A beat of silence. "Alright. What do you need to know?"
I consider my words carefully. I don't want to out Brooklyn to Cruz's second in command. I have no doubt that he'd run to my brother the first chance he got to blab.
"Say, hypothetically, a buddy of mine was pretty badly beaten. How would one go about diagnosing internal bleeding?"
He's the only one I can think to ask. I don't have the Spade's doctor on speed dial. Ryker is an EMT, so he's the next best thing. At the very least, he can help me assess just how worried I should be.
Ryker pauses and I can practically see the gears working in his head, even from here. He knows something is up, but how much he can parse out from the statement I can't tell.
"Well I'd say your buddy needs to get his ass to an E.R."
I can tell by the way he stresses the words that he believes I've gotten my ass in some deep shit. I won't dissuade him of the notion. He's not wrong.
"Say that's not possible. Say that my buddy is pretty sure there's going to be an ambush waiting for him if he tries that."
"Doesn't change the fact that he needs a doctor."
"Just tell me what I'm supposed to be looking for, Ryker. I don't know how badly my buddy was hurt."
"There should be at least one or more signs. Abdominal pain, shortness of breath, chest pains, dizziness, a lot of bruising on the sides of the abdomen. Nausea, vomiting blood. Bright red or dark stuff the consistency of coffee grounds are really bad signs. Bleeding from any other area. Nose, ears, or mouth."
Dread makes my stomach pitch. Brooklyn had quite a bit of bruising. How could I tell what was life-threatening and what wasn't?
"What color is the bruising? Is it different from regular bruises?"
"It's most likely red-purple and extends across a large portion of skin."
Ryker seems to struggle for words. His voice has more concern than I've ever heard from the big man in well...ever.
"If you're in trouble, just come home, Kase. Cruz can't stay pissed if you're hurt. Or at least tell me where you are and I can-"
Does he know Cruz at all? Of course the bastard can stay pissed at me. He'd be pissed if I got myself into an early grave becausehewasn't the one who put me there.
"I've got things under control," I say, cutting him off mid-plea. "Thanks for the information, Ryker."
"Kase-"
I hang up, and stuff the phone into my pocket. I scan the parking lot again, but there's no one there. Paranoia prickles at the base of my skull. We're still too close. Once I've made sure Brooklyn isn't bleeding into her abdomen we'll go. We can't count on safety here.
The lobby of the hotel is done up in a red so old it's fading to pink in areas. A woebegone pair of armchairs sit near a defunct fireplace. The breakfast bar is nothing but a long counter running across the wall, topped with a few boxes of cereal.
The bored receptionist directs me to room 107 and flicks a key card at me lazily. It slides across the surface of the help desk and I catch it before it can clatter to the ground. With one last scornful look at her, I disappear down the hallway. The lighting is dim and has an orange cast to it. Between the floor, the lights, and the impending sense of doom it feels like I've stepped into the first ring of hell.
The light on the door flicks green when I insert the card and I push inside. Brooklyn is sprawled lazily on the mattress, hand resting lightly on her stomach as she stares at the ceiling. She rolls onto her side as I enter, denim eyes lifting to meet mine.
"What now?"
"Now you take your clothes off."
Brooklyn's eyebrows lift and a wicked smile tugs at the corners of those perfect bubble gum lips. "Forceful. I like it."
My hands clench into fists at my sides, so I don't give in to the urge to snatch her up from the bed and show her just how hard she makes me. That little smile does more for me than seeing most women naked. It's full of promise and a return to the past that I miss. But I can't go there with her. One way or another, this will eventually come to an end. I've spent years trying to get the taste of her from my mouth. If I take another hit, I'm never going to quit. An addiction to Brooklyn will kill me.
"I need to check for signs of internal bleeding," I say, gratified when the raging desire I feel doesn't show in my tone. If anything I sound bored. "Take off your shirt and let me see your injuries."
The smile drops off Brooklyn's face. "Oh."
Don't kiss her, don't kiss her, don't...
