Puppy Love

Chapter 13

Owen.

I can tell that she's fighting back tears as she shines her pen light in Ryan's eyes.

"Owen, what did you do?" she asks me again as she proceeds to inject more meds into his IV. Her voice is so stoic and cold; it sends chills down my spine.

"I..." I mutter, still tipsy from drinking only an hour ago, "I found him like this."

"You really expect me to believe that?" she snaps at me, coming over to my side of the bed. Looking me directly in my eyes, she asks, "What happened?"

9:15pm.

I enter the bar and, as soon as I sit at the stool, I order three shots of whiskey.

"Bad outcome?" Joe asks me as he sets three shot glasses in front me.

"No," I mutter, resting my arms on the bar table before laying my chin on my hands. I look like a sad puppy, and I'm certain he can tell why.

Joe smirks, eyeing my demeanour. "Is this about a girl?" I don't bother lying.

"Yeah." I look up at him and sigh as he pours the whiskey into the glasses. "Is it that obvious?"

"That best friend of yours?" he further enquires, sliding over one of the shot glasses to me, "The feisty Shepherd?"

I swallow the drink in one gulp, my face twisting at the taste and the way in burns my chest. "I've come to realise it's rare that you'll ever have a best friend of the opposite sex, and not end up falling in love with them."

"Maybe you should ask Meredith and Alex for pointers," he teases me, sliding over another shot.

I sigh and smirk, swallowing the brown liquid before saying, "Maybe." One hour, and five more shots, later, I've turned from sad Owen to angry, drunk Owen.

"The guy is a low life," I vent to Joe, slamming the shot glass down on the table, "He never deserved to be with her. He abused her medical power and is probably gonna get her license taken away!" I sloppily rest my head on the table, mumbling, "I knew he was no good."

"It sounds more like you were jealous of him," Joe offered.

"Me?" I exclaim, sitting up again, "As if." I wave my shot glass in the air, signalling for another shot, but Joe ignores me. Instead he takes the glass away from me.

"Go home, Hunt," he advises me, "Before I take away your medical license."

"If I leave here, I'm going to kill Ryan," I say.

Challenging my bluff, he replies, "Do what you want, but I'm not serving you any more alcohol. You've had enough." Huffing, I get up and stumble out of the bar and into the chilly night. The longer I walk, the smarter my idea to throttle Ryan sounds. Soon, I find myself walking towards the diner where he works, thinking up a plan to invite him outside where I can pummel his stupid face.

"Hi, what can I get you?" the waitress at the cash register asks me, putting on a fake smile.

"Is the cook here?" I ask, specifying, "Ryan, I mean."

"Oh, he stepped out back about thirty minutes ago," she tells me, "Guy always disappears for a long time, with no reason."

"Okay," I say, thinking that I came at just the right time. I step outside and walk to the alley parallel to the diner. At first, I see no sign of anyone being there, but then, as I walk further into the alleyway, I stumble over something. Looking down, I see a guy, slumped against the garbage can.