Wanted For Pleasure

Chapter Seventy-seven: something in my heart

"The paradox of vengefulness is that it makes men dependent upon those who have harmed them, believing that their release from pain will come only when their tormentors suffer."

Morgan Ann Bennett

I never saw anyone get shot before. I didn't think Malcolm would do such a thing, then again, this wasn't out of his wheelhouse, either.

Chris told me to trust him and I did. I had my doubts, I'll be honest, if he hadn't acted a few minutes sooner I would have walked down that aisle. Gladly, no one said "I do." The downside, though, Carter's in the hospital because of me.

The silence in the waiting room was deafening. We'd seen hard times like this too often in the past few months. When will it end?

It had been a couple of hours already, still no word from Carter.
The police, though, have been questioning us. It was all the same shit. Who saw what happened? What would make the shooter [Malcolm] do such a thing? Are we sure he meant to shoot him? Like, what the fuck?
And anyway, Chris told me not to answer the cops, he said it's best we act clueless before possibly incriminating ourselves being as though the local law enforcement is on Malcolm's payroll.

Mary's calm demeanor surprised us all. While that's usually her personality— stable— I thought she'd be the most distraught after her husband got shot. No. She sat peacefully in the chair and just waited to hear any updates on him.

By four o'clock, she started getting anxious. Her legs took turns trembling and she patted her thighs to pass time.

Each and every nurse that passed would just assure Mary she'll know something "soon." That word was starting to lose it's effect.

I kept offering Mrs.Vaughn something to eat or drink, coffee, but she wasn't interested.

When I asked if she wanted to go for a walk, talk about things, or clear her head, she insisted she wasn't moving a muscle until the doctor came and talked to her about her husband.

It was traumatic, honestly - seeing Carter getting shot. The worst part, Malcolm wasn't aiming for his old friend, he was aiming for me.

What if Carter didn't push me out of the way? What if he had moved a second too late? What if Malcolm had better aim and reaction time?

Carter was only shot in the arm, but none of us took that lightly. Obviously.

Chris was no where to be found. He and JB wandered off a while ago after the nurse threatened to kick Chris out. He had a little spell with the policeman. In fact, it was the same officer — Mike Hanks— who pulled us over before and I had to pay him to leave us alone. He worked for Malcolm, of course, so he pressed Chris about his involvement in this just because he could. Evil fuck. Pig.

Basically, Chris was sitting beside me. He was jittery like his mother but this was right after we got Carter into the ER. Chris demanded answers, he wanted to know where Malcolm was but more importantly, if his father was going to be okay as we didn't yet know the severity of the wound. Really, when that bullet flew at Carter he fell to the ground and started wailing, holding his limb as if it were going to fall off. And honestly, the way he screamed and rolled around in pain, I thought his arm was going to fall off, too.
So Chris, JB, Jas, Cleo, Mary, and I all helped Carter into Chris's Durango and piled in for a ninety-miles-per hour ride to the nearest hospital. Sherry and Alvin followed with Dale and his date, Teddy's ex. Small world, but I didn't bring that up yet.

Carter was admitted and immediately treated but of course we all had to begin the world's longest waiting game.

We all buzzed, debriefing the events that led us here. JB insisted he would've taken that bullet. Next, Sherry and Alvin agreed that they would have, as well. I appreciated them, but I wish no one would have gotten in the way. It had my name on it and honestly, if that was my fate — going to reunite with Callie and Quinn— part of me would've been okay with that.