of vision and saw what she was talking about. Three of my knuckles were covered with blood and looked to have a couple of gashes.
“Nah, I’m all right,” I argued. I didn’t need her to baby me. I’d had worse working on a flat tire.
“It’s not a request, Detective.” She pointed to the bed parallel to the one Lainie sat upon. I nodded again, as she opened the door, and crossed the room to hop up on the bed.
“T-th-thank you.” A whisper of a voice came from the tiny, frail blonde.
“There is no reason to thank me. I’m just glad I passed by when I did.”
Claire knocked quickly on the door before opening and peering around the edge cautiously. “Detective, may I see you in the hall a minute?” I nodded my head and excused myself to join Claire.
Once I stepped through the door, Murphy was standing in the corridor.
“Captain, we got a positive ID on the fucker.”
She flipped her phone in my direction, a recent mug shot looking back at me. Frances Cashmere Greyson, twenty-seven, most recent arrest, two days ago for possession.
“So he bonded out and then lost his fucking mind.”
“Maybe the DA can get a no-bond order this time,” Murphy added as she pocketed the phone and made her way over to Kennedy.
“Don’t hold your breath,” was my flippant response as I turned back toward the trauma room door, which was now closed. I assumed Claire was performing an exam and decided to wait.
I leaned my back to the wall, crossed my boots at the ankle, and tucked my thumbs into my leather belt. Why I was waiting, I had no clue. I could wash my hands and smear some ointment over the cuts. It hadn’t been that long since I had a tetanus shot either.
Fifteen minutes later, the door opened and out walked a fatigued looking Claire. Her look of surprise at seeing me drew a smile that could wrinkle my bad assed exterior.
“Hey, I’m glad you’re still here, I need to look at those cuts.” She motioned to my knuckles with the bag of trash she held in her gloved hands. “Give me just a second to get rid of this.”
I settled my head against the wall and closed my eyes for the briefest of moments, when I heard a commotion coming from the room where Frances had been placed.
I pulled myself up and walked in that direction, passing Murphy as I entered the door. A uniformed officer was struggling to get Frances to settle back into the bed so the nurse could administer care.
Yelling at the top of his lungs about how she couldn’t make him get stitches.
“Ma’am, he’s right. If the douche bag doesn’t want your help, go ahead and let him go to county with his injuries.”
I instructed Murphy to start his discharge processing, no need to waste the taxpayer’s money helping this piece of shit. Of course, all of this was said in front of Frances, who began to scream about his civil rights and how the nurses all sucked around this hospital. Something in me snapped and I reached around the nurse, moving her a safe distance away from him. Jerking the tubes and wires from his arms, ignoring his bitch-like screams.
“You hate the nurses here so much? Let’s get you the fuck out of here.”
I grabbed his shoulder, hauling him to his feet and passed him over to the uniformed cop, who moved him out of the room. Frances obviously wasn’t that hurt if he was causing all this shit.
Claire stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, though not looking at him as he was pushed past her. “I hate this one the most. Look at her, thinkin’ she’s better than me.” His hands were behind his back and he was glaring in Claire’s direction.
I moved forward, shoving him against a far wall. “Watch your fucking mouth, before I cut out your tongue.” Shoving him out the door and into the hall, Murphy taking him to a waiting squad car.
Clair motioned for me to cross the hall, returning to the room Lainie was still in. Gathered several supplies, moving with grace and ease around the room we were formally in, and
“Nah, I’m all right,” I argued. I didn’t need her to baby me. I’d had worse working on a flat tire.
“It’s not a request, Detective.” She pointed to the bed parallel to the one Lainie sat upon. I nodded again, as she opened the door, and crossed the room to hop up on the bed.
“T-th-thank you.” A whisper of a voice came from the tiny, frail blonde.
“There is no reason to thank me. I’m just glad I passed by when I did.”
Claire knocked quickly on the door before opening and peering around the edge cautiously. “Detective, may I see you in the hall a minute?” I nodded my head and excused myself to join Claire.
Once I stepped through the door, Murphy was standing in the corridor.
“Captain, we got a positive ID on the fucker.”
She flipped her phone in my direction, a recent mug shot looking back at me. Frances Cashmere Greyson, twenty-seven, most recent arrest, two days ago for possession.
“So he bonded out and then lost his fucking mind.”
“Maybe the DA can get a no-bond order this time,” Murphy added as she pocketed the phone and made her way over to Kennedy.
“Don’t hold your breath,” was my flippant response as I turned back toward the trauma room door, which was now closed. I assumed Claire was performing an exam and decided to wait.
I leaned my back to the wall, crossed my boots at the ankle, and tucked my thumbs into my leather belt. Why I was waiting, I had no clue. I could wash my hands and smear some ointment over the cuts. It hadn’t been that long since I had a tetanus shot either.
Fifteen minutes later, the door opened and out walked a fatigued looking Claire. Her look of surprise at seeing me drew a smile that could wrinkle my bad assed exterior.
“Hey, I’m glad you’re still here, I need to look at those cuts.” She motioned to my knuckles with the bag of trash she held in her gloved hands. “Give me just a second to get rid of this.”
I settled my head against the wall and closed my eyes for the briefest of moments, when I heard a commotion coming from the room where Frances had been placed.
I pulled myself up and walked in that direction, passing Murphy as I entered the door. A uniformed officer was struggling to get Frances to settle back into the bed so the nurse could administer care.
Yelling at the top of his lungs about how she couldn’t make him get stitches.
“Ma’am, he’s right. If the douche bag doesn’t want your help, go ahead and let him go to county with his injuries.”
I instructed Murphy to start his discharge processing, no need to waste the taxpayer’s money helping this piece of shit. Of course, all of this was said in front of Frances, who began to scream about his civil rights and how the nurses all sucked around this hospital. Something in me snapped and I reached around the nurse, moving her a safe distance away from him. Jerking the tubes and wires from his arms, ignoring his bitch-like screams.
“You hate the nurses here so much? Let’s get you the fuck out of here.”
I grabbed his shoulder, hauling him to his feet and passed him over to the uniformed cop, who moved him out of the room. Frances obviously wasn’t that hurt if he was causing all this shit.
Claire stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, though not looking at him as he was pushed past her. “I hate this one the most. Look at her, thinkin’ she’s better than me.” His hands were behind his back and he was glaring in Claire’s direction.
I moved forward, shoving him against a far wall. “Watch your fucking mouth, before I cut out your tongue.” Shoving him out the door and into the hall, Murphy taking him to a waiting squad car.
Clair motioned for me to cross the hall, returning to the room Lainie was still in. Gathered several supplies, moving with grace and ease around the room we were formally in, and
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