Big White Lie (Storm's Soldiers MC) (3 page)

She leaned in deep and the scent of some bright yellow flower sank on me.

But then a different hand moved into view.

“Rosa, we got it from here,” a man’s voice said. His chin hovered over me like a cliff’s edge.

She looked down on me. “You’ll be ok. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Her hand squeezed mine with surprising strength and she vanished.

I didn’t want her to go. I hadn’t spoken, but the way she had looked at me, it was like she could see who I was. We already shared a secret.

“Alright, big guy,” the new man said. “Just breathe deep, ok?”

An air mask came down on my face. It was just oxygen, but I took two breaths and I was out.

****

I came out of the daze in wall of quiet. Idly, I considered that I was in a coffin. Everything around me was white like cushions. But then I realized how far away it all was. This was just a hospital bed, with a curtain pulled around.

A baby blue robe covered me loosely. I had a flare of panic about my clothing. Then, I remembered I’d removed everything incriminating.

My throat felt like crumbling parchment. A tray near me held water and a small case of pudding. I chugged both and looked for more. I remembered the black nurse who had taken care of me. I had the urge to press the nurse’s button to bring her back.

I barely managed not to. The button wouldn’t bring only a nurse, not after I showed up here with a gun shot. Hospitals were obligated to report gun wounds to law enforcement. I was clear enough to know my mind wasn’t ready for that.

It took some time for the meds to wear off completely. I finally saw how much they’d fucked up my thoughts.

The nurse worked in ER. She wouldn’t be up here.

And what the hell was I thinking wanting to see her. I didn’t even know what she was. Black? Indian?

I remembered the doctor saying her name: Rosa. It sounded Mexican. She didn’t look it though.

It didn’t matter. There could be nothing between us but a nurse helping a patient.

I tried to figure out what about her had tempted me. My memories of arriving had faded, but her face had not. I could almost see it above me, long and elegant. She looked like an Egyptian queen.

So she was beautiful. There was no harm in appreciating that. I’d appreciated plenty of exotic beauty from a distance while on tour in Afghanistan.

At least, I appreciated what little flashes I saw: dark, serious eyes and sand-colored brows. The rest remained hidden beneath sashes and scarves and burqas. I’d lain awake at nights in base camp picturing what lay underneath.

It was all fine as long as it remained fantasy. I wouldn’t engage. End of story.

I focused on getting my injury story ready to withstand interrogation. I didn’t lie well. I knew that. But the situation was a lucky one - as far as taking a bullet could be.

The rounds matched that of my army-issued sidearm. Mainly, this was because I’d been shot at from the same model. The Storm’s Soldiers motorcycle club once had a part time business running guns.

I might have been hit by one of the very guns we sold. Still, the fault lay with the Soldiers. They had put me in the line of fire. I was pissed, but I wasn’t going to throw them to the dogs.

Eventually, a bleary-eyed Hispanic nurse came and noticed I was up. She pulled back the curtain halfway.

My bed sat right by the window, looking out at the middle stories of some high rises. The light helped my mood, but seeing those buildings made me feel caged. I got water from her and that helped. The moment she walked out, however, my clock started ticking down.

Two police officers walked in a minute later on the dot. The one up front was white and stocky, with a bulldog face. His partner looked like a pissed-off, black version of him.

“Mr. Black,” the white one said. “I’m Officer Carroll. This is Officer Wallace. You mind if we ask you some questions?”

“I need to warn you that you are under no obligation to speak,” Wallace snarled. “It’s your choice.”

“I get it,” I said. “Go ahead. It was just a stupid accident with my service weapon.”

“Describe to us how you got shot,” Carroll said. “We just want to hear it in your words.”

“I was an idiot,” I said. “The safety wasn’t on, and I dropped the gun.”

“Don’t tell me it went off and shot you,” Wallace said, snorting.

I didn’t give in to his taunt. “No. I picked it up. I gripped it wrong and it discharged at me.”

Judging by the size of the bandage, the bullet had made it out. It must be embedded back by the safehouse somewhere.

“Oh that makes much more sense.”

“I told you it was a stupid accident.”

“Where did this occur?” Carroll asked, scratching notes onto his little pad.

“Back home. My father’s house.”

“Is that where you live?”

“No, I stay on base at Camp McPherson.”

“So you’re active duty?”

“You already know I am. You must have run my name.”

“Oh we read up on you,” Wallace cut in. “How is it that a decorated veteran with two years of combat experience fires a gun in his own damn thighs?”

He must have read my whole file. He knew I ran with the Storm’s Soldiers before I enlisted. I had never been charged with anything criminal in that time. The affiliation itself must have pissed him off.

“By accident.” I spelled it out like I was speaking to a child. “If I had any idea it would force me to talk to someone like you, I would have been even more careful.”

His eyes burned like coal, but it just showed he was no threat. Carroll cut in. “Can your father verify this account?”

“He wasn’t home. I went over to fix something for him while he was out.”

“Out preaching?” Wallace asked.

“It
is
a Sunday.”

“And your father’s no minister.”

“Wallace,” Carroll said. “Focus.”

“I am,” he said. “I don’t buy this one bit.”

I said nothing.

“Is there anything else you want to add, Mr. Black?” Carroll asked. “Anything at all that we should know.”

“Remember your safety,” I said. “If it could happen to me, it could happen to anyone.”

Wallace looked like he wanted to spit on me. I just watched my blank TV. If he wanted me as an arch enemy, he’d have to wait in line.

“Alright, then,” Carroll said. “I’ll leave the precinct number if you think of anything else. We’ll run ballistics and be in touch. Thank you for your time and thank you for your service.”

I shot up as the two made for the door. “Ballistics?” I said.

“That’s right.” Wallace turned around with a cancerous smile. “You know, on the bullet fragments they pulled out of you?”

I chewed my lips and thought through things fast.

This wasn’t the end of me. The bullet caliber matched my gun. If they traced the make, they would find it to be an army munition.

But not everything was covered. I couldn’t rule out some unknown they could find with a test. It was a small risk, and one that I could handle personally. At worst, I might get discharged and do light time.

But if they got me, they might trace this thing all the way back. They could take down everyone in the Soldiers. Potentially, they could even indict my father.

He had led me astray on this matter. That didn’t mean I would ever let him fall.

I decided to try something.

“That’s not your call,” I said, right before the officers walked out.

“All gun injuries are ours to examine, pretty boy,” Wallace said.

“Sure, if you got here first. But you didn’t.”

His smile cracked.

“What?” Carroll asked.

“The Military Police already stopped by,” I said. “You want the bullet, get it from them.”

It was a long shot. But it was the only play I had lying here.

Carroll turned on Wallace. “I thought you were watching the room.”

“I was in the waiting room. The guy wasn’t going anywhere.”

“You didn’t see two giant-ass guys with helmets go past you?”

Jesus, it was working. These were Atlanta’s finest. I hoped neither had ever been affiliated with the US army.

Wallace itched the back of his head. He threw a glum look at me.

“What you so happy about?” he said. “Those guys are going to tear you a new one.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” I said.

I had no idea what I’d get at the base. There was no reason they’d have heard yet, but they’d ask questions when I showed up with a bandage and a limp.

The cops shot each other another disappointed look, then stormed out of the room.

The sun was setting outside. A heavy curtain weighed on my eyes. Blood loss has its way of making you exhausted.

I dozed for a bit and woke to the smell of boiled beef. Some brown stroganoff type thing had been set out for me. It looked like shit, but army life had prepared me well. I shoveled it down without even holding my breath.

The curtains at my side rustled. I clenched my fork like it was a combat knife.

A head peeked in. I loosened immediately.

“Hey, there,” Rosa said. “I just wanted to pop in and see how you’re doing.”

She was out of her bland, loose uniform. This might have been the opposite. A tight red T-shirt covered her body. A light navy sweater hung open on top, falling away from the swell of her chest. Her legs were wrapped tight under tan capris.

The only skin she flashed was her long neck. But I needed very little imagination to picture what it led to.

Stop this
.

“I’m good,” I said. “You’re done with your shift?”

“Yeah. You were the most exciting patient by far.” She winked sharply.

I felt tense again. I needed her to leave. I should just tell her I was too tired to talk.

Instead, I said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry you couldn’t be topped, or sorry for being so interesting?”

“I did nothing interesting. This was just a man being an idiot.”

“You’ve just defined all men.”

My mouth tugged up, but I pulled it tight.
She was wreaking havoc on my discipline.

“It’s ok,” she said. “Idiots still have their uses.”

Her voice sounded like a carousel, light and swirling. I could almost see it dancing as it came out.

I could only imagine how it would sound lost in ecstasy. I quenched the thought, but it didn’t die easy.

Rosa strode the length of the bed. She had changed her scent like her clothes. A tropical fruit breeze washed over me as she checked my monitors. It energized me just as her old one had soothed me.

Luckily, she had stopped flirting. A hard mask slipped over her face. She was committed to her work. I could see that.

In its own way, that only strengthened what she had awakened in me.

She hummed a line, then turned to me, her lips curled up once more. Her eyes probed my bandaged leg, then continued to other parts of me.

“The cops didn’t rough you up too bad, did they?” she asked.

“They were annoying,” I said. “But they left quick.”

“That’s the best they can do for you, am I right?”

Something overtook her eyes, but she blinked it away.

“Why’d you come here?” I asked.

“Just to see how you’re doing.” She chanced another glance at me. “And see if I can’t get the full story.”

“Story?” I asked.

“Yeah, specifically yours.”

“You want my whole story.”

“Just the gunshot would be a nice start.”

I looked at her a long while. There was something else at work in her. This dark thing that lay beyond the soft, lush exterior. But there was no trace it on her face now.

Maybe I was just looking for a reason to commit her to memory.

“How does knowing help with my care?” I said. “You’re not even working on this floor.”

“I will be tomorrow,” she said.

“You switched because of me?”

She spun out a long, rich laugh.

“Aw, no, hot stuff, not because of you. This is my job, you see.”

My heart lost its rhythm at
hot stuff
. I felt like a teenager. Like I had never been a soldier. Like I had never been in the Storm’s Soldiers.

“Well,” I managed to say. “In that case, you don’t need my story.”

I regretted the words immediately. But they had no effect on her cheer.

“I don’t need your story.” She went over to the foot of my bed and started flipping through the chart. “I can read it all right here and get the rest from the police.”

I watched her smooth, dark face furrow, watched her full lips as they murmured through the text. That was a medical chart. There was nothing there. And she wasn’t going to get anything from the cops.