I get up and walk to the corridor outside the waiting room. I lean against the wall next to a hand sanitizer dispenser and press call. He picks up before the first ring finishes.
“Benji. Are you hurt? Tell me right now. I know something is wrong.”
“I’m...”
That’s as far as I get. One word. The sound catches in my throat and then it breaks open and I’m sobbing against the wall.
“Benji,” Dante says. “Talk to me. What happened.”
“I went to the bar.”
“The biker bar,” he says. “Okay. I remember. What happened at the bar?”
“There were these guys. Car show guys. Rednecks. Four of them. They followed me into the hallway by the bathrooms.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“Yeah. They attacked me. My ribs are bruised. My lip is split. They beat me up. They called me... they called me a faggot. And they kicked me.”
Dante blows out a long breath. “I’m going to kill them. I swear to God, Benji. I will find them and I will kill them. Give me fifteen minutes and I’m on my way. I can be there by morning. I knew something was wrong.”
“No, Dante, listen to me. That’s not all that happened. The owner came. He’s this enormous man. He stopped it. And then a cop came. A cop who... Dante, he was...”
“The cop did something to you?”
“No. No. The cop saved me. He came into the hallway and he was handling it. It was over. But one of them, the younger one, he had a gun. In his jacket pocket. He was drunk. And the cop saw him reaching for it and he...”
I press my forehead against the wall. The tile is cold and it’s the first thing I’ve felt in hours that isn’t pain or guilt.
“Benji! What? What happened with the gun?”
“The cop stepped in front of me. He saw the gun and he moved in front of me and it went off. The gun went off inside the guy’s pocket and the cop, his name is Mickey, he fell on top of me. He got shot. It’s bad, Dante. He’s in surgery right now. I’m at the hospital. They made me put on hospital scrubs because the blood was everywhere. Dante, there was so much blood. He’s in surgery and nobody will tell me anything. I’m a nobody to him. I’m just the guy he stepped in front of. I’m fucking nobody and they won’t tell me anything.”
I start sobbing again and Dante just listens.
He’s silent. His breathing comes through the phone. The TV in his apartment, the baseball game still playing, the soundof a normal night in Miami while mine burns to the ground in the fucking Redneck Riviera.
“Benji,” he says. “Is the cop still alive?”
“I don’t know for sure. I think so. He was alive when they put him in the ambulance. He was alive when they wheeled him through the doors and took him into surgery. I don’t know anything else.”
“Okay. Listen to me, Benji. Come home. You need to come home or go back to your place. Right now. I’m coming up to get you. Don’t stay there.”
“I can’t leave.”
“Yes, you can. Get in an Uber. Go to your rental. Pack your bag. Take an Uber to the airport. Leave your car and come home. I’ll be at arrivals. We’ll go back to get your car later.”
“Dante, I can’t leave now. He’s in surgery. What if he doesn’t make it? Before they put him into the ambulance, he said he couldn’t feel his legs.”
“Benji, you don’t know this man. You’re not responsible for...”
“He took the bullet for me.” My voice cracks. “He realized there might be a gun and he didn’t duck. He intentionally moved in front of me. Nobody has ever...” I can’t finish. “I can’t leave until I know he’s okay. I can’t. Don’t ask me to do that. I won’t.”
“Okay,” he says gently. “I understand. You need to stay. But you text me every hour. Every hour, Benji. And when you know something, I’m the first call you make. I’m right here and I can do anything you need me to.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.”
“And Benji?”
