of the long, rambling, unfiltered conversation had come back to me, and I had to wonder how stoned I’d been. I was always so careful of what I said, but the fact I’d unburdened my heart to a man I was hoping to impress, not scare off, coupled with the fact that I couldn’t recall precisely what we’d talked about, made everything that much more horrifying. Half of me was dying to call and see if he’d pick up, and the other half didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to lose what little I had of him before I’d even had lunch.
“What’d you do?” Chyna asked, rescuing me from my whirling, panicked thoughts, which was damn nice of her.
I whimpered a bit.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”
Grimacing, I met her gaze. “I think I talked too much while I was doped up.”
Her smile was sympathetic. “Yeah, that happens a lot. Demerol, man,” she conceded, shaking her head. “It makes ya kinda chatty before it knocks you out.”
I tried to cover my face with the pillow again, but she took it away, made me lean forward, and then put it behind my back.
“Just lie there like you’re hurt, all right?” she teased me.
“I––”
“Oh no,” she groaned under her breath, and pretended to check my IV as ADA Evan McCauley walked into the room.
He was wearing a polo and cargo pants, looking far more relaxed than he had the last time I’d seen him.
“How is he doing?” He put the question to Chyna.
“I don’t—what? Sorry, sir, I don’t think I’m qualified to answer questions. I mean, I’m just a candy striper.” The death glare, like she’d be glad to see him peeing through a catheter, before she walked out of the room doing a good impression of Frankenstein’s monster, complete with the lurching walk and extended arms, was a nice touch.
McCauley followed her to the door. “I said sorry a million times!” He turned back to me and threw his hands up in defeat.
I was waiting for an explanation.
“See,” he began, “when I came here a couple weeks ago visiting a witness, I thought she was too young to be a nurse, which is kind of a compliment if you think about it that way, but––it was an honest mistake.”
“Never mind,” I assured him, “it’s none of my business.”
“Why is she holding such a grudge about it? That seems overly spiteful, don’t you agree?”
Who took sides against their nurse? Who said the person was wrong who made sure people didn’t die or were in pain? “Did you apologize?”
“Of course.”
“Like what I just saw, or something remotely sincere?”
“That was sincere,” he barked at me.
I winced at the volume. “That was combative.”
“Well, what would you do?”
I squinted at him. Why was he asking me for advice? “I dunno, how about flowers?”
He shot me a look.
“Hey, I’m not the one who can’t help but put his foot in his mouth.”
He shook his head and moved close to the bed. “Whatever. I didn’t come here to discuss my issues with hospital personnel, I came here to talk about the four men who assaulted you going to jail after they get out of the hospital.”
“Who assaulted Savannah, you mean.”
“You and Savannah both, yes.”
“Why did you come all the way over here to tell me this?”
“Because I’m going to charge them, and I thought you’d want to know,” he replied, almost defensively.
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. He could have called. I really didn’t understand the need for the visit. “How’s Savannah?”
“She’s a bit banged up, and she’s still scared, of course, but she gave a fantastic point-by-point accounting of the attack and made you seem like Captain America coming to her defense.”
“Yeah, well, she’s young.”
“You saved her from being raped, Jeremiah. Don’t downplay that.”
I nodded. “Is Mr. Hornsberry all right? Did he get hurt?”
His eyes widened almost comically. “Uh, no. Mr. Hornsberry broke three of the guys’ jaws, fractured ribs on all four. He snapped one of the guys’ wrists, and no kidding, he broke one guy’s leg in two places.”
Mr. Hornsberry looked like a linebacker or a professional wrestler, and he’d been a longshoreman back east before he moved out to California. When I got home late and he was sitting out on his porch having a cigarette and a beer, I liked to sit with him and listen to his stories. He always invited me to share a cold one, which was how I knew he was awake last