The Deal Maker (Book I)

Chapter Three - Home

                                                                           Chapter Three

                                                                                  Home

I’m not sure how long I had been lying on the ground, bleeding to death. When I woke up it was nighttime—at least it felt like it—and the blood around me was almost dried. How I survived that, I’ll never know. My tolerance for pain was definitely due to drugs, alcohol, and getting used to it over the years. So when I felt as if my bones were shattered, I didn’t scream. I did say a few dozen cuss words. I mean, come on, I nearly died. As I got to my feet I was aware of my loss of vision in my left eyes. I was so terrified that I might have lost my eye, I wouldn’t even feel if it was still there. My face stung in every single place.

This place wasn’t safe, at least not now. They will be back, probably soon. I limped down a few levels in the car garage and managed to miraculously make it to a coffee shop next door. It was closed until six in the morning. I didn’t have a clue what time it was because my watch was in the car. Judging by the brightening sky, I should have to wait long. My body sort of just flopped beside the door as I waited for someone to open up and let me use a phone. I must have blacked out or spaced out because the next thing I knew there was a woman standing over me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“Oh my God, are you okay? I’ll call 911,” she told me frantically as she reached for her cell phone.

I forced my dry mouth to form words “N-no, please don’t. Can I borrow your phone? I need to call a friend,” I croaked, barely able to speak.

She paused, as if unsure whether to let this mangled girl use her expensive phone. She handed it to me after a moment and stood there stiffly as I dialed a number I rarely ever used.

“Hello?” a husky voice grunted as if they were sleeping.

“D-David?” I wasn’t sure if it was him because the voice sounded so hoarse.

“This is him. Who is this?”

My voice sounded so off that he probably thought I was a man. “Joanna.”

There was a pause and a few thumps, as if he were getting out of bed or messing with his cabinets. “Joanna? Are you okay?”

Hot tears went down my right cheek, startling me because I felt nothing in my left eye. I had to ignore it and get to the point. “N-No. I need your help.”

“Of course! What’s wrong?” His voice held alarm and fear as he spoke, and I even heard more thumping around.

“Can you pick me up? I’m downtown about two miles from the facility we meet at. I’m on Washington, near a coffee shop.”

“On my way.”

The phone call ended and I quickly handed the eager woman her phone. “Thanks.” I closed my eyes in exhaustion.

“Is your ride coming? Do you need anything?” She looked so lost and confused that she almost looked like she was in need of something.

“Can I use your bathroom?” It was an odd request, but I had to see what was wrong with my eye.

She unlocked her coffee shop and helped me through the door while flipping on lights. I stumbled the entire way to the bathroom. Once inside, I closed and locked the door behind me and built up enough courage to look in the mirror. A weird sound escaped my throat when I saw my face. My left eye wasn’t missing, it was just so swollen shut that I couldn’t see even light through it. There was a giant gash on my forehead. Blood was in my hair, skin, even my jeans looked splattered. My neck wasn’t as gruesome as I had thought, though it as still nasty. I grabbed a few paper towels and wet them before I began to wipe away the blood.