Threatened

Chapter 7: The Observation

"So you're the superstar who got himself a death threat from a gang. Nice to finally meet you," Zach smirks. I can see Lee's jaw clench and his huge eyebrows furrow. Oh God.

"I'm sorry, I've never heard of you. I don't often socialize with people of your caliber," Lee grins. Zach stands from his chair violently, but I grab his wrist and telepathically tell him to calm down. He understands my thoughts and eases slowly back into the chair.

The two continue glaring silently at each other for five minutes before I finally break the thick air. "Have there been any other threats?"

"No. We found the note you were given in Ralph Lauren and it's being analyzed as we speak. The shooter is on the ME's table too. We'll have the ballistics reports by tomorrow morning. I'll be sure you get a copy," Zach announces, obviously proud of his intel. Lee groans and rolls his eyes.

"We knew most of that already," he sighs.

"You don't need to send me any of the reports, Zach. I no longer work for the LAPD."

"What?! Why the hell not?" Zach screams, loud enough for a nurse to poke her head in and ask if everything is alright. Zach waves her away and continues screeching about my job.

"What did you do to get fired? Was it this lunatic's fault?! I swear I'm gonna-" he yells as he starts striding around the bed to punch Lee, who is standing with his hands up, ready to fight.

"Zach!" I scream.

"What?!"

"Shut up! You are worse than a football coach on a bad call. Calm down." With a glare that could kill directed at Lee, Zach rights his tipped chair and perches on the edge of it.

"Mr. Pace did not get me fired. It was my own mistakes that cost me the badge. Stop blaming him when you should be thanking him for keeping me alive. I would have pursued the shooter until I lost every drop of blood in me. Lee kept me in the dressing room and applied pressure to stop the bleeding."

Zach looks down at his feet for a moment, then nods his head slightly. Lee relaxes a fraction and rests his head on his hand. Nuclear catastrophe avoided for the night.

After another hour of gossip, Zach leaves, but promises to be back first thing in the morning.

"Why does that guy hate me?" Lee laughs. He doesn't seem offended, just curious.

"Zach has always been protective. We've been partners since before I got promoted. Sometimes I think he likes me, then I think that he's just being a good partner. I've never been much good at reading people's emotions toward me, but I can always tell how people feel towards other people. It's a weird superpower," I explain. Lee smirks and pulls out the bag he got from the gift shop.

"The gift shop didn't have pants or pillows, so I asked a nurse and she gave me scrub pants and an extra pillow. But I went to the gift shop anyway for something else," Lee explains.

"What is still in there?" I laugh. Then he pulls out a small speaker.

"I thought you might want to listen to music while you're here. I'm pretty sure you weren't carrying one while we were shopping," he smiles.

"Lee, I don't know what to say," I gasp. How could he know that all I wanted to do was listen to music? How could he know?

"It's nothing really, you've been checking your phone every three minutes and almost every time you open your music app first. I just thought you'd like to listen to it. But now that I think about it, you could always just play it from your phone speakers," he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Lee, it's sweet that you thought of me like that. What do you want to listen to first?"

Lee's face brightens. "What do you have?"

"Almost everything. What's your favorite song?"

"Oh, there's so many," he moans. "Do you have Crazy Train?"

Who doesn't? I hit Crazy Train and let the playlist run. Lee starts dancing in his chair to the intro and I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looks. His hair is a mess, his shirt is in knots, and he does not care. He is listening to the music, not giving a damn what he looks like. Finally, someone not obsessed with their appearance.

We both dance for the duration of the song and when it ends, I pick the next one: Joan Jett's Bad Reputation. Lee grins at me and starts dancing again, this time getting out of the chair to do so.

It's another half hour of music before the nurse comes in and tells us to turn it way down or off. Lee ducks into the bathroom to change while I turn the music to its lowest volume. I also change it to play just soundtracks, nothing with lyrics other than choir choruses. The first one is from The Hobbit. I am scrambling to skip ahead when Lee steps out of the bathroom shirtless. He starts bobbing his head to the music, so I stop skipping ahead.

"I love listening to this soundtrack. Howard Shore is amazing. The music just takes you to Middle-earth" he says, sitting down in the chair. The scrubs are billowy and look really comfortable compared to this paper dress. I'm trying really hard not to stare at his perfect chest.

"Good night, Anna," Lee yawns, curling up in the chair and pulling a blanket over his legs.

"Good night," I whisper back. I flip the light switch and everything turns black except for the glowing heart monitor.

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