“Who are you?” I ask. “You know Bear?” The man comes up beside me to sit down on the gurney, and that’s when my fuzzy brain starts to recognize him, but I can’t remember how I recognize him. I try to stand up from the gurney but when I make a move to stand, I wobble. The man grabs my arm to steady me and sets me back down.
“Of course I know that fuck. He’s one of my best friends,” he says, like I should already know this. “You’re fucking smoking hot,” he says looking me up and down. “You wanna make out?”
“Huh? What?”
“But since Bear’s my friend, no tongue though. Okay, maybe a little tongue, but only because you asked. No dick though. I draw the line there. Okay, only all the way in, but only for like an hour or two. Sound good?”
“What?” I ask again, rubbing my temples and trying to clear my mind so I can get a grasp on what exactly is going on here.
“Okay, okay, just until we both come. Or just me. Or whatever. Ground rules are important when starting a new relationship. I saw that on Oprah and that bitch knows her shit. If you don’t follow her book club you should.”
“Who are you again?” I ask and as I look at him, it finally registers how I recognize him. From the photo in Bear’s apartment. He’s telling the truth. He’s Bear’s friend.
Bear’s DEAD friend.
“I’m Preppy.”
“But you’re…” I start but Preppy waves me off.
“That’s not important,” he says dismissively.
“How are you here?” I ask.
“Shit you ask more questions than Doe. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Doe?”
“Ray,” he says. “But if you want to sing the entire song from the Sound of Music I’ll have to find a pitch pipe and I’ll need to lube up my vocal cords.” He looks between my legs. “I think I know how to—”
“Preppy, can you focus for one sec?”
“Mmmmmmm?” he asks finally looking at my face. He reaches out and plays with a strand of my hair.
“Please just tell me why you’re here. Why I’m here.”
“You’re here because people suck, and I’m here for you because you need me and because I didn’t know when I was going to get a chance again to introduce myself to Bear’s girl.”
“But you’re…”
“Still not important,” he says.
“Then am I in a mental hospital?” I ask.
“No, why would you think that? Are you crazy? Did Bear catch a crazy one? He’s supposed to toss the crazy ones back. Didn’t I teach that bitch anything?” Preppy asked with a huff.
“I don’t know why I think I’m in a mental hospital, maybe because I’m sitting on a gurney talking to Bear’s best friend, who’s dead?”
“Awe that’s cute,” Preppy says, running the back of his index finger across my cheek. This man is a stranger to me. This gesture is an intimate one, like we know each other, so it should creep me out and make me jump back, but instead I find myself leaning into his touch, finding comfort in it.
“What’s cute?” I ask.
“That you think that even death could keep me away from my family,” Preppy whispers.
“I’m so confused,” I admit, falling backwards onto the gurney. Preppy follows and when I look to my right, I find him lying beside me and looking right at me. I could feel his cool minty breath across my face as he spoke.
“When you see King and my girl Doe can you please tell those bitches that Preppina the Magnificent would have been a way better name than Nicole Grace? That shit sounds like she’s already in line for the fucking nursing home. I’m going to have to watch over her just to make sure she doesn’t get beat up on the playground and trust me that shit is no fucking fun. I used to get into fights every single day, and even though I won every single one of them with my brawn and wit, I don’t want that for little Preppina.”
“Okay?” I say, unsure of what I am really agreeing to or what exactly it means.
“Now sleep, baby girl. Because I have a feeling that this big bad biker I know is coming to rescue his ole lady,” Preppy says. He leans forward, and for someone so harsh with words, he plants a gentle kiss on my lips.
“He’s coming?” I ask as Preppy tucks me in.
“Fuck yeah, he is. He’s coming to rescue your fine ass and then, if you’re lucky, he’s going to come everywhere else.” Preppy barely takes a breath between sentences. “I love that big fucking brute. I never doubted him for even a second. Or just for a minute. Maybe it was 50/50 for a while, but the bitch is lucky he came to his senses, because I had this whole plan laid out to haunt him by starting his bike in the middle of the night. Ghost Rider style.”
“I still have no idea what’s going on,” I admit to the confusing man.
“Shhhhhh, pretty girl. Get some rest, will ya? I’m sure Bear is gonna throw some D like a champ once you get some energy back, so you’re going to need to rest up unless you want to tap out from that shit, and I’ve seen that fucker in action. I mean to this day he’s never found that camera…” Preppy looked off into the distance. “Good times. Good times,” he mutters, smiling as if recalling the memory.
Preppy brushes my hair off my forehead and again looks me up and down, his gaze lingering for a beat too long on my midsection. “But in all seriousness, there is one thing I need you to remember, Ti, baby. Promise me that when you get the chance, you’ll do one thing for me and you can’t forget.”
“What’s that?”
“Run.”
With that Preppy walks back toward the window and in the time it takes me to blink, he’s gone. As my eyes again grow heavy and the call of sleep becomes all too powerful to ignore, I could swear I hear him mutter, “Do any of those fucking dildos know how to use a motherfucking rubber?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Thia
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
The sound of a pipe leaking echoed in my ears, dragging me slowly back into reality.
Handcuffs bit into my wrists. My arms strained above my head as I hung from a pipe that ran across the ceiling. When I could no longer hold myself up, my muscles gave out with a pop as my joints painfully dislocated. My chin fell to my chest. Wide tape covered my mouth, wrapped around the back of my head, pulling on my hair every time I turned my head. With one nostril stuffed up I felt dizzy, barley able to get enough oxygen through the other.
My vision blurred as I tried to focus on my surroundings. Grey. Concrete. An open ceiling with pipes and wires. Nothing on the bare walls. A metal cage in the far corner. In the center of the small room was a blue tarp. Next to the tarp was a red toolbox with a yellow electric drill set on top. It was all so clean.
Sterile.
I pulled on the cuffs above my head with a newfound strength I didn’t have seconds earlier. My legs flailed around uselessly in mid air as I struggled against my restraints.
The door opened and Gus entered the room. When I first met him in the park he’d protected Bear and myself. I’d even thought he was cute in a chubby-cheeked best friend kind of way.
That Gus wasn’t who walked into the room, though. This Gus looked up at me as I dangled from the ceiling, like I was a steak and he was a hungry lion who hadn’t eaten in months.
“Of course I know that fuck. He’s one of my best friends,” he says, like I should already know this. “You’re fucking smoking hot,” he says looking me up and down. “You wanna make out?”
“Huh? What?”
“But since Bear’s my friend, no tongue though. Okay, maybe a little tongue, but only because you asked. No dick though. I draw the line there. Okay, only all the way in, but only for like an hour or two. Sound good?”
“What?” I ask again, rubbing my temples and trying to clear my mind so I can get a grasp on what exactly is going on here.
“Okay, okay, just until we both come. Or just me. Or whatever. Ground rules are important when starting a new relationship. I saw that on Oprah and that bitch knows her shit. If you don’t follow her book club you should.”
“Who are you again?” I ask and as I look at him, it finally registers how I recognize him. From the photo in Bear’s apartment. He’s telling the truth. He’s Bear’s friend.
Bear’s DEAD friend.
“I’m Preppy.”
“But you’re…” I start but Preppy waves me off.
“That’s not important,” he says dismissively.
“How are you here?” I ask.
“Shit you ask more questions than Doe. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Doe?”
“Ray,” he says. “But if you want to sing the entire song from the Sound of Music I’ll have to find a pitch pipe and I’ll need to lube up my vocal cords.” He looks between my legs. “I think I know how to—”
“Preppy, can you focus for one sec?”
“Mmmmmmm?” he asks finally looking at my face. He reaches out and plays with a strand of my hair.
“Please just tell me why you’re here. Why I’m here.”
“You’re here because people suck, and I’m here for you because you need me and because I didn’t know when I was going to get a chance again to introduce myself to Bear’s girl.”
“But you’re…”
“Still not important,” he says.
“Then am I in a mental hospital?” I ask.
“No, why would you think that? Are you crazy? Did Bear catch a crazy one? He’s supposed to toss the crazy ones back. Didn’t I teach that bitch anything?” Preppy asked with a huff.
“I don’t know why I think I’m in a mental hospital, maybe because I’m sitting on a gurney talking to Bear’s best friend, who’s dead?”
“Awe that’s cute,” Preppy says, running the back of his index finger across my cheek. This man is a stranger to me. This gesture is an intimate one, like we know each other, so it should creep me out and make me jump back, but instead I find myself leaning into his touch, finding comfort in it.
“What’s cute?” I ask.
“That you think that even death could keep me away from my family,” Preppy whispers.
“I’m so confused,” I admit, falling backwards onto the gurney. Preppy follows and when I look to my right, I find him lying beside me and looking right at me. I could feel his cool minty breath across my face as he spoke.
“When you see King and my girl Doe can you please tell those bitches that Preppina the Magnificent would have been a way better name than Nicole Grace? That shit sounds like she’s already in line for the fucking nursing home. I’m going to have to watch over her just to make sure she doesn’t get beat up on the playground and trust me that shit is no fucking fun. I used to get into fights every single day, and even though I won every single one of them with my brawn and wit, I don’t want that for little Preppina.”
“Okay?” I say, unsure of what I am really agreeing to or what exactly it means.
“Now sleep, baby girl. Because I have a feeling that this big bad biker I know is coming to rescue his ole lady,” Preppy says. He leans forward, and for someone so harsh with words, he plants a gentle kiss on my lips.
“He’s coming?” I ask as Preppy tucks me in.
“Fuck yeah, he is. He’s coming to rescue your fine ass and then, if you’re lucky, he’s going to come everywhere else.” Preppy barely takes a breath between sentences. “I love that big fucking brute. I never doubted him for even a second. Or just for a minute. Maybe it was 50/50 for a while, but the bitch is lucky he came to his senses, because I had this whole plan laid out to haunt him by starting his bike in the middle of the night. Ghost Rider style.”
“I still have no idea what’s going on,” I admit to the confusing man.
“Shhhhhh, pretty girl. Get some rest, will ya? I’m sure Bear is gonna throw some D like a champ once you get some energy back, so you’re going to need to rest up unless you want to tap out from that shit, and I’ve seen that fucker in action. I mean to this day he’s never found that camera…” Preppy looked off into the distance. “Good times. Good times,” he mutters, smiling as if recalling the memory.
Preppy brushes my hair off my forehead and again looks me up and down, his gaze lingering for a beat too long on my midsection. “But in all seriousness, there is one thing I need you to remember, Ti, baby. Promise me that when you get the chance, you’ll do one thing for me and you can’t forget.”
“What’s that?”
“Run.”
With that Preppy walks back toward the window and in the time it takes me to blink, he’s gone. As my eyes again grow heavy and the call of sleep becomes all too powerful to ignore, I could swear I hear him mutter, “Do any of those fucking dildos know how to use a motherfucking rubber?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Thia
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
The sound of a pipe leaking echoed in my ears, dragging me slowly back into reality.
Handcuffs bit into my wrists. My arms strained above my head as I hung from a pipe that ran across the ceiling. When I could no longer hold myself up, my muscles gave out with a pop as my joints painfully dislocated. My chin fell to my chest. Wide tape covered my mouth, wrapped around the back of my head, pulling on my hair every time I turned my head. With one nostril stuffed up I felt dizzy, barley able to get enough oxygen through the other.
My vision blurred as I tried to focus on my surroundings. Grey. Concrete. An open ceiling with pipes and wires. Nothing on the bare walls. A metal cage in the far corner. In the center of the small room was a blue tarp. Next to the tarp was a red toolbox with a yellow electric drill set on top. It was all so clean.
Sterile.
I pulled on the cuffs above my head with a newfound strength I didn’t have seconds earlier. My legs flailed around uselessly in mid air as I struggled against my restraints.
The door opened and Gus entered the room. When I first met him in the park he’d protected Bear and myself. I’d even thought he was cute in a chubby-cheeked best friend kind of way.
That Gus wasn’t who walked into the room, though. This Gus looked up at me as I dangled from the ceiling, like I was a steak and he was a hungry lion who hadn’t eaten in months.
