{ LIVING THE POGUE LIFE }

{42}

He'd shot her. Rafe had fucking shot her.

She imagined she would wake up clueless, not knowing what's going on, but she woke up with a complete sense of clarity. Despite her injury, she felt fine. Maybe it was the pain relief they had given her. She didnt know.Her shoulder twinged  a little when she moved it, but nothing as bad as she had expected.

Images flashed though her head of the moments leading up to her being shot. She couldnt take her eyes off the gun. Rafe's face was full of rage as he screamed at her. The Sheriff's body lay on the floor and Brie ran forward to tackle the gun from his hands as John B dove to grab the Sheriff. Then that gunshot rung out again, and her chest exploded with pain, crumbling to the ground with Rafe grinning down at her with an evil smile.

"Miss Landon," a doctor smiled at her, snapping her from her thoughts, "You're a very lucky young lady."

"You have no idea how many times I've heard that," she replied numbly, looking down at her arm that was wrapped in a sling to stop her from putting strain on her shoulder.

The doctor chuckled. "Well, it's true. The bullet just avoided shattering your collarbone, and it was only lodged about two inches in. There was minimal damage."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god. Minimal damage meant less of a bill, and she couldnt exactly rely on Ward Cameron to pay her hospital bill this time.

"Thank you," she gave a weak smile, "So, am I free to go?"

"Not yet," the doctor grimaced, "The police are on their way. They want to talk to you about how you got shot."

Brie froze. Not the police. She still didnt have any idea what Ward had told the police. For all she knew, he could have said that she shot the Sheriff. Oh my god. The Sheriff. Did she make it? Brie really hoped so. That woman did a lot to keep her, John B and JJ out of trouble.

And the gold, she remembered. The gold was gone. The plane had left for the Bahamas as she lay on the floor of he woods bleeding out. She remembered watching it and feeling that pang of disappointment. It was over. Everything they had done, and everything that they had risked this past month, had all been for nothing.

"Okay," she managed.

The doctor gave a last smile and then left. She quickly found the sealed bag containing her clothes and yanked it open, changing into her shorts and blood-stained hoodie that was stiff from the dried blood. Her bullet wound ached, making her neck cramp up. She put the sling back over her head, feeling the relief of her arm being supported again. She wasted no time in ripping out her IV and pulling the wires off her. The machine blared out a loud beeping noise as the graph on the heart rate monitor fell flat. Shit.

She quickly stood and ran down a random corridor, no idea where she was going. The blood rushed to her head once she had made it a couple of yards, shoulder throbbing painfully, but she ignored it and kept running. Only then did she realise that she didnt have any shoes. Too late to turn back now.

She could still hear the faint drone of the machine by her bed as she made it further down the corridor. She turned back to see if anyone was following her when she suddenly collided with someone.

"Fuck!" She cursed as pain shot down her arm.

"Brie?"

"Pope," she breathed. God, was she happy to see him.

Pope pulled her into a hug. She let herself relax into him for a second before dragging him away down the corridor, just in case a doctor or nurse decided to chase after her.

"Thank god, you're okay," he said, "We were just trying to sneak in to see you, said something about not letting us in because were not family. Have you been discharged already? Wait, where are your shoes?"