“This is good,” I assured him.“Thank you.I need a chair, though.I have a tendency to hit the ground when I do this.”
“Of course.”He went to the desk in the corner and rolled the one chair in the room to the side of the gurney.
“Great.”I gestured to the sheet.“Could you uncover a small portion of the remains for me?I need to touch something.”
He went to the gurney and pushed back a corner of the sheet, revealing a bone.
I blew out a breath and pulled my pearl from beneath my shirt.I glanced around at everyone again.Hernández and Osso had apparently told Kaknu to move to the farthest wall.They all watched from over there.Dr.Ortiz stood on the opposite side of the gurney, clearly excited to have a front row seat.
“I’m sorry,” I began.“I know this is your workspace, but it’s better for me if people aren’t too close while I do this.Sometimes, I pick up random thoughts or memories from anyone standing too near.”
The doctor looked behind him, realized the others were leaning against a wall, and chose to back up until he was leaning against a much closer wall, which was probably far enough away.
“Okay?”Declan asked and I nodded.He sat in the chair and pulled me onto his lap, dropping the backpack at our feet.Declan knew to hold me without touching my skin and messing with my magic.He’d make sure I didn’t end up on the floor.
I reached out a finger and touched the bone.
TWENTY-FOUR
A Charmed Life
“Iknow what you did!”The speaker’s face is sallow and oily.His hair is to his shoulders and looks as though it’s in desperate need of a wash.He wears a black hoodie and too-baggy jeans.“I saw it.”
The room they’re standing in is small and crowded.There’s a desk, but just barely.It’s metal with a big, old-fashioned computer monitor.The tower stands beside it, covered in sticky notes, with a stack of folders balancing on top.To the right is a keyboard and mouse under what appears to be a dozen scattered yellow triplicate sheets.Two metal trays hold stacks of yet more file folders, taking up what’s left of the desk space.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.”A young man with a good haircut, wearing a button-down shirt, glances around the storage-closet-made-office.“This area is off-limits to residents.”
A dirty window is high on the wall.Apparently, this is a below-ground room.The weak, flickering light illuminating the storage office seems to be coming from a distant streetlight.A bookshelf is on one wall, only the top shelf of which carries books.The rest is filled with shoddy-looking binders, stacks of file folders, a first aid kit, a couple of dusty boxes of off-brand fruit cups, and industrial-size buckets and bottles of cleansers and sanitizers.
“She’s a nice lady,” the unkempt man says.He has the look of a long-term drug user, which makes aging him difficult.“She wants to see her daughter.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.Have you started using again?”the young man asks with a smirk.Mike.This is Mike.The voice is the same from the summer camp.“Hallucinations are common with drug use.”
“Fuck you, man!I’m clean and you know it.”He stuffs his hands in his hoodie pocket.The move stretches the fabric, emphasizing his too-narrow shoulders.“I saw her with you.She needs a favor.She’s a nice lady and she hasn’t been around in days.She only wants her little girl back.All you had to do was make a phone call or sign some shit.”
Mike points at the door.“I told you.You can’t be here.And it sounds like you didn’t see anything.I suggest you go back upstairs if you’d like to keep your bed here.”
He doesn’t move, though.“I know she came down here to talk to you, and she never came back up.Maybe I should tell the director that.”
Mike turns his back on…Aaron, dismissing him, but his hands are fisted by his sides.Who the hell is this piece of shit to question him?He turns back with a baseball suspended in a clear box in his hand, one he snatches from the shelf in front of him.
“She’s a nice lady.”Aaron sneers.“You’ve got all these people fooled with your golden boy bullshit.”He shakes his head, looking toward the door.“I know your type.I’ve met guys like you who sell shit to little kids ’cuz they didn’t care if they overdose.They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”
“Do you honestly think,” Mike begins, his voice darker than the bright, helpful tone he usually uses, “that anyone is going to give two shits what a junkie with tracks up his arms, between his toes, and in his groin says.You had your chance to leave.Too bad you didn’t notice there are no cameras down here.”
Aaron’s eyes go wide as he tries to make it to the door.Scrambling, he trips on a barrel of delousing chemicals.Mike is on him in a flash, the heavy, sharp-edged souvenir coming down hard on Aaron’s head.Over and over, he pummels the unconscious man until only bloody pulp remains where once there was an earnest face struggling with sobriety.
“Arwyn!”
I blinked my eyes open to water running down my face.I was on the floor, my head in Declan’s lap.“What the hell?”
“Oh, my,” Dr.Ortiz said, kneeling on my other side.“Let me help you.”
“She’s fine,” Osso said, moving closer to the gurney with Hernández and Kaknu.
“She’s not fine,” Declan growled.“You expect too much of her.”
I lifted my hand to my sore cheek.“Who punched me?”
