Rid of Me: A Love Story with a Body Count

Chapter 27

The bright lights and array of medical terms being tossed around the build like a baseball at a family picnic. Waiting for hours to hear some news, but it was clear my friend wasn't high on their priority list. Was it a stroke? Heart attack? Or did her sweet dirty mind heart just gave out? Shit! Someone needs to tell me something or there will be bodies to examine. My fingers burned into the wooden arms of the chair and my legs shook faster than any of my vibrators.

"Damn, girl," Melissa said. "If I sit on your knees, I bet I would come faster than a virgin on prom night." She took hold of my hand and squeezed. "You have to relax. She is a tough old bird. She isn't going to let shit stop her.

My legs stopped shaking. "She can't die, Melissa," I commented. "Beside you, she is the most constant thing in my life."

"Well, you do have that whole killing thing," Melissa joked.

"Details, details," I replied back. "I mean people."

"Pitch," Melissa explained. "I always have your back." She stood up, her short overcoat covered most of her body, but not her sexy legs and her four inched heels made them popped. "Can I get you anything?" she asked.

I smiled as my eyes scanned up and down her legs. No one knew she was only wearing nothing but a g-string under that overcoat. She came here right between her routine. It wasn't that long ago when I asked her to help me with her father, her answer was 'busy.' Now, she always has time for me. No matter what she was doing, she has my back. I should take her to a broom closet, get under her overcoat and thank my friend properly. "I'm good," I answered.

"I'm going to find some coffee." She turned walked in the direction of the food court. The loud clicking of her heels echoed in the hall, and the shake of her hips couldn't be hidden in her overcoat as I saw a couple of people taking notice of my girlfriend. Holy shit! I just called her my girlfriend. My real girlfriend, not best friends or friends with benefits. Girlfriend, oh fuck!

I walked to the nurse station, I knew they were tired of me asking questions and I was tired of them not telling me anything. "Have you heard any news?"

"Ms. Armstrong,"the nurse answered. "When we hear anything about your grandmother, we will let you know."

Okay, another quick lie. They wouldn't tell me anything if I wasn't a family member. I slammed both hands on the desk. "Who do I have to go down on to get some fucking answers?"

"Ms. Armstrong," the nurse as she rose from her seat. "I need you to calm down." Her voice was soothing and soft like a summer breeze coming off the ocean. "The person you need to go down on is Dr. Joyce Becker." But her wit was as sharp as my knife that I dragged across many of my victim's throats.

"That was very unprofessional," I said as I looked at her name tag. "Amy." I tried to strike some fear in her, but it failed because her comment did put a huge smile on my face. My lips hold off my laughter. "But I really like your style."

"Ms. Armstrong?" A female voice called out behind me. I turned around and saw this middle-aged woman with her blondish grey hair in a tight bun and a white lab coat. "You can see your grandma now."

She escorted me into the ER, the sounds of beeping machines, people barking orders and nurses' shoes squeaking on the floor was the soundtrack of my trip to the hospital. We passed several curtains covered beds until we arrived at my destination. She called out Ms. Tranhill's names and pulled the curtain backed.

"You have a visitor," Dr. Becker informed her elderly guest.

I walked out from behind the doctor. "Hey, Grandma." My eyes widened to signal her to play along with my deception.