Memphis Streets 4: Skeletons

Chapter 37- Brielle

I can't sleep. I can't eat. Hell. I can't even think straight.

All that runs through my head are all the different scenarios of how Dice can get hurt tonight on this secret gun run. Shit goes left out here on these streets every day of the week. The morgues and the prison cells are like fucking factories in this city. I jump up off the sofa and pace a hole in the carpet. Shouldn't they be back by now? I rush to the window and peek out. Where are they? The knots in my stomach tighten. I have a bad feeling about all of this.

Pulling from the window and fighting a new wave of anxiety, I go to the bedroom and retrieve my bottles of Xanax, Inderal, and Tofranil that were prescribed to me from the hospital. The bottles are more than halfway empty. What am I going to do when I run out? Tossing common sense out the window, I wash the pills down with a glass of Pinot Grigio. Five minutes later, I have an incredible buzz that smoothes my rattled nerves.

Thump! At the sound of a car door, the wineglass slips out of my hand and smashes onto the kitchen floor. Ignoring it, I race into the living room just as Dice opens the front door.

"Dice ! Oh thank God!" I launch into his arms, and my hands and legs wrap around him like a hungry octopus while I pepper his face with a thousand kisses.

"I'm so happy you're home. You have no idea how worried I was." I smother him with even more kisses before I hear his painful grunts.

"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" I spring back out of his arms and flip on the light switch.

"Let me see."

"Turn it off," he barks, the second the light hits him.

"Why? What's wrong? Something happened, didn't it? You can tell me. I can handle it."

"Bri!"

"I want to see for myself."

I pat him down and spin him around, looking for bullet holes or blood— something to confirm my worst fears. Dice hisses and then jumps away from my touch when my hand lands on his padded rib cage.

"You are hurt," I gasp. "Where? Do we need to get you to a doctor?"

"Calm down," He groans and chuckles at the same time. "I'm fine. I just need to sit down for a minute." Wincing and limping, he heads toward the sofa.

"Let me help you." I drape his arm around my shoulder. "Just lean on me." He wants to argue, but he relents and lets me help him.

Once on the sofa, he unstraps his bulletproof vest and pulls it off. "Are you going to tell me what happened or are you going to let me imagine the worst?"

"It was a setup. We were ambushed."

"What?" I drop next to him, my heart hammering.

"It's okay. It's all right. By some fuckin' miracle our asses got out of there without losing a man. But I swear, Lucifer's ass is slipping all over the place. It's been one fuck-up after another with her lately. Thank God Mason is back. Who knows what the hell would've happened under her so-called leadership."

Shocked, I'm caught off guard by his venom. "What?"

Dice snaps, defensively. "Nothing." I shrug.

"I just never heard you talk about Lucifer like that before. I thought y'all were cool."

"She's a'ight. I mean—shit. She's Mason's problem. I've never understood why he's always put so much trust in her."

"Because she scares the shit out of everybody, I'm guessing." My answer seems to irritate him.

"Can I get a beer or something?"