Chapter
19 - A Soiled Word
The problem with hospitals is you
spend all day lost inside your head because sleep is nearly
impossible as they poke and prod you every two hours. Even though
I've been giving strong pain pills due to my wound, my mind refuses
to shut down every day for the past two weeks I've been stuck here. I
sit in my bed trying to process all the shit that went down inside
that house, and I'm getting nowhere. Every idea I came up with is
more twisted than a fucking Slinky inside a tornado. The entire
string of events makes no damn sense, and I'm going to fucking lose
my mind.
I keep recalling my snake dream, but
the day of the bomb is making me second-guess my theory about Amber.
She was in the room when I heard Madam. Also, she doesn't strike me
as the type that would set up explosives when she's going to be in
the same room. She might have a dangerous job, but I doubt she's that
suicidal. That alone is making me think that the snake dream was more
of my mind saying to never trust her fully. However, it also makes me
stop theorizing she's Madam.
Richard, on the other hand, is the
biggest mystery I'm trying to break wide fucking open. I
already loathe his dumbass for almost getting us killed over a happy
ending. Now, as I remember him holstering his pistol after I was shot
in the chest makes me wonder what his true intentions are. He was the
last person in the house as the gun went off as well. The only
problem is I have no way to prove it. The bullet made a clear exit of
my body, and if there was a gun in the house, the bomb took care of
it.
The bomb is the other part that is
bothering the fuck out of me. When I was in Curva, we never used
explosives. The main reason is they're purely attention grabbers
which is something Blue never wanted. We were taught to be discreet
when we solved problems. I don't think any of Blue's normal crew had
any bomb making skills. If we had to get rid of a body, we either
ditched deep in a swamp, took out into the deep parts of The Gulf of
Mexico, or Butcher disposed of it by other means. It's far from
Madam's normal operations, but it did achieve the goal that whoever
planted it wanted. If it was Madam, her message was well received
that she'll do whatever it takes to end my life.
So, I'm back to square fucking one.
I still want to know what shiteating bastard shot me, and for what
reason. If it's one of Madam's crew, I’m ready to start at the
bottom and work my way to the fucking top. I'm already furious that
Chulupa was mutilated by Madam. Now, I have to watch my own back as
well. I wonder if that Curva cop divulged any new information. He was
in Atlanta on Madam's behalf, and would be nice to learn why. I swear
every time I stumble on a new lead, it's literally blown to fucking
pieces. I'm seriously beyond tired of the secrecy, and the depths
Madam will go to keep them hidden.
I'm startled as there's a knock at
my door. I glance up to see Amber standing there holding a foam
takeout box. I smile as I smell the sweet aroma of pancakes as she
walks in, and sits down on the chair next to my bed.
"Why, hello beautiful, " I
say as my mouth drools over the pancakes inside the box.
"I take it you're smelling the
pancakes," she replies as she sets the box on my bed tray.
"Maybe, maybe not," I
reply smiling. No matter what happens, I can't deny how beautiful
Amber is on the outside. After the bomb incident, part of me is
saying to trust her a little more, but there's still the bloody gap
where my heart used to be. I'm torn as I’m slowly accepting she's
not Madam, but can't forget she used me. Right now, I'm struggling to
accept she's not a threat, but I should try to restore at least a
friendship if we want to get out of this alive.
"So, what's your take on the
bomb?” she asks.
"I think someone is trying to
be a copycat," I reply. "How Chulupa was murder screams
Madam's handiwork, but the whole explosives is making me think it was
someone else."
"Why? I know my time within the
cartel secrecy was key."
"Madam prefers to stay in the
shadows. We worked on the basis of stealth," I explain. "There
are times where we didn't even use guns to fix the leaks so to speak.
If she does have any kinds of explosives, I never seen them, much
less heard of them being used."
"Then there's the other
mystery," she sighs.
"Who shot me," I say.
"Yep. However, whoever did
plant that bomb made our jobs so much harder."
"It wiped out any evidence, and
made sure Chulupa’s body couldn't be autopsied," I state. "Did
that cop from Curva know anything?"
"Well, there's a problem with
him."
"Not talking?"
"He was found last night in his
cell poisoned," she explains. "I know it's an inside job
since no one outside of the guards and us have access. Someone is
covering their tracks to the point you're slowly becoming the only
person I can trust anymore."
"That's a soiled word between
us," I sigh. "However, I beginning to think that this whole
fucking situation is an inside job as well."
"I have a plan," she says.
"What I'm about to say doesn't go no further."
I eat my breakfast while listening
as she lays out the groundwork for her plan. The entire foundation of
her idea is once I'm healed enough to get out of here, I'm going
underground. I won't have any electronics or anything. She wants me
so off the grid that I might have to be homeless for a bit so there's
no way anyone can track me. The problem we face is if we need to
reach other since I won't have a cellphone. We spend the next thirty
minutes when I came up with an idea. We make a code system where I'll
call from a random phone, and use a sentence to describe the place to
meet and the purpose. We'll have to figure out a few places because
if we keep meeting at the same place, I'll be found.
"When you leave here, go to
Peach Diner and ask for Larry," she says. "The book will be
there along with a few other things."
"Got it. Sure this will work?"
"If you can trust me enough,
yes."
"At this point, I trust you
enough to go to that diner," I reply.
"Good. I'm going to get out of
here. Again, go see Larry once you're discharged."
She leaves the room, and I finish my
pancakes while thinking about what the fuck just happened. I can't
believe I made a fucking deal with the same woman who ripped out my
heart. However, with someone trying to kill both her and I, it's the
only way we'll survive. I also think more and more there's something
up with Richard. That fucking prick is probably Madam's mole. Once I
get out of here, I'm going to start my original plan of bringing down
Madam. I'm fucking tired of worrying if the next step I take is my
last.
An hour later, a nurse walks in. She
hands me my clothes and a piece of paper while stating. "You're
free to go."
I quickly get dressed, and walk out
of the hospital. I use my last few bucks for a pack of smokes, and
bus fare. As I sit on a bus heading towards Peach Diner, I hope this
isn't another setup. However, I also think if Amber really wanted me
dead, she could have easily done in the hospital. Needless to say,
Larry is the person who holds the keys to my future. Right now, the
future is unsteady as a house built on quick sand. I pray that the
plan we made will work so I can end the madness of Madam while
finding out the bastard that shot me. If this diner is a trap, they
better at least serve me pancakes before ending it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment