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Keys grabs the half-finished lolli from the ashtray and pops it in his mouth. “You think Doc and Kendrick are done playing All the King’s Horses and All the King’s Men down there?”
I twist my wrist and check my nonexistent watch. “Only one way to know for sure. Wanna clean up first before you go meet our new guest?”
Chapter 3
Kendrick
Doc and I work on the new guy for a solid hour before he’s finally stable. Bunny and Keys show up about halfway through and watch from what Doc calls “The Gallery,” which is just a fancy term for a crumbling hole in the wall between his workspace and the hallway.
When you choose a condemned building for your base of operations—literal and figurative operations—you can’t be too picky about its physical state.
Several stitches and ice packs later, Doc snaps off his gloves and gestures for Keys and Bunny to come on in. Both of them have wet hair, and Bunny’s changed from her “going out” outfit to a pair of short shorts and a loose tank top with the words “Swing Away, Merrill” drawn on it in Sharpie. She’s taken out her pink contacts and is wearing her favorite thick-rimmed glasses. Keys is in his usual cargo khakis and open button-down shirt. For a skinny guy, Keys sure enjoys showing off his chest. Maybe he’s just proud of his nipple rings.
Bun has one of Keys’ lollipops in her pouty mouth. She pops it out long enough to ask Doc if our rescue is gonna make it through the night.
Doc sighs and unties his dreads. “I’ve wrapped his hand, but surprisingly there aren’t any broken bones. He’s going to have one helluva shiner when he wakes up, and thankfully there doesn’t seem to be any brain damage, so he should, in fact, wake up. Eventually.”
I rub Doc’s back and shoulders to take away some of the inevitable ache. He gets hyper focused when we have a patient, and he tends to forget to take breaks. He’s our resident former resident, so he needs to take care of himself. Bunny’s always bringing home strays that need patching up; we need him to put all her Humpty Dumpties back together.
Bun starts introducing our guest to Keys, even though the guy’s still out cold … even though she has no clue who he is, either. That doesn’t stop Bunny, though. The kid’s got a good heart.
“Kid.” Heh. I forget she’s twenty-six now. Sometimes I think she’s still that scared teenager I found ten years ago. My first rescue. She and Doc, they’re the ones I look out for. Keys I can take or leave, but Bunny’s fond of him, so we let him stay.
Anything for Bunny.
Which is why I suspect this new rescue might end up being a new recruit. Bun seems fascinated with him; just the way she looks at him, stroking his cheek as he sleeps off the anesthesia. Keys gives him an odd look, too, and a nagging suspicion tickles the back of my mind. Does Keys know this guy?
No, that’s ridiculous. Keys is a hermit. Dude never leaves the Burrow; he doesn’t even buy his own lollipops. Bunny’s the one who makes sure we have plenty of those in stock to feed his oral fixation.
I shake my head to clear it, turning my focus to Doc. “You good, man?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He sniffs and rubs his nose, an old habit. “I’m fine.”
Steering him towards the elevator, I lead Doc downstairs to our makeshift cafeteria. Basically, we pilfer nonperishables and other staple food items and stock them up in one of the Burrow’s many rooms, where a discarded camp stove I fished out of a Dumpster allows us to heat what needs to be cooked, and a few mini fridges we procured from social media sales pages keep the cool items fresh.
“What are you hungry for, Jefferson?”
Doc knows that when I use his full name, there’s no use saying “No, thanks” to my offer. He peruses our stockpile and picks out some canned tuna and crackers. It’s not a meal, but at least he won’t starve because he forgot to eat.
Once I’m satisfied that he’s gotten enough in his belly, I grab some beef jerky sticks for myself and nosh on them. The two of us sit at the concrete park bench I lugged in here, straddling the seat with our shoulders hunched in exhaustion.
“You think he’ll stay?” I ask through a mouthful of jerky.
Doc raises a brow. “You think Bunny’s gonna let him leave? Even if he didn’t have the Vipers after him, she’s attached already. You know she’s a sucker for baby blues.”
I just grunt and rip off another bite of beef. Bunny doesn’tonlylike blue eyes. Doc’s eyes are green, and mine are brown. “He’s a soft one. No calluses, not really any scars or anything. Though I gotta admit, seeing the D&D tattoo juxtaposed with the Prince Albert when we cut his clothes off to triage him—that took me off guard.”
“Yeah. His glasses have blue light coating on them, too, so he probably works with computers a lot. What do you think? Data entry?”
“Who cares? We’ve already got one Keys; we don’t need another.” I snort and tear open a Twinkie, breaking the spongey pastry in half to share with Doc. “I dunno. Maybe he’s got some magical skill that Keys is lacking. That’s the only reason I could envision him fitting in here. We all have a job to do. He’s gonna have to prove himself useful for more than a pretty face if he wants to stay.”
It’s Doc’s turn to snort. “If he can work that PA any kind of way, we may be stuck with him, useful or not. You know Bunny.”
“Yeah, I do …”
I know Bunny better than anyone, well enough to know that this crush of hers is going to lead to a mess of trouble. I don’t knowhowyet, but I know he’s going to get us caught up in the middle of some nasty shit. Viper shit.
Samson Ramsey and his Summer City Vipers run this town. We’ve managed to avoid major conflict with them so far, making sure nothing we steal is Viper property and no one we kill is directly connected to them, but that’s out now. Bunny just took herself off the peripheral radar and painted a big, bloody target in the middle of her back. I’ve gotta remember to have Keys monitor the net for any indications that she’s been identified. We high-tailed it out of that club pretty fast, but the guard she shot could still ID her—plus I spotted some security cameras in that hallway.
