Broken Bells • Bishop Losa

Chapter 6: At The Edge

Warning: Mentions of drug abuse

It seemed to Annabelle that her concussion was going to be a bigger issue than her doctor had made it seem. She was told to expect headaches and lots of sleep while avoiding watching too much television and slowing train her eyes to be able to focus on reading again in the upcoming weeks but she had not been warned that the headaches that would manifest as splitting pain that she felt even while asleep, or that she may wake from that sleep in a terrifyingly overwhelming amount of pain that usually ended with her bawling her eyes out or sitting on the bathroom floor as she emptied her stomach contents into the toilet. Another unexpected issue she was facing was how hopeless of a circle her brain injury placed her in- any motion she felt made her dizzy and tired which then would involve a nap and waking in an unpleasant amount of pain only to repeat over and over again.

Annabelle found herself sitting on the couch, her legs crossed under her body and her arms resting on her knees. She looked as though she had not showered in days but she had, the amount of times her fingers tugged her curly locks on her scalp had given it a slightly greasy sheen and formed tiny knots that grew larger by the hour. On the coffee table in front of her sat two objects- a picture frame and the container that held her prescribed pain medication. Her dazed eyes watered as they flickered back and forth between the two items while she tried to fight her indecision.

Rosa had been there that morning to check in before she had to leave for work, Annabelle had been sitting in the kitchen then, her head resting in her hands as her elbows supported her weight against the kitchen counter. Rosa knew the woman was in pain and had urged her to visit a doctor if her medication was not providing her even the slightest bit of relief, Rosa also knew just how stubborn the woman could be which is why she had found herself sitting in the parking lot outside Navarro's five minutes before she had to start her shift.

"Hey Hank, it's Rosa. I don't mean to be a bother but I think Bishop should know that Annabelle is not doing so great, she's been having a hard time the last couple of days... I would have called him but I don't have his number. Thanks for passing off the message for me."

Annabelle's head swiveled toward the door, she thought she had heard a knock but she was too zoned out to be sure. She sat in silence for a moment before the heavy knock sounded once more. She jumped to her feet and stumbled toward the door, pulling the heavy wooden door open to reveal the tattooed, bald Mayan standing on her porch.

"Creeper?" She leaned her heavy head against the door frame. "I figured it might be Tig, finally coming to give me a piece of his mind. What brings you here?"

He shrugged, following her as she disappeared toward the kitchen. "Tig left not long after your visit, said it would be better for you to not have him around. Bishop had his hands full with club business so he sent me to check on you."

"Grunt work? Isn't that what prospects are for?" She questioned, opening the refrigerator door to find a beverage.

He nodded, settling himself on one of the chairs that had been tucked underneath the kitchen island. "We don't have a prospect, the only ones exempt from grunt work right now are Bish, Taza and Hank."

Annabelle settled on a cold glass of lemonade, sliding a tall glass across the counter toward the Mayan.

"You can tell Bishop that this grunt work is fine."

"You look like shit."

Annabelle nearly spit her mouthful of lemonade as she had not expected such a bold statement from the biker, she had not taken Creeper to be the brutally honest or serious type of guy.

"You must be a hit with the ladies."

The kitchen was silent as both occupants focused on the condensation running down the sides of their glasses. Annabelle used her finger to draw faces in order to avoid the short, concerned glances she was receiving from Creeper.