“You understand you’re refusing service,” the EMT said.
“Yes,” Kaiden replied.
“If it’s money, don’t worry about that,” Dylan insisted.
“Easy for you to say.” Kaiden gulped, his eyes dancing about, likely counting up all the expenses.
“There’s victims’ funds for this,” Dylan replied. “The paperwork’s a bitch, but I’ve gotten good at navigating it. They’ll cover the cost with or without insurance.”
Kaiden lingered, still reluctant as his face squirmed with fear. The healthcare system sucked, and most people didn’t know the first thing about navigating it. Dylan had learned every little trick, from free care, itemized billing, flat rate comps, and a thousand other things to ensure the residents at Dorothy’s Home always got the treatment they deserved.
“Get on the damn ambulance,” Dylan demanded. “Now.”
There wasn’t much Dylan could do about the six men who attacked Kaiden, who escaped in the night. There wasn’t anything he could do about the officers’ lackluster attitudes. But Dylan knew his way around the victim resources. The benefit ofhaving a shitty childhood and spending his teen years hustling. Years at Jasmine’s side had taught Dylan how to access county, state, and federal resources that the government seemingly went out of their way to hide from their citizens.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital soon,” Dylan said, helping Kaiden onto the ambulance with the EMTs. “I promise.”
As they drove off, Dylan turned to steal Rus away from the officers.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.” Rus glared.
“Not for you,” Dylan lied; he’d force Rus to get looked over once they arrived, but first and foremost, he wanted to make sure Kaiden got taken care of. “Kaiden needs us.”
“Right.” Rus nodded, then turned his attention back to the main officer he’d spoken with. “Hey piggy, I have to go to the hospital to check on my friend. You know, the one who was assaulted in a gay bashing you did your damnedest to overlook. Don’t worry, though. I got everyone’s badge numbers, and I’m persistent as fuck with follow-ups. Best believe I will be chasing you and your pension.”
“Let’s go.” Dylan tugged on Rus’ sleeve, wincing a bit at the blood soaking onto his friend’s shirt.
“Translation,” Rus shouted with a cupped hand. “Oink, oink, oinkity, oink, pig fuckers.”
The hospital visit was uncomfortable to say the least. Dylan dropped Daysha off first, against both of their wishes, but Rus insisted. He didn’t want to drag her there half the night for acouple of scrapes. He also tried convincing Dylan to drop him at the entrance and head home himself, but Dylan refused. This was about more than Rus. Dylan needed to make sure Kaiden was all right, too.
It took hours of waiting with Rus before anyone saw him. Even more hours before Dylan received an update on Kaiden’s state. More hours of sitting in a waiting room with worn and exhausted people he’d never seen before, all hoping for some relief in whatever misery brought them to the hospital in the middle of the night. The few times Dylan had nodded off, a sharp crick in his neck woke him up, and he jolted in his chair, startled and tired.
Rus came out first, glaring back at the staff before taking a seat beside Dylan. They didn’t speak. They just waited in silence. Though Dylan did notice the edge in Rus’ attitude simmered more the longer he stayed next to him. Dylan was arrogant enough to believe his soothing aura might’ve calmed his friend. But reality sank in, and Dylan suspected Rus had merely tuckered himself out by spewing rage half the night and literally getting into a six-on-one brawl.
“How’s your friend?” Dylan asked.
Rus quirked a brow.
“Daysha?”
“Sleeping, probably.” Rus shrugged. “Any updates on Kaiden?”
“Nope.”
In typical majestic Kaiden flair, he appeared from the sliding glass doors and stepped through into the waiting room area. Only, there was nothing majestic about his entrance. Usually, Kaiden had this knack for appearing when summoned or spokenabout, or if he knew some random trivia on whatever topic was discussed in his absence.
It was one of Dylan’s favorite things about his friend.
Now though, Kaiden appeared worn and exhausted. His eyes were swollen from crying and bruising. Small nicks lined his exposed arms as he’d rolled his dress sleeves up. Even his corset vest hung on him awkwardly. When he approached, Dylan noticed the loops on the back were loose and semi-unraveled. He must’ve taken it off for his exam and likely lacked the energy to redress.
“How are you?” Dylan rushed to his friend’s side, accompanied by a silent Rus.
“Just sleepy.” Kaiden tilted his head, almost resting it on his own shaky shoulder.
While Rus didn’t speak, his eyes studied Kaiden with this entranced observation. Dylan followed the gaze, taking in all the injuries Kaiden had suffered. They both noticed the red specks in Kaiden’s green hair, the funky whirl as the hair on the side of his head had been matted down in weird ways, and finally, they spotted the staples in his head.
