“Are you sure?” she asks condescendingly. “I just need to make sure for the report. Make sure there’s no reason for anyone to come back and ask anymore questions.”
“Well, my cock was inside of her, so…” I shrug, feeling empty.
Z shakes his head before he puts a couple more feet between us and looks down at his phone.
The agent’s face turns red as she looks down at her pad, muttering. “Yeah, that’s a little hard to misunderstand.”
“They’re at the hospital.” Z calls over.
“And when you got here?”
“I snuck in.”
“How were you able to get by half a police force?”
“I didn’t.” I pause, shaking my head and looking down. “They grabbed me and brought me into a waiting room. Drew was in there.”
“How’d you get out?”
“Shot our way out.” Leaning over and letting my head fall into my hands.
“They’re taking her into surgery.” Z calls out.
“I understand this is really difficult.” She tells me, flipping her notebook closed. “I’ll be by the hospital later; we can finish up there.”
Nodding my head, I stand up to head back over to the truck. “There was an older man.” I tell her, stopping as I’m about to walk off.
“What?”
“Yeah, he was like my parent’s age, 60s or so.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?”
“Not really.” Shaking my head. “He ran out of the room when everyone started shooting. I think someone called him Marc. Drew may be able to tell you more.”
Because she’s going to make it. She has to make it.
Z nods to head back to the truck. Holding out the keys for me to grab, but all I can do is shake my head.
Sliding into the passenger seat, leaning against the window, I watch as the clouds move over us, and the drops fall down, rolling down the window.
I’m surprised when he pulls up in front of my house.
“No, we have to go to the hospital.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Look at yourself right now.” And he flips down the visor. “She can’t see you like that when she wakes up.”
“You’re right.” Nodding my head, pushing myself out of the truck and walking up the front of my house.
I hear Z behind me as he follows.
It’s almost comical how Z makes himself at home in my house, immediately walking into the kitchen and hearing him opening cabinets.
Walking through my bedroom and into the bathroom.
Catching my reflection out of the corner of my eye stops me.
“Fuck,” I gasp, looking at the blood, Drew’s blood, that’s drying on my chest.
