I just meant that I feel lucky that I got the medical care I needed without attracting any unwanted attention, that’s all.”
“There’s still plenty of time and ways to attract unwanted attention. I could do it right now. I mean, I could very easily push that red button, call someone in here and tell them the whole sorry story. What makes you think I won’t?”
He looked off into the middle distance for an extended moment. “I guess I just trust my gut. And I trust you.”
“You mean the same way I trusted you, and you trusted your best friend? How did that work out for us? Seriously, though, do you think that maybe you’re not the best judge of character? Neither of us are.”
“So, you are going to tell the police?” He eyed me cautiously.
“No, I’m not, but not for the reason you think. Trust has nothing to do with it.”
“What does it have to do with, then?”
“Fear.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Well, like I said before, I have to think about Rhea’s safety, and I have to deal with what I know. Right now, I know I’m alive and so is she. While those two facts remain true, my lips are sealed.” I looked at him pointedly, checking I understood me. He nodded.
“I know you don’t believe me, but she isn’t, and never was in any danger. He’s many things, and not all of them are good, but he’s not a murderer.”
This time I looked at him as though he was out of his mind. “I think you need to rethink your opinion of him. He was going to kill me.”
“He was going to have you kill yourself. It’s not the same thing.”
“That’s semantics.”
“I’m not defending him, but I honestly do think they are different. It’s one thing to have someone else pull the trigger, another to do it himself. I know for sure that he’s compartmentalized the two in his head. As far as he’s concerned, having you do the deed would have been payback, retribution, or poetic justice. Doing it himself would have been murder. Anyway, like I’ve already said, I think he was banking on neither one happening.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We’re going round in circles, and the whole thing is pointless. Nothing you do or say is going to influence my actions, so I don’t even know why we’re wasting our breath. You say you can trust him, and he’s not going to hurt Rhea, but how do you know he’s not out there doing that right now, while you’re here with me?
“You’re right, I guess I don’t know that for sure.” He at least had the decency to look contrite.
“Exactly. Come to think of it, why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be with your best friend, not the person he hates most in the world?”
“I’m here to be with you.”
“You mean, to make sure I don’t turn you guys in,” I corrected him sharply.
“Not at all. We barely spoke on the way back from dropping you here, and then when we got back to the dorm, we fought—verbally—about the whole thing. I took off as soon as the doctor put the last suture in my wound. I came straight here, and I haven’t spoken to Fox since.” So he could be anywhere doing anything, and you wouldn’t know it, anyway.
“So the two of you aren’t speaking?”
“I guess you could say that. His last words to me, as I walked out the door, were, ‘If you leave now, we’re done.’”
“And you still left. To be with me.”
“Yeah.” He looked at the floor as he spoke.
“You chose me over him?” I was so confused about the whole situation.
“I did.”