The Interview (31 page)

That was just about enough, thank you very much. I was pissed now.
Anger raced through me. I wished Thelma was there to tell me what my
aura was doing right then. It must have been a sight to behold. The
anger was replaced by happiness as I remembered a day long ago with
my father.

“Freeze!” a voice commanded. I had no choice. I was
already frozen. I could feel blood trickling down my face, running
across my stomach, and my entire body was consumed by fire. “Put
the gun down!” My savior. Officer Bradford. She must have been
driving the car that I heard. Could I have avoided all of this by
simply turning around and acknowledging her? Would I have wanted to?

“Oh!” Mrs. Hicks exclaimed. “What have I done?”

“Drop the gun! Now!”

I heard the sound of something clanking to the ground. I hoped it was
the gun. I didn't want to get shot anymore. The head wound was fine
with me, but those two in the chest hurt like a motherfucker!

I heard Bradford talking about an ambulance, but I was too focused on
the continuing flood pouring forth from my good old amygdala. There
was my mom. Oh . . . God, I loved her so much. And my father.

“Kelly? Kelly? Can you open your eyes?”

I managed to flutter my right eye open. Bradford was kneeling over
me. My entire body shuttered as what I felt for her raced down the
wires of my nervous system. “I want you so bad.” I
slurred as I said it, but she understood the words based on the
surprised smile that appeared on her face.

“That answers that question,” she said with humor and
concern.

“I didn't know. Wow.”

I heard somebody crying. It took me a moment before I remembered Mrs.
Hicks. I rolled my head to the left and saw her face down on the
driveway. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. She was crying.

“Let her go, Sam.”

“No way, Kelly. She just shot you three times. I'm not letting
her go.”

“She didn't mean it. She just really misses her husband. Please
let her go.”

The night I broke Frankie's heart came barreling up from the depths.
I convulsed into a fetal position as the evil of what I had done to
her came home to roost. Self-loathing and hatred consumed me. If I
could have reached Mrs. Hicks' gun I would have blown my brains out.

“Kelly!” Bradford sounded panicked, but I wasn't sure
because everything was getting dark. Darker. Darker. I was dying.
Darker. Where was the damn light I wasn't supposed to go into?
Darker. Black.

THE HITS KEPT ON COMING. My life played out before me in a never
ending wave of memories and emotions that threatened to leave my
sanity trampled beneath the stampede of their unions. The raging
river slowly began to recede. Now only swollen, then a creek, now a
trickle, and then it was done.

I opened my eyes and saw only glaring white. I closed them again and
went back to oblivion. The next time I opened them, the light was
dim. “Water,” I croaked. I was so thirsty.

A rustle of movement beside me. A hand slipped beneath my head and
eased me forward as a plastic cup touched my lips. Cold water entered
my mouth. I swallowed. The hand lowered me back to the bed.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” a woman's voice answered. I knew the
voice, but couldn't place from where. The voice was not the one I
expected. It wasn't Frankie, Annette, nor was it Kim or Casey.

“Who-” I started to ask but then sleep took me down once
more.

A hand gently shook my shoulder and I came up from sleep once more. A
tall man in a white coat stood over my bed. He smiled.

“Welcome back, Mr. Jenks.”

“OK.”

“I'm Dr. Russel.” Dr. Russel had dark hair, dark eyes,
and dark skin. His breath smelled like day-old shit. Oops,
correction, that was my breath. “How are you feeling?”

“Tastes like shit,” I said.

“I'll get you a toothbrush and toothpaste. This should help for
now.” He handed me a paper cup with blue stuff in it. My bed
began to rise forward until I was in a sitting position. I sniffed
the blue stuff. Mouthwash. I gargled for as long as I could then spit
it back into the cup.

“Thank you. Better.”

“How is your head feeling? Headache? Any sharp pains?”

I did an internal scan of my skull. It felt fine. I told him so.

“Excellent. I'm going to look into your eyes with a light. Tell
me if you experience any discomfort.”

He leaned close and held an instrument up to my left eye, then my
right. His breath smelled like cinnamon.

“Looks good. I need to change the bandage on your head.”

I closed my eyes and let him do his doctor thing. After my head, he
redressed my chest. When he was done, he said, “You're
incredibly lucky.”

“OK. I'll go with that.”

He chuckled. “Do you want to know the extent of your injuries
and what was done?”

“Not really. Just want to sleep.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “I'll check back with you
tomorrow. Are you up for visitors? There is quite the waiting list.”

“Yeah, that's fine. Hey doc? Who was the lady in here before?
She gave me a drink of water the first time I woke up.”

“Yes, she has been by your bed throughout. Again, you're a
lucky man.”

“Who was it?”

“Ashley Crest. She took care of the paperwork. History. Anytime
we had a question or needed approval, she was there. She is quite
extraordinary, Mr. Jenks.”

None of that made any sense to me, but I replied with, “Yes,
she is.”

Dr. Russell left the room. A minute later, Ashley entered.

“Hey, boss,” she greeted me. “Good to see you
awake.”

Ashley wore black slacks, black pumps, and a white button-down
blouse. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face in two braids
that ran around to the back of her head. She looked very
professional. And sexy. Can't forget that.

“Boss?”

“Yep. That's for later, though. I have a line of people out
there waiting to say hi to you. I would have never guessed you had so
many friends.”

“I would have never guessed you knew my medical history.”

Her blue eyes sparkled. “I'm really quite amazing. You'll
learn. I think Annette should be first. You OK with that?”

“Whatever you say.”

I HAD NO IDEA I had so many friends either. Annette was followed by
Casey and Fred. Then came my softball buddies. Kim was there. Alex
stopped in. Officer Bradford stopped by in full uniform. When she
leaned down to kiss my cheek she whispered, “We need to talk.
We might have a problem.” I nodded, but there wasn't anything
I could do about any problem we might have.

Over the next three days, my visitors came in a steady stream. Ashley
carefully monitored how long each visitor was granted. She watched me
constantly. At the first sign of fatigue, she would put a stop to the
visitations, call a nurse, and only when she was completely satisfied
that I was OK would the visitors be allowed to continue.

The Athens gang made a trip in mass. The firebug lingered after
everyone else had departed.

“Listen, Mail Dude, I got a problem.”

“What's that, little man?”

He retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. I
looked at it and began to laugh. “My mom said I had to give you
that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rat you out. The cops showed up
after we started lighting the fireworks off. She freaked.”

“They fined her a thousand dollars?”

“Yeah, crazy, huh? Anyways, she said you need to pay it or
she's going to press charges.”

I held the citation out to my left. Ashley took it without a word.
“I'll take care of it, little man. Sorry you got busted.”

“Nah, it's cool. Katelyn dug it, so she's got this crush on me
now. Totally worth it.”

“Sounds like it.”

“OK, Mail Dude, thanks. Late.” He walked out of the
room. I couldn't help but feel good.

“Are you kidding, Kelly? You need to explain that to me.”

“Just pay the fine. You still need to explain lots to me so
don't hold your breath until you're ready to tell me what's going on
with the whole 'boss' thing.”

Tristan didn't come, although Ashley said he sent his best. Nor did
Frankie. I wasn't prepared for the hurt this caused me, but I dealt
with it. Fred called her the day it happened. So she knew. No biggie.
Moving on.

My frontal lobe had started to lock down again. I could feel it. I
wasn't sure whether there was actual science behind this or simple
self-preservation. I had lapsed into a coma by the time I got to the
hospital. The coma lasted two weeks. The doctors didn't know why, but
I did. I was dealing with a lifetime of issues during those two
weeks. No way I could have survived if I had been conscious.

The bullet hit me with just the right angle and velocity. Rather than
bore straight in, it slid along my skull and exited out just behind
my right ear. The impact kicked something loose, and temporarily
undid the damage caused by the bat when I was a kid.

I was a week removed from the coma. There were only bursts of
emotion. Sometimes I felt things, like with the ticket. Sometimes I
didn't. I wasn't worried about it.

The two to the chest had done more damage, but they were too small
and lacked the power to do anything life-threatening. Lucky for me,
Mrs. Hicks had an old crappy gun with old crappy ammunition that
lacked the power to do anything too terrible to me. If that was what
you called luck.

I slept most of the time. Read the rest of the time. Ashley refused
to answer any of my questions, but she kept me well stocked in books.
I read a lot of Lee Child, John Sandford, and F. Paul Wilson. Wilson
appealed to me the most, but Sandford and Child were always reliable.
Reacher and Davenport were cool. No doubt about it.

I was released two weeks after I came out of the coma. Ashley rolled
my wheelchair out of the hospital and down the short ramp to the curb
where an Explorer was parked. A smile split my face as Kim got out
and walked around the front.

“Hey, Kelly,” she said. She kissed me on the cheek. “You
look good, all things considered.”

“Thanks.” I was bummed with the peck on the cheek. I had
very clear memories of our last kiss. She leaned over me and kissed
Ashley square on the mouth.

“Everything’s set,” Kim said.

“Great. Then let’s get Kelly to his new digs.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just shook my head in
confusion, frustration, and amazement.

They laughed. Ashley said, “Poor Kelly. Are you confused?”

“Did you guys meet by my bedside?”

More laughter. “Come on. Get in. We’ve got a surprise for
you. Then I’ll answer all your questions.”

I climbed into the backseat. I was bandage free, but my muscles were
weak and uncoordinated. I felt withered physically and totally
shocked mentally. I couldn’t wrap my head around the two women
in the front. What the hell?

Kim turned left on La Veta. Her right hand was in Ashley’s as
we merged onto the 22 and headed west. A mile later, Kim merged right
onto the 57 North. We were headed in the direction of Placentia. I
gave up trying to figure anything out. Angel Stadium slipped by on
the left. The Honda Center on the right.

Ten minutes later, Kim exited the freeway on Orangethorpe. Four miles
to the right lay the remains of The Triple Six. I thought about
Bradford’s visit.
We
might
have
a
problem
.
It had been a month since
the fire. Whatever problem she thought we might have hadn’t
ended with either of us in cuffs. Not a problem after all.

“You two heard from Bradford?”

Ashley said, “She’s fine. Patrolling the beat like a good
girl.”

Kim turned left on Orangethorpe. We passed beneath the 57. A car
dealership dominated two blocks on the right. She turned right on
Placentia Ave. We passed the English Muffin factory then turned right
on Crowther. Kim hung a left into an industrial strip. Long, low
buildings with auto repair shops, a party supply place, and a few
other random businesses. Each unit had a front door and a roll-up
door in the back. Kim pulled into an alley, hit a remote clipped to
the visor. I watched a door start to move. Kim waited, then pulled
into the bay.

She shut off the engine. They turned around to look at me. Ashley
said, “Welcome home, Kelly.”

HOME? I CLIMBED OUT OF the Explorer and looked around. The space was
actually two bays wide. Enough space for two rows of eight cars to
park side by side. My Cougar was parked to the far left. The Ranger
was next to it. My GSXR was there, too.

Kim said, “They did a great job. You’re going to love
it.”

Would I?

Ashley came and stood next to me. She took my hand. “Come on,
Kelly. It’s OK.”

I allowed myself to be led to a set of stairs. I climbed them slowly,
my muscles quivering from exhaustion halfway up. The stairs led to a
loft. Ten-foot ceiling. A California King bed. My desk and computer.
My TV, PS3, boogie boards, all my possessions. The far side of the
loft was a kitchen. One corner of the loft was a bathroom, a shower,
toilet, and sink. There were no walls, no doors, no windows. It was a
huge, open, one-room home. I loved it. It was perfect. It was
everything I had ever wanted.

I looked at them with a perfectly blank expression and said, “OK,
ladies. It’s time to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

WE SAT AT THE KITCHEN table. “This is pretty cool. Check it
out.” Ashley hit a switch on the wall. A low hum, like an A/C
unit filled the room. She reached into my pocket and pulled out my
cigarettes. I thought about quitting in the hospital. The nicotine
withdrawal had run its course while I was comatose. I liked it too
much. Ashley would wheel me out to the Smoking Section for a few
hours every day. She had taken really good care of me. I was starting
to understand why.